{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_58812/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_58812","id":"gutenberg_58812","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/58812","summary":null,"tags":["Baker, Francis A. (Francis Aloysius), 1820-1865","Category: Biographies","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Catholic Church -- Sermons","Sermons, American -- 19th century"],"text":"Produced by Don Kostuch\n\n\n\n\n\n  [Transcriber's Notes: This production was derived from\n  https://archive.org/details/lifeofrevfrancis00hewi/page/n9]\n\n{1}\n\n  Sermons Of The\n\n  Rev. Francis A. Baker,\n\n\n  Priest Of The Congregation Of St. Paul.\n\n  With A Memoir Of His Life\n\n\n  BY\n\n  Rev. A. F. Hewit.\n\n\n  Fourth Edition.\n\n\n  New York:\n  Lawrence Kehoe, 145 Nassau Street.\n  1867.\n\n{2}\n\n  Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1865\n\n  By A. F. Hewit,\n  In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United\n  States for the Southern District of New York.\n\n\n{3}\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n------\n\nIn offering the Memoir and Sermons of this volume to the friends\nof F. Baker, and to the public, propriety requires of me a few\nwords of explanation. The number of those who have been more or\nless interested in the events touched upon in the sketch of his\nlife and labors is very great, and composed of many different\nclasses of persons in various places, and of more than one\nreligious communion. I cannot suppose that all of them will read\nthese pages, but it is likely that many will; and therefore a\nword is due to those who are more particularly interested, as\nwell as to the general class of readers. I have to ask the\nindulgence of all my readers for having interwoven so much of my\nown history and my own reflections on the topics and events of\nthe period included within the limits of the narrative. They have\nwoven themselves in spontaneously, without any intention on my\npart, and on account of the close connexion between myself and\nthe one whose career I have been describing; and I have been\nunable to unravel them from the texture of the narrative without\nbreaking its threads.\n\n{4}\n\nI have simply transferred to paper that picture of the past, long\nforgotten amid the occupations of an active life, which came up\nagain, unbidden and with great vividness, before the eye of\nmemory, during the hours while the remains of my brother and\ndearest friend lay robed in violet, waiting for the last solemn\nrites of the requiem to be fulfilled. If I have succeeded, I\ncannot but think that the picture will have something of the same\ninterest for others that it has for myself. Those who knew and\nloved the original, will, I hope, prize it for his sake; and\ntheir own recollections will diffuse the coloring and animation\nof life over that which in itself is but a pale and indistinct\nsketch. For their sakes chiefly I have prepared it, so far as the\nmere personal motive of perpetuating the memory of a revered and\nbeloved individual is concerned. But I have had a higher motive\nas my chief reason for undertaking the task: a desire to promote\nthe glory of God, by preserving and extending the memory of the\ngraces and virtues with which He adorned one of His most faithful\nchildren. I have wished to place before the world the example of\none of the most signal conversions to the Catholic faith which\nhas taken place in our country, as a lesson to all to imitate the\npure and disinterested devotion to truth and conscience which it\npresents to them.\n\nLet me not be misunderstood. I do not present the example of his\nconversion, or that of the great number of persons of similar\ncharacter who have embraced the Catholic religion, as a proof\nsufficient by itself of the truth of that religion.\n{5}\nI propose it as a specimen of many instances in which the power\nof the Catholic religion to draw intelligent minds and upright\nhearts to itself, and to inspire them with a pure and noble\nspirit of self-sacrifice in the cause of God and humanity, is\nexhibited. This is surely a sufficient motive for examining\ncarefully the reasons and evidences on which their submission to\nthe Church was grounded; and an incentive to seek for the truth,\nwith an equally sincere intention to embrace it, at whatever cost\nor struggle it may demand.\n\nIt may appear to the casual reader that I have drawn in this\nnarrative an ideal portrait which exaggerates the reality. I do\nnot think I have done so; and I believe the most competent judges\nwill attest my strict fidelity to the truth of nature. If I have\nrepresented my subject as a most perfect and beautiful character,\nthe model of a man, a Christian, and a priest of God, I have not\nexceeded the sober judgment of the most impartial witnesses. A\nProtestant Episcopal clergyman, of remarkable honesty and\ngenerosity of nature, said of him to a Catholic friend: \"You have\none perfect man among your converts.\" Another, a Catholic\nclergyman, whose coolness of judgment and reticence of praise are\nremarkable traits in his character, said, on hearing of his\ndecease: \"The best priest in New York is dead.\" I have no doubt\nthat more than one would have been willing to give their own\nlives in place of his, if he could have been saved by the\nsacrifice.\n\nIn narrating events connected with F. Baker's varied career, I\nhave simply related those things of which I have had either\npersonal knowledge, or the evidence furnished by his own\ncorrespondence with a very dear friend, aided by the information\nwhich that friend has furnished me.\n{6}\nI have to thank this very kind and valued friend, the Rev. Dwight\nE. Lyman, for the aid he has given me in this way, which has\nincreased so much the completeness and interest of the Memoir. I\nam also indebted to another, still dearer to the departed, for\ninformation concerning his early history and family.\n\nI trust that those readers who are not members of the Catholic\ncommunion, especially such as have been the friends of the\nsubject and the author of this memoir, will find nothing here to\njar unnecessarily upon their sentiments and feelings. Fidelity to\nthe deceased has required me not to conceal his conviction of the\nexclusive truth and authority of the doctrine and communion of\nthe holy, Catholic, Apostolic, Roman Church. The same fidelity\nwould prevent me, if my own principles did not do so, from mixing\nup with religious questions any thing savoring of personal\narrogance, or directed to the vindication of private feelings,\nand retaliation upon individuals with whom religious conflicts\nhave brought us into collision. I wish those who still retain\ntheir friendship for the dead, and whose minds will recur with\ninterest to scenes of this narrative, in which they were\nconcerned with him, to be assured of that lasting sentiment of\nregard which he carried with him to the grave, and which survives\nin the heart of the writer of these lines.\n\n{7}\n\nIn the history of F. Baker's missionary career, I have endeavored\nto select from the materials on hand such portions of the details\nof particular missions as would make the nature of the work in\nwhich he was engaged intelligible to all classes of readers,\nwithout making the narrative too tedious and monotonous. I have\nwished to present all the diverse aspects and all the salient\npoints of his missionary life, and to give as varied and\nmiscellaneous a collection of specimens from its records as\npossible. From the necessity of the case, only a small number of\nmissions could be particularly noticed. Those which have been\npassed by have not been slighted, however, as less worthy of\nnotice than the others, but omitted from the necessity of\nselecting those most convenient for illustration of the theme in\nhand. The statistics given, in regard to numbers, etc., in the\nhistory of our missions, have all been taken from records\ncarefully made at the time, and based on an exact enumeration of\nthe communions given. I trust this volume will renew and keep\nalive in the minds of those who took part in these holy scenes,\nand who hung on the lips of the eloquent preacher of God's word\nwhose life and doctrine are contained in it, the memory of the\nholy lessons of teaching and example by which he sought to lead\nthem to heaven.\n\nOf the sermons contained in this volume, seventeen have been\nreprinted from the four volumes of \"Sermons by the Paulists,\n1861-64;\" and twelve published from MSS. Four of these are\nmission sermons, selected from the complete series, as the most\nsuitable specimens of this species of discourse. The others are\nparochial sermons, preached in the parish church of St. Paul the\nApostle, New York.\n{8}\nThere still remain a considerable number of sermons, more or less\ncomplete; but the confused and illegible state in which F. Baker\nleft his MSS. has made the task of reading and copying them very\nlaborious, and prevented any larger number from being prepared\nfor publication at the present time. I leave these Sermons, with\nthe Memoir of their author, to find their own way to those minds\nand hearts which are prepared to receive them, and to do the good\nfor which they are destined by the providence of God. May we all\nhave the grace to imitate that high standard of Christian virtue\nwhich they set before us, as true disciples of Jesus Christ our\nLord!\n\nA. F. H.\n\nSt. Paul's Church, Fifty-ninth Street,\nAdvent, 1865.\n\n{9}\n\nCONTENTS\n\n                                                        PAGE\nMemoir.                                                   13\n\nSERMON:\n    I. The Necessity of Salvation (Mission Sermon)       209\n   II. Mortal Sin (Mission Sermon)                       226\n  III. The Particular Judgement (Mission Sermon)         239\n   IV. Heaven (Mission Sermon)                           252\n    V. The Duty of Growing in Christian Knowledge\n       (First Sunday in Advent)                          263\n   VI. The Mission of St. John the Baptist\n       (Second Sunday in Advent)                         271\n  VII. God's Desire to be Loved (Christmas Day)          282\n VIII. The Failure and Success of the Gospel\n       (Sexagesima)                                      292\n   IX. The Work of Life (Septuagesima)                   303\n    X. The Church's Admonition to the Individual Soul\n       (Ash-Wednesday)                                   312\n   XI. The Negligent Christian (Third Sunday in Lent)    320\n  XII. The Cross, the Measure of Sin (Passion Sunday)    329\n XIII. Divine Calls and Warnings (Lent)                  340\n  XIV. The Tomb of Christ, the School of Comfort\n       (Easter Sunday)                                   352\n   XV. St. Mary Magdalene at the Sepulchre\n       (Easter Sunday)                                   360\n  XVI. The Preacher, the Organ of the Holy Ghost\n       (Fourth Sunday after Easter)                      370\n XVII. The Two Wills in Man\n       (Fourth Sunday after Easter)                      380\nXVIII. The Intercession of the Blessed Virgin the\n       Highest Power of Prayer\n       (Sunday within the Octave of the Ascension)       391\n  XIX. Mysteries in Religion (Trinity Sunday)            399\n   XX. The Worth of the Soul\n       (Third Sunday after Pentecost)                    408\n  XXI. The Catholic's Certitude concerning the Way\n       of Salvation (Fifth Sunday after Pentecost)       418\n\n{10}\n\n XXII. The Presence of God\n       (Fifth Sunday after Pentecost)                    429\nXXIII. Keeping the Law not Impossible\n       (Ninth Sunday after Pentecost)                    437\n XXIV. The Spirit of Sacrifice\n       (Feast of St. Laurence)                           447\n  XXV. Mary's Destiny a Type of Ours (Assumption)        456\n XXVI. Care for the Dead\n       (Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost)                465\nXXVII. Success the Reward of Merit\n       (Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost)                475\nXXVIII. The Mass the Highest Worship\n        (Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost)            484\n  XXIX. The Lessons of Autumn\n        (Last Sunday after Pentecost)                    493\n\n\n{11}\n\n  MEMOIR.\n\n{12}\n\n{13}\n\n  Memoir.\n\n\nFrancis A. Baker was born in Baltimore, March 30, 1820. The name\ngiven him in baptism was Francis Asbury, after the Methodist\nbishop of that name; but when he became a Catholic he changed it\nto Francis Aloysius, in honor of St. Francis de Sales and St.\nAloysius, to both of whom he had a special devotion, and both of\nwhom he resembled in many striking points of character.\n\nHe was of mixed German and English descent, and combined the\ncharacteristics of both races in his temperament of mind and\nbody. He had also some of the Irish and older American blood in\nhis veins. His paternal grandfather, William Baker, emigrated\nfrom Germany at an early age to Baltimore, where he married a\nyoung lady of Irish origin, and became a wealthy merchant. His\nmaternal grandfather, the Rev. John Dickens, was an Englishman, a\nMethodist preacher, who resided chiefly in Philadelphia. His\ngrandmother was a native of Georgia. During the great\nyellow-fever epidemic in Philadelphia, Mr. Dickens remained at\nhis post, and his wife fell a victim to the disease, with her\neldest daughter. His father was Dr. Samuel Baker, of Baltimore,\nand his mother, Miss Sarah Dickens. Dr. Baker was an eminent\nphysician and medical lecturer, holding the honorable positions\nof Professor of Materia Medica in the University of Maryland, and\nPresident of the Baltimore Medico-Chirurgical Society.\n{14}\nThere was a striking similarity in the character of Dr. Baker and\nhis son Francis. The writer of an obituary notice of the father,\nin the _Baltimore Athen\u00e6um_, tells us that his early\npreceptors admired \"the balance of the faculties of his mind,\"\nand that \"his classmates were attached to him for his integrity\nand affectionate manners.\" In another passage, the same writer\nwould seem to be describing Francis Baker, to those who knew him\nalone, and have never seen the original of the sketch. \"The style\nof conversation with which Dr. Baker interested his friends, his\npatients, or the stranger, was marked with an unaffected\nsimplicity. Even when he was most fluent and communicative, no\none could suspect him of an ambition to shine. He spoke to give\nutterance to pleasing and useful thoughts on science, religion,\nand general topics, _as if his chief enjoyment was to diffuse\nthe charms of his own tranquillity_. In social intercourse,\nhis dignity was the natural attitude of his virtue. On the part\nof the trifling it required but little discernment to perceive\nthe tacit warning that vulgar familiarity would find nothing\ncongenial in him. He never engrossed conversation, and seemed\nalways desirous of obtaining information by eliciting it from\nothers. Whether he listened or spoke, his countenance, receiving\nimpressions readily from his mind, was an expressive index of the\ntone of his various emotions and thoughts. The conduct of Dr.\nBaker as a physician, a Christian, and a citizen, was a mirror,\nreflecting the beautiful image of goodness in so distinct a form\nas to leave none to hesitate about the sincerity and purity of\nhis feelings. It therefore constantly reminded many of 'the\nwisdom that is from above, which is first pure, then peaceable,\ngentle, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits,\nwithout partiality, and without hypocrisy.' The friendly sympathy\nand anxiety which he evinced in the presence of human suffering\nattached all classes of his patients to him, and he was very\nhappy in his benevolent tact at winning the affection of\nchildren, even in their sickness.\"\n{15}\nDr. Baker was a member of the Methodist Church, and an intimate\nfriend of the celebrated and eloquent preacher Summerfield. He\nwas not one, however, of the enthusiastic sort, but sober, quiet,\nand reserved. He never went through any period of religious\nexcitement himself, or endeavored to practise on the\nsusceptibilities of his children. He said of himself, as one of\nhis intimate friends testifies, \"that he did not know the period\nwhen he became religious, so gradually was his life regulated by\nthe spiritual truths which enlightened his mind from childhood.\"\nHe had no hostile feelings toward the Catholic Church, and was a\ngreat admirer and warm friend of the Sisters of Charity, many of\nwhom I have heard frequently speak of him in terms of the most\naffectionate respect. His benevolence toward the poor was\nunbounded, and he was in fact endeared to all classes of the\ncommunity, without exception, in Baltimore. Francis Baker had a\nvery great respect for his father, and was very fond of talking\nof him to me, during the first period of our acquaintance, when\nhis early recollections were fresh and recent in his mind. Of his\nmother he had but a faint remembrance, having been deprived of\nher at the age of seven years. It is easy to judge of her\ncharacter, however, from that of her children, and of her sister,\nwho was a mother to her orphans from the time of her death until\nher own life was ended among them. Mrs. Baker's brother, the Hon.\nAsbury Dickens, is well known as having been for nearly half a\ncentury the Secretary of the Senate of the United States, which\nposition he held until his death, which occurred at an advanced\nage a few years since.\n\nDr. Baker had four sons and two daughters. Only one of them, Dr.\nWilliam George Baker, ever married, and he died without children:\nso that Dr. Samuel Baker left not a single grandchild after him\nto perpetuate his name or family--and of his children, one\ndaughter only survives.\n{16}\nThree of his sons were physicians of great promise, which they\ndid not live to fulfil. Francis was his third son, and the one\nwho most resembled him in character. Of his boyhood I know\nlittle, except that his companions at school who grew up to\nmanhood, and preserved their acquaintance with him, were\nextremely attached to him. One of them passed an evening and\nnight in our house, as the guest of F. Baker, but a few months\nbefore his death, with great pleasure to both. I have also heard\nsome of the good Sisters of Charity speak of having known the\nlittle Frank Baker as a boy, and mention the fact that he was\nvery fond of visiting them. I am sure that his childhood was an\nextremely happy one until the period of his father's death. This\nevent took place in October, 1835, when Francis was in his\nsixteenth year, and in the fiftieth year of Dr. Baker's life. It\nwas very sudden and unexpected, and threw a shadow of grief and\nsadness over the future of his children, which was deepened by\nthe subsequent untimely decease of the two eldest sons, Samuel\nand William.\n\nFrancis was entered at Princeton College soon after his father's\ndeath, and graduated there with the class of 1839. I am not aware\nthat his college life had any remarkable incidents. He was not\nambitious of distinguishing himself, or inclined to apply himself\nto very severe study. I believe, however, that his standing was\nrespectable, and his conduct regular and exemplary. He was not\ndecidedly religious in his early youth. Methodism had no\nattraction for him, and the Calvinistic preaching at Princeton\nwas repugnant to his reason and feelings. Whatever religious\nimpressions he had in childhood were chiefly those produced by\nthe Catholic Church, whose services he was fond of attending; but\nthese were not deep or lasting. The early death of his father,\nand the consequent responsibility and care thrown upon him as the\nmale head of the family, first caused him to reflect deeply, and\nto seek for some decided religious rule of his own life and\nconduct, and finally led him to join the Protestant Episcopal\ncommunion, and to resolve to prepare himself for the ministry.\n{17}\nAll the members of his family joined the same communion, and were\nbaptized with him, in St. Paul's Church, by the rector of the\nparish, Dr. Wyatt. This event took place in 1841, or '42. Soon\nafterward, Mr. Baker formed an acquaintance with a young man, a\ncandidate for orders and an inmate of the family of Dr.\nWhittingham, the Bishop of Maryland, which was destined to ripen\ninto a most endearing and life-long friendship, and to have a\nmost important influence on his subsequent history. This\ngentleman was Dwight Edwards Lyman, a son of the Rev. Dr. Lyman a\nrespectable Presbyterian minister, of the same age with Francis\nBaker, and an ardent disciple of the school of John Henry Newman.\nAt the time of his baptism, Mr. Baker was only acquainted with\nchurch principles as they were taught by Dr. Wyatt, who was an\nold-fashioned High Churchman. The intercourse which he had with\nMr. Lyman was the principal occasion of introducing him to an\nacquaintance with the Oxford movement, into which he very soon\nentered with his whole mind and heart. In 1842, Mr. Lyman was\nsent to St. James's College, near Hagerstown, where he remained\nseveral years, receiving orders in the interval. During this\ntime, Mr. Baker kept up a frequent and most confidential\ncorrespondence with him, which is full of liveliness and humor in\nits earlier stages, but becomes more grave and serious as both\nadvanced nearer to the time of their ordination. It continued\nduring the entire period of their ministry in the Episcopal\nChurch, and during the whole subsequent life of Mr. Baker,\nclosing with a very playful letter written by the latter, a few\ndays before his last illness. In one of these letters, he\nacknowledges his obligations to Mr. Lyman as the principal\ninstrument of making him acquainted with Catholic principles, in\nthese warm and affectionate words: \"I do not know whether you are\naware of the advantage I derived from you in the earlier part of\nour acquaintance, by reason of your greater familiarity with the\nCatholic system as exhibited in the _Anglican_ Church.\n{18}\nThe influence you exerted was of a kind of which I can hardly\nsuppose you to have been conscious; yet I am sure you will be\ngratified to think it was effectual, as I believe, to fix me more\nfirmly in the system for which I had long entertained so profound\na reverence and affection. These are benefits which I cannot\nforget, and which (if there were not other reasons of which I\nneed not speak) must always keep a place for you in the heart of\nyour unworthy friend.\"\n\nThe nature of the later correspondence between these two friends,\nand their mutual influence on each other, will appear later in\nthis narrative. There are friendships which are formed in heaven,\nand in looking back upon that which grew up between these two\nyoung men of congenial spirit, and in which I was also a sharer\nin a subordinate degree, I cannot but admire the benignant ways\nof Divine Providence, by which those strands which afterward\nbound our existence together so closely were first interwoven. I\nhad myself met Mr. Lyman, some years before this, and felt the\ncharm of his glowing and enthusiastic advocacy of principles\nwhich were just beginning to germinate in my own mind. Soon after\nLyman's removal to Hagerstown, I made the acquaintance of Mr.\nBaker, a circumstance which the latter mentions in his next\nletter to his friend in these words, which I trust I may be\npardoned for quoting--\n\n\"The Bishop's family have a young man staying with them (Mr. H.),\na convert to the Church, and one, I believe, of great promise. He\nwas a Congregationalist minister, and Rev. Mr. B. read me a\nletter from him, dated about a month ago, before his coming into\nthe Church, the tone of which was far more Catholic than that of\nmany (alas!) of those who have been partakers of the holy\ntreasures to be found only in her bosom. Mr. B. tells me that\nChurch principles are silently spreading in the North, among the\nsects. In this place, I believe that a spirit has been raised\nwhich one would hardly imagine on looking at the surface of\nthings, though that is troubled enough.\"\n\n{19}\n\nThis letter was dated April 22, 1843.\n\nI had just arrived in Baltimore, at the invitation of Dr.\nWhittingham, the Protestant Episcopal Bishop of Maryland, and\nbeen received as a candidate for orders in his diocese. Mr.\nBaker, who was also a candidate for orders, lived just opposite\nthe Bishops's residence, in Courtlandt street, and was pursuing\nhis theological studies in private. I lived in the Bishop's\nhouse, and I think I met Mr. Baker there on the first evening of\nmy arrival. We were nearly of the same age, and soon found that\nour tastes and opinions were very congenial to each other. Of\ncourse, I returned his visit very soon, and I became at once very\nintimate with his family. It was a charming place and a\ndelightful circle. Francis, as the eldest brother, was the head\nof the house. His aunt, Miss Dickens, fulfilled the office of a\nmother to her orphaned nephews and nieces with winning grace and\ngentleness. A younger brother, Alfred, then about eighteen years\nof age, was at home, pursuing his medical studies. Two sisters\ncompleted the number of the family, all bound together in the\nmost devoted and tender love, all alike in that charm of\ncharacter which is combined from it fervent and genial spirit of\nreligion, amiability of temper, and a high-toned culture of mind\nand manners, chastened and subdued by trial and sorrow. I must\nnot pass by entirely without mention another inmate of the\nfamily, whose good-humored, joyous countenance was always the\nfirst to greet me at the door--little Caroline, the last of the\nfamily servants, who was manumitted as soon as she arrived at a\nproper age, always devotedly attached to her young master, and\nafterward one of the most eager and delighted spectators at his\nordination as a Catholic priest.\n\n{20}\n\nThe house was one of those places where every article of\nfurniture and the entire spirit that pervades its arrangement\nspeaks eloquently of the past family history, and recalls the\nmemory of its departed members and departed scenes of domestic\nhappiness. Dr. Baker had left his children a competent but\nmoderate fortune, which was managed with the utmost prudence by\nFrancis, who possessed at twenty-one all the wisdom of a man of\nfifty. There was nothing of the splendor and luxury of wealth to\nbe seen in the household, but a modest simplicity and propriety,\na home-like comfort, and that perfection of order and\narrangement, regulated by a pure and exquisite taste, which is\nfar more attractive. Mr. Baker's home was always the mirror of\nhis mind. In later years, when he lived in his own rectory,\nalthough his family circle had lost two of its precious links,\nthe same charm pervaded every nook and corner of the home of the\nsurvivors, the young and idolized pastor and his two sisters. His\nstudy at St. Luke's rectory was the beau ideal of a clergyman's\nsanctuary of study and prayer, after the Church of England model;\nwith something added, which betokened a more recluse and\nsacerdotal spirit, and a more Catholic type of devotion. One\nmight have read in it Mr. Baker's character at a glance, and\nmight have divined that the inhabitant of that room was a perfect\ngentleman, a man of the most pure intellectual tastes, a pastor\ncompletely absorbed in the duties of his state, a recluse in his\nlife, and very Catholic in the tendencies and aspirations of his\nsoul.\n\nOf Mr. Baker's family, only one sister has survived him. Alfred\nBaker died first. Like his brother, he was a model of manly\nbeauty, although he did not in the least resemble him in form or\nfeature. Francis Baker, as all who ever saw him know, was\nremarkably handsome. Those who only knew him after he reached\nmature age, and remember him only as a priest, will associate\nwith his appearance chiefly that impress of sacerdotal dignity\nand mildness, of placid, intellectual composure, of purity,\nnobility, and benignity of character, which was engraven or\nrather sculptured in his face and attitude.\n{21}\nDressed in the proper costume, he might have been taken as a\nliving study for a Father of the Church, a holy hermit of the\ndesert, or a medi\u00e6val bishop. He was cast in an antique and\nclassic mould. There was not a trace of the man of modern times\nor of the man of the world about him. His countenance and manner\nin late years also bore traces of the fatiguing, laborious life\nwhich he led, and the hard, rough work to which he was devoted.\nOn account of these things, and because he was so completely a\npriest and a religious, one could scarcely think of admiring him\nas a man. His portrait was never painted, and the photographs of\nhim which were taken were none of them very successful, and most\nof them mere caricatures. An ambrotype in profile was taken at\nChicago for Mr. Healy the artist, which is admirable, and from\nthis the only good photographs have been taken; but the adequate\nimage of Father Baker, as he appeared at the altar, or when his\nface was lit up in preaching the Divine word, will live only in\nthe memory of those who knew him. At the period of which I speak,\nhe had just attained the maturity of youthful and manly beauty,\nwhich was heightened in its effect by his perfect dignity and\ngrace of manner. His brother Alfred was cast in a slighter mould,\nand had an almost feminine loveliness of aspect, figure, and\ncharacter. He was as modest and pure as a young maiden, with far\nmore vivacity of feature and manner than his brother, and a more\nvivid and playful temperament. There was nothing, however,\neffeminate in his character or countenance. He was full of\ntalent, high-spirited, generous and chivalrous in his temper,\nconscientious and blameless in his religious and moral conduct.\nHe graduated at the Catholic College of St. Mary's in Baltimore,\nand was a great favorite of the late Archbishop Eccleston and\nseveral others of the Catholic clergy. His High Church principles\nhad a strong dash of Catholicity in them, and he used often to\nspeak of the \"ignominious name, Protestant,\" which is prefixed to\nthe designation of the Episcopal Church in this country.\n{22}\nHe was a devoted admirer of Mr. Newman, and followed him, like so\nmany others, to the verge of the Catholic Church, but drew back,\nstartled and perplexed, when he passed over. Two or three years\nafter the time I am describing, he began the practice of his\nprofession, with brilliant prospects. The family removed to a\nlarger and more central residence, for his sake, near St. Paul's\nChurch, where Francis was Assistant Minister. All things seemed\nto smile and promise fair, but this beautiful bud had a worm in\nit. A slow and lingering but fatal attack of phthisis seized him,\njust as he was beginning to succeed in his professional career.\nHis brother accompanied him to Bermuda, but the voyage was rather\nan additional suffering than a benefit, and on the 9th of April,\n1852, he died. It was Good Friday. He had prayed frequently that\nhe might die on that day, and before his departure, he called his\nbrother to him, made a general confession, desired him to\npronounce over him the form of absolution prescribed in the\nEnglish Prayer-Book, and received the communion of the Episcopal\nChurch. These acts were sacramentally valueless, but I trust,\nwithout presuming to decide positively on a secret matter which\nGod alone can judge, that his intention was right before God, and\nhis error a mistake of judgment without perversity of will. His\nbrother afterward felt deeply solicitous lest he might have been\nhimself blamable for keeping him in the Episcopal communion, and\ngrieved that he had died out of the visible communion of the\nCatholic Church. Still, as he was conscious of his own integrity\nof purpose, he tranquillized his mind with the hope that his\nbrother had died in spiritual communion with the true Church and\nin the charity of God, and endeavored to aid him, as far as he\nwas still within the reach of human assistance, by having many\nmasses offered for the repose of his soul.\n\nMiss Dickens died a little before Alfred, and Elizabeth Baker\ndied some time after her brother became a Catholic, but before\nhis ordination.\n\n{23}\n\nI return now to the period when Mr. Baker and all these members\nof his family were living a retired and happy life together in\nthe home on Courtlandt street. I remember this time with peculiar\npleasure. Mr. Baker, whom I always called Frank, as he was\nusually called by his friends, partly from the peculiar affection\nthey felt for him, and also because of its appropriateness as an\nepithet of his character, went every day with me once or twice to\nprayers; and every day we walked together. When the peculiar,\ntinkling bell of old St. Paul's, which will be remembered by many\na reader of these pages, gave notice of divine service there, we\nresorted in company to that venerable and unique church. It was\nspacious and ecclesiastical, though not regularly beautiful in\nits architecture. A basso-relievo adorned its architrave, and a\nbright gilded cross graced its tall tower. It had a handsome\naltar of white marble, an object of our special pride and\ndevotion, with the usual reading-desk and pulpit rising behind\nit. The pulpit was a light and graceful structure, surmounted by\na canopy which terminated in a cross, and having another cross\nsurrounded by a glory emblazoned on its ceiling, just over the\npreacher's head. The door was in the rear of the pulpit, which\nstood far out from the chancel wall, and in the door was a\nbeautiful transparency of the Ecce Homo, lighted from the chancel\nwindow, which had an Ailanthus behind it, causing a pleasing\nillusion in the mind of the beholder that the dirty brick\npavement of the court-yard was a pretty rural garden. The chancel\nwas large and imposing. An episcopal chair, surmounted by a\nmitre, formed one of its conspicuous ornaments, and two seven\nbranched gilded gas-burners stood on the chancel rail, which were\nlighted at Evening Prayer, or _Vespers_, as we were wont to\ncall it. In this church, the people all knelt with their backs to\nthe altar, and facing the great door, whereat a number of us,\nbeing scandalized, determined to face about on all occasions and\nkneel toward the altar, which we did rigidly and in the most\nimpressive manner, to the great annoyance of the rector, Dr.\nWyatt.\n{24}\nThe _tout ensemble_ of St. Paul's Church, especially in the\ndusk of evening, when the lamps were lit, was to a hasty glance\nquite that of a Catholic church. Catholics very frequently came\nin by mistake, and sometimes poor people knelt in the aisles and\nbegan saying their prayers. Others inquired of the sexton at the\ndoor if it was a Catholic church, and some persons occupying\nseats near the door, who frequently heard his negative response\nand his direction to the Cathedral, were led in consequence to\nthink, that if St. Paul's were not a Catholic church, they too\nhad best follow the sexton's direction and go to the Cathedral.\nBesides the prayers on saints' days, Wednesdays, and Fridays, at\nSt. Paul's, there was a week-day communion service once a month.\nDr. Wyatt and his congregation were Church people after the type\nof Bishop Hobart, disposed to sympathize in a great measure with\nDr. Pusey and the Oxford divines, but in great dread of\nextravagant innovation. The parish was very large, and included\namong its members a considerable portion of the _\u00e9lite_ of\nBaltimore society. Strange as it may seem, however, outside a\ncertain circle of sturdy High Church families, and especially\namong the more worldly class, there was a prevailing sentiment\nthat true spiritual religion flourished more in the Methodist\nthan in the Episcopal Church.\n\nAlthough the mitred chair stood in the chancel, St. Paul's was\nnot the bishop's cathedral, and he was not able to take in it\nthat position and perform those acts which he felt were the\nproper prerogative of a bishop in the principal church of the\ndiocese. The bishops of the Episcopal Church in this country are\nall in the same anomalous position, without cathedrals or\nstrictly episcopal churches, in which, according to canon law,\nthe see is properly located, having dependent parochial churches\naffiliated to the mother Church.\n{25}\nThey must either be rectors of parochial churches, by election of\nthe vestry, or simple parishioners of one of their own\nsubordinate presbyters, without the right of performing any\nofficial act, or even sitting in the chancel, except on occasions\nof convention, episcopal visitation, or something of the sort.\nThe Bishop of New York was even for many years an assistant\nminister of Trinity Church. Bishop Whittingham was determined to\nremedy this evil, as far as possible, by establishing a parish,\nwhere his proper place would be conceded to him voluntarily by\nthe rector and vestry. Accordingly the Mount Calvary congregation\nwas formed, and began to worship in an old grain-warehouse. There\nwe had early Morning Prayers, and Evening Prayers on every day\nwhen St. Paul's was closed; and thither might be seen wending\ntheir way, rain or shine, the Bishop with a suite of young\necclesiastics, gentlemen and ladies of the most respectable and\ncultivated class, and numbers of the more devout people, who\nfound a real solace for their souls, amid the trials and labors\nof life, in daily common prayer to God. A little after, a more\nselect room was obtained, decorated with a large black cross in\nthe end window, and finally a church was built. We always met a\ngreat many of the Cathedral people, in the morning, going to and\nfrom Mass, and they were quite astonished at our piety. I have\nsince learned that a number of them, observing the two young men\nwho seemed to them so different from Protestants in their ways,\nbegan praying for us, and that a holy priest, F. Chakert, of St.\nAlphonsus', who died a martyr to his zeal in New Orleans,\nfrequently said mass for our conversion.\n\nIn our frequent walks, Frank Baker and myself usually, by a tacit\nconsent, took the direction of some Catholic church. Baltimore\nsurpasses every other large town in the United States, except\nperhaps St. Louis, in the relative number, and in the dignified,\nimposing style of its Catholic churches and religious\ninstitutions.\n{26}\nIt is a very picturesque and beautiful city in itself, and one of\nits most striking features is the exterior show of Catholicity\nwhich it presents, from the conspicuous position of the numerous\nCatholic edifices which are distributed through the principal\nparts of the town; often crowning the summits of some of the high\neminences with which it abounds, so that they are distinctly\nvisible in all directions, and their bells resound loudly for a\ngreat distance. Some of the Protestant churches also, haying our\necclesiastical style of architecture, and being even surmounted\nby the cross, fall into the picture as accessories, and add to\nthe impression which a stranger taking a _coup-d'oeil_ of\nthe city would receive. The Cathedral, a truly grand building,\nthough built in the Moresco style, and suggesting the idea of a\ngreat mosque in an oriental city, which had been converted by\nsome conquering crusader into a Christian temple, with its great\ndome and two towers, each of which is surmounted by a gilded\ncross, queens it majestically over the whole city. It has the\nfinest possible situation, on very high ground, with a spacious\nenclosure around it, and a modest, but very appropriate\narchiepiscopal residence in the rear of the sanctuary, fronting\non Charles street, the principal street of the court end of the\ntown, a little below the chaste and graceful monument of white\nmarble erected to the memory of Washington. Near by, the\nRedemptorist Church and Convent of St. Alphonsus, the Convent of\nthe Christian Brothers, the large and beautiful Convent and\ngarden of the Visitation Nuns, the Sisters' Orphan Asylum, and\nthe little chapel and religious house of the colored Sisters of\nProvidence, are clustered together within a very moderate area of\nterritory. Taking the Cathedral as a point of departure, you have\nat the distance of about half a mile, in the most densely peopled\npart of the town, St. Mary's Church, and the Seminary of St.\nSulpice, with its extensive gardens of many acres in extent. More\ntoward the suburbs, there are the Lazarist Church of the\nImmaculate Conception, and the large Sisters' Hospital of Mount\nHope, with its extensive grounds.\n{27}\nIn an opposite direction, not far from the Cathedral, is Loyola\nCollege, to which adjoins the Jesuit Church of St. Ignatius;\nbeyond these, St. John's, and still further, near the borders of\nthe town, the quaint and interesting St. James's Church of the\nRedemptorists, with a German Convent of religious ladies. In\nanother direction, St. Vincent de Paul's is seen, with its high\nmassive tower, and in the same quarter of the town, the\nCarmelites have a convent and chapel, the Redemptorists another\nlarge church and convent, called St. Michael's, and there is also\nthe large and handsome parish church of St. Patrick, with its\nhigh altar of green marble. Following the outer circle of the\ncity toward the harbor and fort, and returning to a point in line\nwith St. Alphonsus', we have the Church of the Holy Cross, St.\nJoseph's, and St. Peter's, the latter of which has a congregation\ncomposed in great measure of converts. The deep and heavy bell of\nthe Cathedral is repeatedly heard sending forth its booming notes\nat different hours of the day, answered by St. Alphonsus' and St.\nVincent de Paul's, while the other bells take up the refrain in\nthe distance, and the smaller convent bells throw in from time to\ntime, at Angelus, Vespers, or Compline, their silvery, tinkling\nnotes. These Catholic sounds are heard at intervals from morning\ntill night, and the bells of some of the Protestant churches join\nin also, on many days during the week, ringing for prayers. The\nCatholic traditions of Baltimore and Maryland, interwoven with\ntheir existence from the first; the memory of Charles Carroll of\nCarrollton, of Archbishops Carroll and Eccleston, and of many\nother distinguished Marylanders among the Catholic clergy, and,\nlastly, the large Catholic population, and the wealth, education,\nand social position of a large class of the members of the\nChurch, who have always mingled freely in society and\nintermarried with Protestants, specially those of the Episcopal\nChurch--all these and other causes combine to make the Catholic\nreligion conspicuous and powerful in Baltimore, and to keep it\nalways confronting the adherents of other religions, whichever\nway they turn.\n{28}\nIt cannot be ignored or kept out of sight and mind. It must be\nbattled with or submitted to. Hence, Protestantism in Baltimore,\namong the ultra-Protestant sects, has borne a character of\nunusually intense and persistent hatred to the Catholic Church;\nand a suppressed spirit of violence has pervaded the lower\norders, showing itself ordinarily by slight insults offered to\nclergymen and religious, but occasionally bursting out in scenes\nof riot and bloodshed, in which not merely the rabble took part,\nbut where gentlemen were also engaged, and men in high stations\nlent their influence and protection to shield and encourage the\nlawless violators of the peace.\n\nA number of the Catholic churches here described have been built\nsince the year 1842. The general appearance of the city, however,\nand the relative number of Catholic institutions, was the same.\nIt was a very interesting place to me from its novelty, and very\nwell known to my new friend and companion, Frank Baker. We\nperambulated the town and reconnoitred all its environs,\npenetrating into every nook and corner where there was the\nsmallest chance of finding something to be seen. The Catholic\nchurches underwent a repeated and thorough visitation and\nscrutiny, by turns. An indefinable attraction drew us to those\nsacred places, and made us linger and loiter in them without ever\ngrowing weary. I know now what it was. It was the power of that\nSacred Presence which once drew the disciples and the multitudes\nafter it, when visibly seen, and which now attracts the soul by\nits invisible charm in the Blessed Sacrament. We never went to\nmass or to any Catholic service, because we were forbidden to do\nso by the bishop. We never sought out any Catholic priests, or\nencountered any, except twice by accident. We read no Catholic\nbooks of controversy or devotion, never knelt to pray before the\naltar, and did not know or suspect where we were going.\n{29}\nBut the influence of grace was acting most powerfully during\nthose moments in which we were hanging about the altar, and\nunconsciously drinking in its sacred influence. Our favorite\nplace was the chapel of St. Mary's College, and the Calvary\nbehind it, where the clergy of the Sulpitian Society are buried.\nThis is the sweetest Catholic shrine I have ever visited. The\nCalvary was not open to visitors, but for some reason we were\nnever interfered with, although we went very often, and remained\nby the hour. Perhaps our guardian angels knew the future, and led\nus there unwittingly to ourselves. Our Lord foresaw it, if they\ndid not, and was thinking of the day when one of the two would be\nthere in company with all the clergy of the diocese in a\nspiritual retreat, and the day when the other, in that same\nchapel, would be consecrated to the service of the sanctuary.\n[Footnote 1]\n\n    [Footnote 1: Father Baker was ordained sub-deacon and deacon\n    in that chapel, a few days before his ordination to the\n    priesthood in the Cathedral.]\n\nMany of those who participated in that retreat will recall the\nrecollection of it, on reading these pages.\n\nArchbishop Kenrick, the sage of our American hierarchy and one of\nits saints, that perfect model of a prelate according to the\nancient type of the purest Catholic times, the pattern of\necclesiastical learning, Episcopal dignity and vigilance,\napostolic zeal, sacerdotal gentleness, and Christian humility,\nreminding one of the character ascribed by historians to Pope\nBenedict XIV., sat at the head of his venerable clergy in the\nsanctuary during all the exercises. Of the clergymen present,\nsome had been forty years in the priesthood, and one at least was\nordained by Archbishop Carroll. Some are now bishops, or have\nmodestly declined the offered mitre. I was then a priest, and was\nassisting F. Walworth in giving the retreat, and Mr. Baker was\nbut just received into the Church. He came to visit me at the\nspot where we had passed so many pleasant hours in years gone by,\nand to pay his respects to the excellent Sulpitians by whom his\nbrother had been educated, and to the other clergymen whose\nbrother and associate he aspired to become in due time.\n{30}\nHe was welcomed most tenderly by the warm-hearted Sulpitians, and\ngreeted with an ardent interest and respect by the clergy and\nyoung ecclesiastics who were gathered in that sacred retreat of\nscience and piety. Several of these good clergymen have since\nspoken of that retreat, which so many circumstances combined to\nmake unusually pleasant, as among the most cherished\nrecollections of their lives. Since I have been betrayed into\nthis long digression by the associations connected with St.\nMary's Chapel, I will venture to add one other little incident,\nof which I have been several times reminded by the venerable\nPresident of Mount St. Mary's College. One afternoon, just at\nsunset, the preacher concluded his discourse by a description of\nthe death of a holy priest, contrasting the glory of his\nsuccessfully accomplished ministry with that of the hero in the\nmerely secular and temporal order. At the peroration, the parting\nbeams of the sun irradiated a tall marble monument over the grave\nof a well-known Sulpitian priest, behind the chancel window, in\nfull view of the audience, but unseen by the preacher, and gave\nan illustration of his words most affecting and impressive to\nthose who witnessed it. It was emblematic, also, of that noble\nlife which was to be accomplished and brought to such a beautiful\nclose, within twelve short years, by that dear companion and\nfriend who was just then on the eve of leaving all to follow\nChrist, and whose generous heart was swelling with the first\nemotions of his divine vocation, long since secretly inspired\ninto him while haunting the blessed resting-place of those holy\npriests. But I have anticipated what was yet in the unknown and\nundreamed-of future, when we two ardent and enthusiastic youths\nwere yielding our imaginations to the poetic and religious charm\nwhich was the precursor of more earnest and durable convictions.\n\n{31}\n\nSt. Mary's was our favorite resort, but we were also impressed in\na different way by the austere and monastic aspect of St.\nJames's, where the Redemptorist Fathers, then newly established,\nhad their convent; and I remember that we often conversed about\nthat order with great curiosity and interest. We watched intently\nthe building of St. Alphonsus' Church, and wandered through the\nsanctuary and sacristy and garden, and into the shop where the\nlay-brothers and other artificers were at work, occasionally, to\nour great delight, greeted by these good brothers, who probably\ntook us for priests, as we were then ordained and dressed in long\ncassocks, with their salutation in German, _Gelobt sey Jesus\nChristus_.\n\nAnother object of great interest to us was a monument to the\nmemory of a former pastor, in St. Patrick's Church, bearing the\nsimple and touching inscription:\n\n    \"To The Good De Moranville.\"\n\nThis unfeigned tribute of affection to the memory of a good and\nholy priest did more in a few moments to efface from my mind the\neffect of the calumnies I had heard from childhood against the\nCatholic clergy, than a volume of controversy could have done.\n\nMr. Baker took me also to visit the monument erected to Sister\nAmbrosia by the City of Baltimore. This lady, the daughter of the\nvenerable Mrs. Collins, who died at the age of nearly one hundred\nyears, and was one of those who welcomed Mr. Baker most warmly\ninto the Catholic Church, and the sister of the Very Rev. Mr.\nCollins, of Cincinnati, was universally regarded as a saint, both\nby Catholics and Protestants. She had been very intimate in Dr.\nBaker's family, and attended his two elder sons during their last\nillness. She fell herself a victim to her charity in attending\nthe sick in the hospitals, leaving the sweet fragrance of her\nsanctity to linger in the memories of those who knew her. We\nvisited also the graves of those brothers of Mr. Baker whose\ndeath had produced so great a change in his character and\nprospects.\n{32}\nThey were buried in a Methodist grave-yard, adjoining the\nbeautiful Green Mount Cemetery. Francis had erected a marble\ntombstone to their memory, on which was carved a cross, and the\nCatholic inscription, _Requiescant in pace_. When I returned\nto Baltimore, after my ordination to the Catholic priesthood, I\nrevisited the spot, but found the cross and prayer had been\nremoved. When I had the opportunity of asking Mr. Baker for an\nexplanation of this, he informed me that he had removed them of\nhis own accord, because he thought it an indelicate intrusion on\nthe religious sentiments and feelings of those to whom the\nburial-place belonged, to leave there a Catholic inscription.\n\nMeanwhile we were studying and reading regularly. Bishop\nWhittingham had a very fine and extensive library, and was\nconstantly supplied with the choicest books and periodicals of\nthe Anglo-Catholic party. The remarkable movement led by Dr.\nPusey and Mr. Newman was at its height. In this country we were\nsomewhat behindhand, and were following at some distance in the\nwake of the most advanced English leaders, so that the later\ndevelopments rather took us by surprise. We were reading Mr.\nNewman's earlier works, and only partly aware of the great change\ntaking place in himself and others. The accusation of Romanizing\nwas treated as a calumny, and we had no thought of any thing\nexcept bringing our own Church up to what we thought to be the\nCatholic level, and endeavoring to establish an intercommunion\nbetween it and the Roman and Greek Churches through mutual\nconsultation and concession, and a return to the supposed state\nof things \"before the separation of East and West.\" At least this\nis true of us in Maryland, whatever might have been the case with\na small number elsewhere. Probably the effort to make the\nProtestant Episcopal Church take the attitude of being Catholic\nwas never made more earnestly and with better hope of success\nthan in Maryland.\n{33}\nThe bishop headed the movement, and, besides the clergymen\nalready in his diocese who were ready to second him, he attracted\nthither a number of young men who were devoted to his person and\nwho sympathized in his views. I have no wish to speak\ndisrespectfully or unkindly of Dr. Whittingham. He has always\nbeen a most violent opponent of the Catholic Church, and he has\nseen fit, like some others of the clergy of his peculiar stripe,\nto break off all intercourse with those who have left his\ncommunion to join it. I do not, however, attribute to him any\npersonal animosity as the motive for this, but merely a mistaken\nreligions zeal. He was always very kind and generous to his young\nclergymen, strict and self-denying in his life, and laborious in\nthe fulfilment of his official duties. His vigorous\nadministration infused a new energy and activity into the\nEpiscopal Church in his diocese, and gave a powerful impetus to\nwhat was called the \"Catholic\" movement. A periodical entitled\n_The True Catholic, Reformed, Protestant, and Free_, was\nestablished, under the care of Hugh Davey Evans, a learned lawyer\nand very able theological disputant. A college, conducted by\nyoung men trained at the celebrated St. Paul's College, Flushing,\nby Dr. Muhlenberg, was founded at a beautiful and extensive old\ncountry-seat, known as \"Fountain Rock,\" near Hagerstown, and a\nschool, called \"St. Timothy's Hall,\" near Baltimore. The bishop\nand a large number of his clergy went about dressed in long\ncassocks; altars, crosses, frequent services, ecclesiastical\nforms and observances, and other outward signs and accompaniments\nof an approximation to Catholic doctrines and rites, were to be\nseen everywhere. The Protestant Episcopal Church was loudly\nproclaimed to be the Catholic Church of the country, and, in a\nword, the theory taught in the Oxford Tracts and in the earlier\nwritings of Mr. Newman was sought to be put in actual practice.\nAn unusual number of the clergy were unmarried men, and the\nproject of founding a monastic order was entertained by several.\n{34}\nThose were stirring times. Of course opposition was excited in\nthe bosom of the Episcopal Church. The Low Churchmen formed a\nstrong and active minority in the Convention, and did their\nutmost to thwart the projects of the bishop. Very spicy debates\ntook place in consequence, and as there were very able and\ndistinguished men among the lay delegates, who brought all their\nlegal skill and forensic eloquence into play, the sessions of the\nConvention were often intensely interesting and exciting. The\npulpit, the newspapers, and controversial pamphlets were employed\nin the warfare by both sides, and the community generally,\noutside of the Episcopal Church, were quite alive with interest\nin the questions discussed.\n\nWe had a little society called the \"Church Reading Society,\" of\nwhich Mr. Evans was president, and Mr. Baker and myself were\nmembers, where certain prayers for Catholic unity were offered,\nand papers bearing on the topics which interested us were read by\nthe members in turn. The different seasons of the ecclesiastical\nyear were very strictly observed, especially Advent, Christmas,\nLent, and Holy Week. The English press was at that time pouring\nforth a stream of books of devotion and sacred poetry, sermons\nand spiritual instructions, borrowed or imitated from the\ntreasures of Catholic sacred literature. There was a tide setting\nstrongly backward toward the faith and practice of ancient times,\nand we surrendered ourselves to its influence, without thinking\nwhere it would eventually land us. We had no thought of ever\nleaving the communion to which we belonged. Never, in any of our\nconversations, did we even speak of such a thing as possible, or\ncall in question the legitimate claim of the authority, under\nwhich we were living, to our obedience. We did not sympathize\nwith the bishop and the larger number of the clergymen of our\ntheological party in their sentiment of hostility and antipathy\nto the Roman communion.\n{35}\nThe common ground taken was that the Roman Catholic bishops in\nEngland and the United States are schismatical intruders upon the\nlawful jurisdiction of the English and Anglo-American bishops of\nthe Protestant succession. Bishop Whittingham maintained the\nstronger ground that the Roman Church throughout the world is\nschismatical and all but formally heretical. He retained the old\nspirit of vehement dislike and opposition to the See of Rome and\nevery thing in the doctrine and policy of the church connected\nwith the Papal supremacy, which characterized the old divines of\nthe Church of England. He had in his mind an ideal of the\nprimitive Church, according to which he wished and hoped that a\nReformed Catholic Church should be reconstructed by the common\nconsent of all the bishops of the world, and which should absorb\ninto itself all the Christian sects. This idea is necessarily\ncommon to all who profess to hold Catholic principles in the\nAnglican communion. The profession of the doctrine of unity in\none, visible, Catholic Church, of itself qualifies the isolation\nof any body of Christians from the great Christian family, as an\nanomalous and irregular condition. A return to unity or union of\nsome kind must necessarily become an object of desire and effort.\nSo long as one maintains that the Anglican Church is essentially\nCatholic, he must maintain also that the Roman Church is in some\nway wrong in refusing to recognize it, and that the Greek Church\nis likewise wrong in refusing to do so. Hence he must look on\nsome concessions to be made by both Churches as the necessary\ncondition of the reunion of Christendom. So far, all who profess\nto be \"Anglo-Catholics\" must agree. But when the question\nbecomes, how much concession must be made to the Anglican\ncommunion, or how much concession must be made by her, how far\nthe Greek Church, the Roman Church, or the Anglican Church have\nerred; and upon what basis of doctrine and ecclesiastical polity\nthey are to be reformed or restored to union, the agreement is\nended.\n{36}\nEach individual attributes as much or as little error and\ncorruption to other Churches, or his own Church, as suits his own\nnotions. Each one, or each separate clique, has a peculiar ideal\nof the true Catholic Church. One may regard the Anglican Church\nas almost perfect, and wish to bring all Christendom to imitate\nit. Another finds his beau ideal in the Greek Church. Another\nregards his own Church as very defective, and the Roman Church as\nthe most perfect, desiring that the Holy See should only abate\njust enough of its claims to let in Greeks without any\nacknowledgment of their schismatic contumacy, and Anglicans\nwithout giving up that they are in heresy and destitute of any\nlegitimate episcopacy.\n\nIt is impossible to draw any exact line of demarcation between\nthe adherents of these different views. At the same time, we may\nsay that, in a general sense, one class held the Anglican Church\nas paramount in its claim of allegiance, and the Church Catholic\nas subordinate; while the other held the Church Catholic to be\nparamount, and the Anglican Church subordinate. With the first\nclass, Catholic principles and doctrines were taken hold of as a\nmeans of strengthening and exalting the Protestant Episcopal\nChurch as such, and giving her a victory over the rest of\nChristendom; with the other class, they were embraced in a spirit\nof deep sympathy with universal Christendom, and with the view of\nbringing back the Protestant world to the great Christian family.\n\nThe first class alone can be relied on as devoted adherents of\nAnglicanism, and they only hold a strong polemical position\nagainst the claim of the Roman See to unconditional submission.\nThe other class have their minds and their hearts open to all\nCatholic influences. They advance continually nearer and nearer\nin belief and sympathy to the great Catholic body, and great\nnumbers of them pass over to the Catholic communion. Hence we\nfind that almost all the bishops and dignitaries who have joined\nin the Oxford Movement have belonged decidedly to the first\nclass, and have always tried to hold the second class in check.\n{37}\nThe few who have belonged to the second class, such as Bishop\nIves and the Archdeacons Manning and Wilberforce, have eventually\nfound allegiance to the Anglican Church incompatible with the\nparamount claims of the Church Catholic, and have openly\nrenounced it.\n\nBut while it is evident that the position of decided and\ndetermined hostility to Rome is absolutely necessary, as Mr.\nNewman long ago remarked, to High Church Anglicanism, it is\nequally evident that it is the most narrow, inconsistent, and\ninconsequent position taken by any class of Protestants. It cuts\nthem off from all real sympathy and community of feeling with the\ngreat Catholic body; and although there may be a pretence of\nsympathy with the Oriental Church, it is a mere pretence, and a\nmost illogical and baseless one. It cuts them off equally from\nall the rest of Protestant Christendom. Yet, it is only the\nCatholic and Greek Churches which offer a solid and substantial\nbasis for those doctrinal and hierarchical principles which make\ntheir only distinctive character; and it is only the Protestant\nportion of their Church, and its close intellectual, social,\npolitical, moral, and religious alliance with the other\nProtestant Churches, which gives them any standing, influence, or\npower in the world. A man of liberal, enlarged, and Christian\ntemper of mind, cannot live in such narrow limits or breathe such\na confined air. He must have communion with something greater\nthan the Protestant Episcopal Church. If he regards the great\nCatholic Church as essentially corrupt, he must sympathize with\nthe Protestant Reformation. If the ground which, as I shall\npresently show, the High Church bishops maintain, is correct,\nthen the continental Protestants were bound to come out when they\ndid and form new churches. Where were they to get bishops? How\nwere they to preserve the continuity of organization and the\napostolic succession? The Church of England did not admonish them\nof the necessity of doing so. She did not proffer them episcopal\nordination.\n{38}\nBut she made common cause with them, and supported them in their\nrevolt, invited them over to England, and gave them places in the\nEnglish Church, sent delegates to their great Calvinistic Synod\nof Dort, and in other ways lent them sanction and countenance,\nwithout breathing a hint that she was a whit better than they.\nArguments from Scripture and ancient authors in favor of three\norders and a liturgy may be very solid and conclusive, but they\nare also very petty and miserable when they are made the basis of\narrogant claims by those whose very existence sprang from the\nassumption that the universal episcopate had betrayed its trust\nand apostatized from the true doctrine of Christ. The learned\nWilliam Palmer has seen the necessity of justifying the attitude\nof the continental Protestant Churches, and therefore concedes to\nthem, on the plea of necessity, valid ordination and a legitimate\nconstitution. An Anglican, who is a thorough and consistent\nopponent of Rome, ought to take common ground with Protestants.\nOne who turns his back on Protestantism, and abjures the\nReformation, ought to make common cause with Rome and the\nCatholic Church, even though he as yet holds the opinion that his\ncommunion is a true and living branch of the Church of Christ.\n\nIt may seem strange to those who have never studied or\nsympathized in the Oxford movement, that men who adopted certain\nfundamental Catholic principles did not at once embrace the faith\nand submit to the authority of the Catholic Church, but remained\na long time in the Episcopal communion, or even deliberately\nchose it, after having passed their early life in some other\nProtestant sect. This seems strange to those who have always been\nCatholics, and equally strange to the majority of Protestants. So\nmuch so, that we have been suspected, and by many fully believed\nto have been all along concealed Roman Catholics, working in the\nEpiscopal Church for the purpose of \"Romanizing\" it.\n{39}\nA few days before I was received into the Catholic Church, a near\nand venerable relative of mine said to me: \"I am very glad you\nhave become a Catholic, for I can respect a sincere Roman\nCatholic, but I cannot respect a Puseyite; you will now sail\nunder your true colors. When will H. B. (a cousin of mine, who is\nan Episcopalian clergyman) do the same thing?\"\n\nThe truth of the matter is, that we all had imbibed such an\nintense prejudice from our early education against the Roman\nChurch, that we were appalled at the thought of joining her\ncommunion. When certain Catholic truths began to dawn upon our\nminds, it was indistinctly. To those who were bred in the\nAnglican Church, it was the natural and obvious course to remain\nthere as long as their consciences would permit. To others, it\nwas natural to look for a resting-place in that communion of\nwhich our own particular sects were only offshoots, with which\neducated people of English descent are so familiar through the\nhistory and literature of our native language, whose services\nmany of us had frequently attended from childhood, and where many\nof us likewise had relatives and friends. It is a small matter to\ngo from one Protestant sect to another, in itself considered, and\nit is no wonder that any orthodox Protestant should prefer the\nEpiscopal Church to any of the religious bodies which have\nseceded from it. Besides this, there was a _via media_\noffered to us by a great body of divines in the Episcopal Church,\nbetween Rome on the one hand and Protestantism on the other,\nwhich appeared to be exactly the thing we wanted. I acknowledge\nthat I was too easily allured by this specious pretence, and\nfailed to examine with due care the claims of the Church in\ncommunion with the See of Rome to be the true and only Church of\nChrist. I do not think Mr. Baker, notwithstanding that his\nprejudices were far less than mine, ever gave the subject serious\nand careful consideration, until long after he had become an\nEpiscopalian minister.\n{40}\nWe knew too little, however, of the subject, to feel any\nconscientious obligations in that direction. I can truly say that\nI never for one moment deliberated on the question of becoming a\nCatholic, even when I had the fear of death before my eyes, until\nafter I left Baltimore in the autumn of 1845. I never heard from\nMr. Baker, up to that time, a word which betrayed the existence\nin his mind of any practical doubt about his duty in this\nrespect. The growth of Catholic principles in our minds was\ngradual. By degrees, the mists of misrepresentation, prejudice,\nand ignorance which obscured the Catholic Church and her\ndoctrines were dissipated and vanished. Our feelings of\nveneration and love for the great Church of Christendom\nincreased. Still, as long as we were not convinced that actual\ncommunion with the Church of Rome and submission to her supremacy\nwas necessary, _jure divino_, to the catholicity of any\nlocal Church, we remained firm in our allegiance to the\necclesiastical authority of our bishop. This is only an instance\nof what was going on in the case of many both in England and the\nUnited States. And it appears from this statement, that whereas\nall the disciples of the Oxford movement began on essentially the\nsame ground, and that, one which implied strong and decisive\nopposition to Rome, one portion of them progressed continually,\nand another remained stationary or retrograded, thus producing\nseparation and division in the ranks. What I wish to show now is,\nthat those who progressed were logically compelled to do so by\nthe principles of the movement itself, and that those who\nremained stationary, although they held a position which was\nnecessary to the maintenance of Anglicanism, were illogical and\ninconsequent.\n\nThe advocates of the claim of the Church of England to be the\nonly legitimate and Catholic Church in England, and of the same\nclaim for the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States,\nwere obliged to make out some case against the bishops of these\ntwo countries who were under the jurisdiction of the Roman See\nand who proclaimed themselves to be the only lawful and Catholic\nbishops, sustained as they were in this claim by all the other\nbishops of Western Christendom.\n{41}\nThe possession of the titles and temporalities of the ancient\nsees in England by the Established Church naturally suggested the\nplausible pretext that the Church of England of to-day is the\nlegitimate successor of the Church of England before the\nseparation under Henry VIII. Hence, other bishops, exercising\nepiscopal functions within the dioceses of the bishops of the\nChurch of England, are schismatical intruders, and their\ncongregations are schismatical. The same principle was extended\nto the United States, on the plea that the Bishop of London had\nepiscopal jurisdiction over the English colonies, and moreover\nthat the Protestant Episcopal bishops were first on the ground,\nand had acquired possession before the \"Romish\" bishops, as they\nchose to call them, came. Now this theory is forced to answer one\nquestion: Are the bishops of France, Spain, &c., the legitimate\nCatholic bishops of those countries, and is their communion the\ntrue and only Catholic Church there, or not? Is this question\nanswered in the affirmative? Then, who are the Catholic bishops\nin Canada, Louisiana, Alabama, Florida, Texas, and California?\nWho went first to China and India? Are the Anglican bishops in\nthese places schismatical intruders or not? If not, why not? And\nif not, why are Roman Catholic bishops schismatical intruders in\nLondon and New-York? The Protestant Episcopal Churches of England\nand the United States pay no attention whatever to any claim of\njurisdiction by the Catholic Church in any part of the world, but\nseek to thrust themselves in and make converts wherever they can.\nIn order to justify this attitude, and at the same time to\nprofess Catholic principles, it is necessary to maintain that the\nentire Roman communion is schismatical and heretical, and the\nProtestant Episcopal Church is the true and only Catholic Church,\nat least in Western Christendom.\n{42}\nThis idea is the real _animus_ of the Protestant Episcopate,\nand its highest expression is found in the opinion so common\namong Protestants, and held even by Mr. Newman some years after\nhe commenced the Oxford Tracts, that the Pope is Antichrist. The\ncharges of the English bishops, especially those delivered after\nthe publication of the Oxford Tract No. 90, all breathe this\nspirit. Bishop Elliott, of Georgia, in a sermon preached at the\nconsecration of the missionary bishops, Boone and Southgate, in\nSt. Peter's Church, Philadelphia, in 1843 or '44, spoke of the\nCatholic missionaries as \"dealing out death instead of life\" to\nthe heathen. Bishop Whittingham held this view, and \"Tridentine\nSchismatic\" was one of the appellations he gave to the Rev. Dr.\nWhite, of Baltimore, in a pamphlet which he published against\nthat gentleman. In his Annual Address for 1846 he speaks of me\nand other converts in the following language: \"The lapse of\nseveral prominent members of our English sister, and of one even\nin our own little band, _into the defilements of the Romish\ncommunion_, has but too far justified others in sounding the\nnote of alarm,\" &c.[Footnote 2] The language he made use of in\none of his addresses was such, that Mr. Baker, then one of his\npresbyters, positively declined to read it for him in the\nConvention, his own voice being too weak to do so. The Rev. A. C.\nCoxe, now a bishop, published a poem on the occasion of the\nordination of the present Bishop of Newark to the diaconate, in\nRome, entitled \"Hymn of the Priests, to lament one of their\nnumber who has been sacrilegiously reordained a deacon, _after\nabjuring the Catholic communion_, at Rome.\" In contrast with\nthis is the following, which was copied into the _True\nCatholic_ for December, 1843. [Footnote 3]\n\n    [Footnote 2: Journal of Convention of Maryland, 1846, p. 25.]\n\n    [Footnote 3: Journal of Convention of Maryland, 1846, p. 383.]\n\n{43}\n\n  Conversion Of A Popish Priest To The Catholic Church At\n  Chicester.\n\n  The Cathedral, _Sunday, October_ 15.\n\n  In residence, the Lord Bishop, the very Rev. the Dean, the Ven.\n  Arch-deacon Webber, and the Rev. Charles Webber, can. res. We\n  have to record this week one of the most interesting ceremonies\n  ever performed within the walls of this sacred edifice, namely,\n  the public admission of a clerical convert from the Church of\n  Rome, into the bosom of the Holy Catholic Church in this\n  country. The morning prayers were chanted by the Rev. J. P.\n  Roberts, Sub-dean. The _Te Deum_ and _Jubilate_ was\n  Boyce in A. At the ending of the Litany, the Bishop and the\n  Dean proceeded to the altar, while the choir performed Weldon's\n  _Sanctus_; after which (the penitent, Mr. Vignati, an\n  Italian gentleman, who had been for two years a priest in the\n  Romish Communion, standing without the rails) the bishop\n  addressed the congregation in the following words:--\n\n  \"Dearly beloved, we are here met together for the reconciling\n  of a penitent (lately of the Church of Rome) to the Established\n  Church of England, as to a true and sound part of Christ's Holy\n  Catholic Church. Now, that this weighty affair may have its due\n  effect, let us, in the first place, humbly and devoutly pray to\n  Almighty God for his blessing upon us in that pious and\n  charitable office we are going about.\n\n  \"Prevent us, O Lord, in all our doings with Thy most gracious\n  favor, and further us with Thy continual help, that in this,\n  and all other our works begun, continued, and ended in Thee, we\n  may glorify Thy holy name, and finally by Thy mercy obtain\n  everlasting life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.\n\n  \"Almighty God, who showest to them that be in error the light\n  of Thy truth, to the intent that they may return into the way\n  of righteousness, grant unto all them that are or shall be\n  admitted into the fellowship of Christ's religion, that they\n  may eschew those things that are contrary to their profession,\n  and follow all such things as are agreeable to the same,\n  through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.\"\n\n  Then was read a part of the 119th Psalm, from verses 161 to\n  168, with the _Gloria Patri_.\n\n  After which the dean read the following lesson from Luke\n  xv.:--\"Then drew near unto him the publicans and sinners for to\n  hear Him; and the Pharisees and Scribes murmured, saying, this\n  man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them. And he spake this\n  parable unto them, saying, What man of you having an hundred\n  sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and\n  nine in the wilderness, and go after that which was lost, until\n  he find it? And when he hath found it he layeth it on his\n  shoulders rejoicing; and when he cometh home he calleth\n  together his friends and his neighbors, saying unto them,\n  rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost. I\n  say unto you that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one\n  sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just\n  persons who need no repentance.\"\n\n{44}\n\n  After this the nine first verses of the 115th Psalm was sung by\n  the choir. Then the bishop, sitting in his chair, spake to the\n  penitent (who was kneeling) as follows:--\n\n  Dear brother, I have good hope that you have well weighed and\n  considered with yourself the great work you are come about\n  before this time: but inasmuch as with the heart man believeth\n  unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto\n  salvation; that you may give the more honor to God, and that\n  this present congregation of Christ here assembled may also\n  understand your mind and will in these things, and that this\n  your declaration may the more confirm you in your good\n  resolutions, you shall answer plainly to those questions, which\n  we, in the name of God, and of His Church, shall propose to you\n  touching the same.\n\n  Art thou thoroughly persuaded that those books of the Old and\n  New Testament, which are received as Canonical Scriptures by\n  this Church, contain sufficiently all doctrine requisite and\n  necessary to eternal salvation through faith in Jesus\n  Christ?--I am so persuaded.\n\n  Dost thou believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven\n  and earth &c.--All this I steadfastly believe.\n\n  Art thou truly sorrowful that thou hast not followed the way\n  prescribed in these Scriptures for the direction of the faith\n  and practice of a true disciple of Christ Jesus?--I am heartily\n  sorry, and I hope for mercy through Christ Jesus.\n\n  Dost thou embrace the truth of the Gospel in the love of it,\n  and steadfastly resolve to live godly, righteously, and soberly\n  in this present world, all the days of thy life?--I do so\n  embrace it, and do so resolve, God being my helper.\n\n  Dost thou earnestly desire to be received into the communion of\n  this Church, as into a sound part of Christ's Holy Catholic\n  Church?--This I earnestly desire.\n\n  Dost thou renounce all the errors and superstitions of the\n  present Romish Church, so far as they are come to thy\n  knowledge?--I do, from my heart, renounce them all.\n\n  Dost thou, in particular, renounce the twelve last Articles\n  added in the Confession, commonly called \"The Creed of Pope\n  Pius IV.,\" after having read them, and duly considered\n  them?_-_I do, upon mature deliberation, reject them all,\n  as grounded upon no warrant of Scripture, but rather repugnant\n  to the Word of God.\n\n  Wilt thou conform thyself to the Liturgy of the Church of\n  England, as by law established, and be diligent in attending\n  the prayers and other offices of the Church?--I will do so by\n  the help of God.\n\n{45}\n\n  Then the bishop standing, said: \"Almighty God, who hath given\n  you a sense of your errors, and a will to do these things,\n  grant also unto you the strength and power to perform the same,\n  that He may accomplish His work, which He hath begun in you,\n  through Jesus Christ. Amen.\"\n\n  The Absolution.--Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, who, of his\n  great mercy, hath promised forgiveness of sins to all them that\n  with hearty repentance and true faith turn unto Him, have mercy\n  upon you, pardon and deliver you from all your sins, confirm\n  and strengthen you in all goodness, and bring you to\n  everlasting life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.\n\n  Then the bishop, taking him by the hand, said: \"I, Ashurst\n  Turner, Bishop of Chichester, do, upon this thy solemn\n  profession and earnest request, receive thee into the Holy\n  Communion of the Church of England, in the name of the Father,\n  the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.\"\n\n  Then was said the Lord's Prayer, all kneeling, after which as\n  follows:--O God of truth and love, we bless and magnify Thy\n  holy name for Thy great mercy and goodness in bringing this Thy\n  servant into the communion of this Church; give him, we beseech\n  Thee, stability and perseverance in that faith, of which he\n  hath, in the presence of God and of this congregation,\n  witnessed a good confession. Suffer him not to be moved from it\n  by any temptations of Satan, enticements of the world, scoffs\n  of irreligious men, or the revilings of those still in error;\n  but guard him by Thy grace against all these snares, and make\n  him instrumental in turning others from the errors of their\n  ways, to the saving of their souls from death, and the covering\n  a multitude of sins. And in Thy good time, O Lord, bring, we\n  pray Thee, into the way of truth all such as have erred and are\n  deceived; and so fetch them home, blessed Lord, to Thy flock,\n  that there may be one flock under one Shepherd, the Lord Jesus\n  Christ, to Whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be all\n  honor and glory, world without end. Amen.\n\n  Then the bishop addressed the person admitted, saying: \"Dear\n  brother, seeing that you have, by the goodness of God,\n  proceeded thus far, I must put you in mind that you take care\n  to go on in that good way into which you are entered; and for\n  your establishment and furtherance therein, that if you have\n  not been confirmed, you endeavor to be so the next opportunity,\n  and receive the Holy Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. And may\n  God's Holy Spirit ever be with you. Amen. The peace of God,\n  which passeth all understanding, keep your heart and mind by\n  Christ Jesus. Amen.\"\n\n{46}\n\n  Thus ended this most interesting ceremony; after which the\n  communion service went on, at which the bishop and dean\n  officiated. Weldon's _Sanctus_, B. Brown's _Kyrie_,\n  and Child's _Creed_ in G. The sermon was preached by the\n  dean, from Luke 15th, ch. 4th, 5th, and 6th verses, of which we\n  need not say much here, as we hope it will shortly be published\n  by Mr. W. H. Mason, by permission of the dean, he having been\n  requested so to do. Anthem, \"O Lord, our\n  Governor.\"--Kent.--_Church Intelligencer_.\n\n\n\nThe Roman Church is throughout the pages of the _True\nCatholic_charged with idolatry, and in one passage which I had\nmarked, but cannot now find one reason given why Episcopalians\ncannot attend Catholic services is, because by so doing they\nparticipate in idolatry. On the other hand, Protestant ministers\nare never required to make any such abjuration as the one above\ncited, on being received into the English Church. The Church of\nEngland formerly gave Archbishop Leighton episcopal ordination,\nhe being a Scottish Presbyterian minister, and the Crown gave him\njurisdiction in Scotland over the Presbyterian clergy and\ncongregations, without requiring any reordination or any new\nprofession of faith. So now, a German Lutheran minister\nalternately with an English Episcopalian, is ordained for the\nJerusalem bishopric, with authority to receive under his care\nboth English and German ministers and congregations.\n\nNow for the inconsistency. The same reasons which prove the\nChurch of Rome to be a schismatical, heretical, and apostate\nChurch, prove that the English Church was the same before the\nReformation, and that the Church of Christ had perished in\nWestern Christendom, except as represented by the Lollards,\nAlbigenses, Waldenses, and other precursors of the Protestants.\nThere was really no true, visible Catholic Church existing, from\nwhich schismatics and heretics had separated, and to which they\ncould return. Hence, the modern Episcopal Church derived its\nauthority from no legitimate source in the past, and has really\nstarted _de novo_, like the Protestant Churches of Europe.\nThis throws us back upon the theory of an invisible Church at\nonce, and breaks up the idea of Catholicity.\n\n{47}\n\nFor the same reason, the Oriental Churches must be regarded as\nschismatical and heretical. The Nestorians and Eutychians are\ncondemned by the Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon, accepted by\nour Anglicans. The Greek Church is identical in doctrine with the\nRoman, except so far as the Papal supremacy is rejected by them.\nIt disowns and condemns the Anglican Church as emphatically as\ndoes the Roman. Nevertheless, we find a number of the Protestant\nbishops subscribing the following letter to the Patriarch of\nConstantinople:--\n\n  Letter To The Greek Patriarch.\n\n  Binghamton N. Y., 1_st April_, 1844.\n\n  _To the Editor of the True Catholic:_\n\n  Dear Sir:_-_Having seen in print a copy, surreptitiously\n  obtained, of the letter of our bishops, addressed to some of\n  the Patriarchs in the East, I have thought it might be well to\n  furnish an authentic copy, for permanent preservation in your\n  valuable periodical, especially as it is a document of much\n  importance. It is precisely as I myself, together with Mr.\n  Southgate, presented it, _accompanied by a Greek\n  translation_, to the Patriarch of Constantinople, who\n  received it very graciously.\n  Yours, very truly,\n  J. J. Robertson.\n\n  _To the Venerable and Right Reverend Father in_ GOD,\n  _the Patriarch, of the Greek Church,\n  resident at Constantinople_.\n\n  January 2, 1841.\n\n  The Episcopal Church of the United States of America, deriving\n  its Episcopal power in regular succession from the holy\n  Apostles, through the venerable Church of England, has long\n  contemplated, with great spiritual sorrow, the divided and\n  distracted condition of the Catholic Church of Christ\n  throughout the world. This sad condition of things not only\n  aids the cause of infidelity and irreligion, by furnishing\n  evil-minded men with plausible arguments, not only encourages\n  heresies and schisms in national branches of the Catholic\n  Church, but is also a very serious impediment to the diffusion\n  of Gospel truth among those who are still in the darkness of\n  heathenism, or are subject to other false religions, or\n  continue vainly to look for the coming of that Messiah, whose\n  advent has already blessed the world.\n\n{48}\n\n  The arrogant assumptions of universal supremacy and\n  infallibility, of the Papal head of the Latin Church, render\n  the prospect of speedy friendly intercourse with him dark and\n  discouraging. The Church in the United States of America,\n  therefore, looking to the Triune GOD for His blessings upon its\n  efforts for unity in the Body of Christ, turns with hope to the\n  Patriarch of Constantinople, the spiritual head of the ancient\n  and venerable Oriental Church.\n\n  In this Church we have long felt a sincere interest. We have\n  sympathized with her in the trials and persecution to which she\n  has been subjected; we have prayed for her deliverance from all\n  evils and mischiefs; and we have thanked her Divine HEAD that\n  He has been pleased, amid all her sufferings, to maintain her\n  allegiance to Him.\n\n  In order to attempt the commencement of a friendly and\n  Christian intercourse with the Oriental Church, the Church in\n  the United States resolved to send two of its Presbyters, the\n  Rev. J. J. Robertson, and the Rev. Horatio Southgate, to reside\n  at Constantinople. These clergymen are directed to make\n  inquiries regarding the existing state of the Church under the\n  jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople, and of the\n  other Eastern Churches; to ascertain the relations they bear to\n  each other, and the views they maintain in regard to the\n  Apostolic Churches of Europe and America; to answer such\n  inquiries as may be made of them in regard to the origin,\n  constitution, and condition of the Church in the United States;\n  and to do all in their power to conciliate the Christian love\n  and regard of the Oriental Church toward its younger sister in\n  the Western world.\n\n  After some preliminary inquiries and study of the language,\n  they will present themselves, with this epistle of introduction\n  (by which they are cordially recommended to the Christian\n  courtesies and kind offices of the bishops and clergy of the\n  Oriental Church), to the Patriarch of Constantinople, inviting\n  him to a friendly correspondence with the heads of the Church\n  in the United States, explaining more fully the views and\n  objects of the Church, and inquiring whether a mutual\n  recognition of each other can be effected, as members of the\n  Catholic Church of Christ, on the basis of the Holy Scriptures\n  and the first Councils, including the Apostles' and Nicene\n  Creeds, in order to a future efficient co-operation against\n  Paganism, false religion, and Judaism.\n\n  They will make it clearly understood that their Church has no\n  ecclesiastical connection with the followers of Luther and\n  Calvin, and takes no part in their plans or operations to\n  diffuse the principles of their sects. They will propose to the\n  Patriarch such aid as the Church in the United States can\n  supply, in the advancement of Christian education, and in the\n  promulgation of religious truth, always avoiding the points in\n  which the two Churches still differ, and leaving the producing\n  of a closer mutual conformity to the blessing of God, on the\n  friendly correspondence of the respective heads of the\n  Churches, or to a future General Council.\n\n{49}\n\n  Leaving a further development of these points to the oral\n  communications of its delegates, and again recommending them to\n  the Christian candor and affection of the Patriarch and clergy\n  of the Oriental Church, and repeating the hearty desire and\n  prayer of the bishops and clergy of the United States for their\n  prosperity, we remain your brethren in Christ.\n\n    Alexander Viets Griswold,\n    of the Eastern Diocese, and senior of the American Church.\n\n    Benjamin Tredwell Onderdonk, of New York.\n\n    George Washington Doane, of New Jersey.\n\n    Thomas Church Brownell, of Connecticut.\n\n    Jackson Kemper, of Missouri, &c.\n\n    William Rollinson Whittingham, of Maryland.\n\n    Henry Ustick Onderdonk, of Pennsylvania.\n\nAt the recent visit of a Russian squadron to New York, the\nProtestant Bishop of New York invited the chaplains of the\nsquadron to make use of one of his churches for the service of\nthe Greek Church, although the offer was declined. Subsequently,\nCossack priest, called Father Agapius, said to have letters from\nthe Archbishop of Athens, came to New York as a missionary to the\nGreeks and Russians, and was accommodated with the use of two\nEpiscopal churches. It came out subsequently that he was in bad\nstanding in the Russian Church, and the members of the Greek\nChurch in New York disowned him, when he threw off the mask, and\npublished a letter where he avowed doctrines far from orthodox\naccording to the standards of the Greek Church. Nevertheless, it\nwas ostensibly as a regular priest of that Church that he was\ninvited to make use of the Episcopal churches; as such the\nmembers of that church received him, and whatever changes or\nomissions he may have made in his public services, they were\nunderstood to be celebrated according to the Sclavonic and Greek\nLiturgies. Thus, there is no escaping from the fact, that High\nMass according to the same rite used by Oriental Catholics as\nwell as schismatics, was authorized in the Episcopal Church in\nNew York, a great number of the clergy assisting.\n\n{50}\n\nThe English Church bishops, beginning with the old English\nNonjurors, have been always anxious for the recognition of the\nGreek prelates, and have made several attempts to gain it.\n\nSoon after my ordination as deacon in the Episcopal Church, I was\ninvited by Bishop Southgate to accompany him to Constantinople on\na mission of this kind. The plan was to have a little\necclesiastical establishment in Constantinople, consisting of a\nbishop and a few priests and deacons. Although the bishop, who\nhad been for some years a travelling missionary in the East, was\nmarried, he wished his clergy to be unmarried men, and selected\nonly such as his associates. There was to be a chapel, where all\nthe rites and ceremonies permitted by Anglican law were to be\ncelebrated with as much pomp as possible. Sermons in the Oriental\nlanguages designed to attract the clergy and make a good\nimpression of our orthodoxy, were to be preached regularly. A\ncollege and seminary for the instruction of young Oriental\necclesiastics were to be opened, with a strict understanding that\nthey were not to be induced to leave their own communion.\nExtracts from the works of the Greek Fathers, and translations\nfrom Anglican divines, were to be published, with a view to bring\nabout mutual understanding and agreement between the different\nChurches. Every thing was to be done to propitiate the Oriental\nprelates and clergy, and to bring about their recognition of our\necclesiastical legitimacy, and intercommunion between themselves\nand us. The Missionary Committee, who were hostile to this plan,\nwould not confirm my appointment, regarding me as having too\nstrong a Catholic bias to be trusted. Another young deacon was\nselected in my place, who had been known as a strong Puseyite,\nbut who publicly renounced his opinions before he left the\ncountry, in a sermon, in which he came out as a strong\nEvangelical.\n{51}\nThe mission was never well supported, but after a few years, fell\nthrough entirely, and the bishop is now a parish rector in New\nYork. During a visit to New York, which I made in company with\nBishops Whittingham and Southgate, at the time I was expecting to\naccompany the latter on his mission, I called on a very\ndistinguished and learned presbyter, who was one of the ablest\nand most influential leaders of the Oxford movement. He asked me\nif we proposed to endeavor to change the doctrines of the Greek\nChurch. I replied, that certainly we did propose to discuss\nseveral of these doctrines with the Greek prelates, and show them\nthat they were not doctrines appertaining to the Catholic faith,\nbut errors and additions made without authority. He inquired what\nthese doctrines were. I cannot recollect how many I specified,\nbut I am sure that the doctrine respecting the cultus of the\nBlessed Virgin and saints was the principal one. He replied that\nthe doctrines I specified were established by just as good\nauthority as any others, and that it would be impossible for us\nto convict the Greek Church of holding any erroneous doctrine.\nHis arguments made a great impression on my mind at the time, and\nhelped me forward toward the Catholic Church, although this\ngentleman himself remained always a Protestant.\n\nThe efforts made to cultivate the friendship of the Greek Church\nare very significant. Let it be observed, that the bishops who\nsigned the letter to the Patriarch of Constantinople, both\ndistinctly repudiate the Reformation of Luther and Calvin, and\nconsent to waive all questions of difference between the Greek\nand the Protestant Episcopal Churches, until they can be decided\nby a _General Council_. This reduces the _gravamen_ of\nthe charges against Rome to the only point of difference which\nexists between herself and the Greek Church; that is, to the\nclaim of supremacy of the Roman Pontiff.\n{52}\nThis is, then, the sum and substance of the \"_defilements of\nthe Romish Communion_.\" Here lies the whole _casus belli_\nbetween the champions of Anglicanism and the Catholic Church.\nThere is no hope of reconciliation on equal terms with the See of\nRome and her vast communion. Therefore, a rival claim of\nCatholicity must be set up, and supported by every possible\ncharge that can be made to tell against the mighty Church whose\nBishop claims the dignity and authority of successor to the\nPrince of the Apostles. Hence the odious names of \"Roman Schism,\"\n\"Romanist,\" \"Romish,\" \"Tridentine Schism,\" \"Popery,\" \"Popish,\"\nand all the other party catch-words of corruption in doctrine,\nbondage, tyranny, idolatry, etc., which are studiously employed,\nin order to throw dust in the eyes of the simple and unwary.\nHence the effort to appropriate the name of Catholic, and to use\nall the phraseology associated with it, in connection with the\nProtestant Episcopal communion. Rome will not abate one jot or\ntittle of her divine rights, or of the Catholic doctrine of which\nshe is the principal bulwark; and she will not treat the Church\nof England as a branch of the Christian Church. Therefore a rival\nmust be set up against her, backed by the power and the prestige\nof the English name, and, if possible, also by those of the\nmighty Russian Empire and the ancient Eastern Church. The\nNonjurors proposed to the Eastern prelates sitting in the Synod\nof Bethlehem, a plan for combining against Rome under an\necclesiastical organization whose head should be the Patriarch of\nJerusalem. It was scornfully rejected, together with all their\nother overtures. No doubt, if the Church of England and the\nEpiscopal Church of the United States could make a combination\nwith the Greek Church, on the basis of the Oriental standards of\ndoctrine, it would be the most formidable rival possible to the\nCatholic Church. But such a union is impossible. The Providence\nof God does not permit heresy and schism to assume the attitude\nof Catholicity, but compels them to manifest their true character\nby disintegration.\n{53}\nAnd here lies another mark of the inconsistency of the theory of\nthose who set up this claim of rival Catholicity against Rome.\nThe Protestant Episcopal Churches, as such, do not sanction and\nassert in their public and official action the claim made for\nthem by a certain portion of their members. The utmost that can\nbe said of them is, that they affirm and exact episcopal\nordination as requisite to a complete conformity to the polity\nestablished by the Apostles. They do not, however, assert, or\nrequire their clergy to believe, the necessity of apostolic\nsuccession to the being of a Church. Their standards are so\nconstructed as to afford a shelter and a warrant to those who\nhold this and several other Catholic doctrines and principles.\nThese doctrines are not, however, officially put forward as a\nterm of communion, or a condition for ordination. The official\ndoctrine of a Church is limited to that which it exacts by\nauthority and under penalty of its teachers to hold and profess.\nIt comes down to the lowest level of doctrine, which its teachers\ncan hold, and still be reputed sound and orthodox clergymen. Now\na very low Protestantism is all that even High Church bishops can\nexact from candidates for the priesthood or the episcopacy.\n\"Anglo-Catholic\" doctrine is nothing but the tolerated opinion of\na certain party. Therefore, on these \"Anglo-Catholic\" principles,\nand according to the doctrine and decisions of the Greek Church,\nthe Protestant Episcopal Church is schismatical and heretical,\nbecause she enforces nothing by her authority beyond\nProtestantism, which is heresy according to that standard of\ndoctrine which was universally acknowledged before the\n\"separation of the East and West,\" and accepted both by Greeks\nand \"Anglo-Catholics.\" According to those principles, then, which\nwould condemn the Roman Church of heresy and schism, all\nEpiscopal Churches in the world have fallen away from the unity\nof faith established by our Lord, and the Catholic Church exists\nno more.\n{54}\nHence, even an \"Anglo-Catholic,\" if he would not be driven into\nthe arms of pure Protestantism, and consort with those followers\nof Luther and Calvin who are disowned by Bishop Griswold and his\nassociates, are forced to make common cause with Rome and her\nCatholic communion.\n\nThe progressive portion of those who were engaged in the Oxford\nmovement saw and felt all this, and, therefore, in a strict\nconsistency with their Catholic principles, and by a logical\nnecessity, they advanced in a Romeward direction. It has been\nnecessary to make this long explanation in order to show how\nmatters stood at the time when Mr. Baker and myself were\nconnected with the ecclesiastical movement in Baltimore, under\nBishop Whittingham. The Oxford movement was then ten years old.\nThe celebrated Ninetieth Tract, in which Mr. Newman took the\nground that several Roman dogmas were permitted by the\nThirty-nine Articles, and that the Articles were to be explained\naccording to the Catholic sense of the general body of the\nUniversal Church, had been some time published, and the\ncontroversy excited by it was nearly completed. Mr. Newman was\nabout resigning St. Mary's, and soon after went into retirement\nat Littlemore. A great number of the ablest writers of his party\nhad advanced very far beyond the position taken by the earlier\nOxford Tracts, and by Palmer, Percival, Keble, and others, at the\noutset. In the United States, the ordination of the Rev. Arthur\nCarey had taken place, under circumstances of the most peculiar\ncharacter, which deserve a passing notice.\n\nArthur Carey was a young student of the New York Theological\nSeminary, barely twenty years of age, of an English family, and\ndescended from several bishops of the English Church. He was a\nyouth of rare intellectual gifts and acquirements, as well as of\nthe most gentle and lovely character. Bishop Whittingham, who had\nbeen his preceptor, said that he possessed the wisdom of a man of\nfifty.\n{55}\nIn some way, the suspicions of a number of the principal Low\nChurch rectors had been excited in regard to him, and he was\nsubjected to a most rigorous examination for orders, in which he\nmanifested his profound theological science and his brilliant\nparts, together with a magnanimity of spirit which won for him a\nwide-spread admiration, especially among all High Church\nEpiscopalians. In the course of his examination, he avowed the\nmost advanced opinions of the Oxford party, and expressed his\nbelief in the sound orthodoxy of the decrees of the Council of\nTrent. He was violently attacked by some members of the examining\ncommittee, and defended by others, the majority finally\nrecommending him for ordination. Bishop Onderdonk determined to\nordain him, and was proceeding in the ceremony of ordination,\nwhen he was interrupted by two doctors of divinity in gowns, who\npublicly protested against the ordination, and then left the\nchurch. Bishop Whittingham urged him very strongly, after his\nordination, to come to his diocese, which he declined doing.\nAbout this time, I read, in manuscript, a beautiful philosophical\nessay on Transubstantiation, which he wrote, according to the\nsystem of Leibniz, proving the futility of all the rational\narguments urged against it. The circumstances of his ordination\nmade him suddenly famous. He was assistant minister to Dr.\nSeabury, at the Church of the Annunciation, and every Sunday his\nsermons were reported for the secular papers, with minute\naccounts of his appearance, and all his sayings and doings. This\npublicity was insufferable to him; and in a letter of his, which\nI saw, he said that it made life a burden to him. His\nconstitution was extremely delicate, and weakened by close\napplication to study. He was a boy in years, and unable to breast\nthe moral shock which he had received. He speedily sank into a\ndecline, and died at sea, off the Moro of Havana, whither he had\nbeen sent for the benefit of his health, his body being committed\nto the deep by his fellow-passengers, who were all strangers to\nhim, and one of whom read the Burial Service over his remains.\n{56}\nFor a long time afterward, his poor father might be seen every\nday standing on the Battery, and gazing wistfully out to sea,\nwith mournful thoughts, longing after the son whom he had lost.\nThere is something in the history of Arthur Carey assimilating it\nto that of Richard Hurrell Froude. Each of them, in his sphere,\ndid more than any other to arrest the anti-Roman tendency of the\nOxford movement, and give it a Romeward direction. In Mr. Carey's\ninstance, it was not the mere effect of his own personal avowal\nof holding Roman doctrine, but the protection given him in doing\nso by the bishop of the principal diocese, the directors of the\nGeneral Seminary, and a large number of other bishops and\nclergymen, which was significant. It was this which led to the\npersecution of Bishop Onderdonk; and it was believed that a plan\nwas on foot for similar attacks on the other bishops who were\nregarded as Puseyites.\n\nThe reader of these pages can now understand something of the\nnature of those stirring and exciting times in the ecclesiastical\nworld in which Mr. Baker began his career, and of the events and\nquestions about which we were daily conversing together. Bishop\nWhittingham approved of the principle of interpreting the\nArticles laid down in the Ninetieth Tract. On this principle, I\ngave my assent to them at my examination for orders, and could\nnot otherwise have assented to them with a safe conscience. The\nordination of Mr. Carey opened the way for us to go forward to\nthe full extent of holding all the doctrines of the Council of\nTrent. The current of Oxford thought and literature was sweeping\nus in that direction. We had full access to it, and felt its\npower, although, as I have said, we were a good deal behind the\nmovement, and ignorant of many things which were taking place in\nEngland. Mr. Baker was far in advance of me at the time our\nfriendship began. He never had that feeling of hostility to the\nRoman Church with which so many were filled.\n{57}\nHis early education, and the knowledge he had of Catholicity and\nof the Catholic clergy and laity in Baltimore, preserved him from\nthat strong prejudice which I retained from the impressions of\nchildhood, and which he aided me greatly to overcome. Neither of\nus ever looked on the Roman communion as heretical, schismatical,\nor essentially corrupt. We adopted, at first, the prevalent idea\nthat it was in a schismatical position in England, and in those\nparts of the United States where we supposed the Protestant\nEpiscopal Church had prior possession. We dropped this notion,\nhowever, after a while; and I remember well that it was a friend\nof ours, who was then and is now a minister of the Episcopal\nChurch, who drove it finally out of my head by solid and\nunanswerable arguments. We could not agree with the bishop and\nhis party in their anti-Roman sentiments, and disliked the\noffensive use of the terms \"Romish\" and \"Romanist.\" We regarded\nthe Catholic Church as composed of three great branches--the\nLatin, Greek, and Anglican--unhappily estranged from each other,\nand all more or less to blame for the separation. We did not\nbelieve in the supremacy of the Pope, in the full Catholic sense,\nas constituting the e essential principle of Catholic unity, or\nthat communion with the Holy See was necessary to the very being\nof a Church. We did, however, come to believe by degrees in a\ncertain Primacy, partly divine and partly ecclesiastical, as\nnecessary to order, and the means of preserving intercommunion\namong all bishops. What we regarded as errors in Roman doctrine,\nwe looked upon as much less fundamental than those Protestant\nerrors which pervaded so extensively our own Church; we\nconsidered them much in the same light with which Bishop Griswold\nand his brethren regarded the peculiar doctrines of the Greek\nChurch, as matters to be tolerated, until all branches of the\nChurch could meet in a general council and make a final decision\nupon all controversies. Considering the divided and anomalous\nstate of Christendom, we thought that both the Roman and Anglican\nbishops had an equally legitimate jurisdiction over their\ncongregations, and that we were alike Catholics, and in real\ncommunion with the Universal Church of all ages and nations.\n{58}\nWe thought it to be the duty of each one to remain in the\ncommunion where he had been baptized or ordained, and would have\ndissuaded any Episcopalian from joining the Roman communion, or\nany Roman Catholic from joining ours. I remember, one evening,\nafter hearing an account given with great glee by a young man of\nthe perversion of a Catholic, that Mr. Baker said, after the\nperson in question had gone, \"What a miserable story that was\nwhich M---- just related!\" In my own little parish, there was an\nIrish servant-girl, whom I married to a young Englishman, my\nparishioner. I had no scruple in doing this, not reflecting that\nI was the occasion of the girl committing a sin against her own\nconscience. But when her mistress expressed great hopes of her\ncoming over to our Church, and I began to think she might apply\nto me for confirmation, I carefully avoided encouraging the plan,\nand considered seriously what I ought to do if any such case\nshould arise. Very strangely and inconsistently, Bishop\nWhittingham used to confirm the occasional perverts that fell in\nhis way, although they had received Catholic confirmation. And\nthis increased my difficulty. For I regarded an act of that kind\nas a sacrilege, and could not have been a party to it in any\ncase, unless I had thought it right, according to my overstrained\nnotions of obedience, to throw the whole responsibility on the\nbishop. As I have often said, we never entertained the thought of\nleaving our own Church. The conversation of those who talked\ndoubtfully on this point was always most disagreeable to us both,\nalthough it was only in one or two instances that we fell in with\nany such persons.\n\nToward our own bishop we were strictly obedient. His violent\nantipathy to Rome and strong Anglican party spirit, joined with a\ntimid, politic course of action toward the Low Church,\nultra-Protestant party, prevented our giving him full and\nunreserved confidence.\n{59}\nMr. Baker had seldom the occasion of conversing much with him. I\nwas, however, constantly in his family, and very much in his\nsociety. I confided in him as a man of integrity, a sincere and\ngenerous friend, and a just and kind superior. But, from the\nfirst, there was a barrier which I had not expected to full and\nunreserved confidence, and a feeling that there was a secret and\nfundamental difference in our apprehension of the ideas which are\ncontained in the forms of Catholic language. I have since\ndiscovered what this difference was, and I see now that he really\nbelieved in an invisible, ideal Catholic Church only, and in no\nother outward, visible unity, except that which is completed in a\nsingle bishop and congregation. This explains a remark made at\nthat time by my father, who is thoroughly acquainted with the\nProtestant theology, on one of the bishop's essays; that, except\nhis doctrine of three orders in the ministry, he was a pure\nCongregationalist. Mr. Newman, also, held the same view, until\nquite a late period in his Anglican life, as appears from his\n\"Apologia.\" In Bishop Whittingham's own eyes, he was himself the\nequivalent of the whole Catholic episcopate. Consequently, what\nhe and his colleagues and predecessors in the Anglican Church had\ndecreed had full Catholic authority, and was just as final and\nauthoritative as if the whole world had taken part in it. Hence\nthe assertion of a despotic, exclusive authority of the Anglican\nChurch, concentrated in his person, over everyone who\nacknowledged his jurisdiction. He would not permit us to attend\nany Catholic services, or read any Catholic books, as an ordinary\nthing. I read the tract of Natalis Alexander on the Eucharist,\nand the Life of St. Francis of Sales, in his library, before he\nmade his prohibition. Afterward, he gave me himself a volume of\nTirinus's Commentary on the Holy Scriptures; and these were the\nonly Catholic books I read while I was in his family. I was very\nanxious to read M\u00f6hler's \"Symbolism,\" but I did not; nor did I\nread Ward's \"Ideal of a Christian Church;\" because he desired me\nnot to do so.\n{60}\nI even gave up using approved Anglican books of devotion in\nchurch, because he expressed his disapprobation of using any\nother book but the \"Common Prayer.\" Mr. Baker was equally\nobedient with myself at that time; although afterward, when he\nwas governed more by common-sense and a just sentiment of his own\nrights, he read whatever he thought proper. It was Anglican books\nwhich brought us onward toward the Catholic Church, and the\nattempt to live up to and carry out Anglo-Catholic principles.\nThose who are familiar with the Anglo-Catholic movement will\nunderstand at once what these principles and doctrines were. But\nfor the information of others it may be proper to state them\ndistinctly, as they were understood by Mr. Baker, and others like\nhim, who approximated more or less toward the Catholic Church,\nwhether they eventually joined her communion or not:\n\n  1. The visible unity of the Catholic Church.\n\n  2. The final authority of the Church in deciding doctrine,\n  and the authority of General Councils.\n\n  3. The necessity of an Apostolic Succession, and the divine\n  institution of the episcopate.\n\n  4. Baptismal Regeneration and Sacramental Grace.\n\n  5. The strictly sacerdotal character of the priesthood,\n  including the power of consecrating, and of absolution.\n\n  6. The Real Presence in the Eucharist.\n\n  7. The sacrificial character of the Eucharist.\n\n  8. The propriety of praying for the dead.\n\n  9. The merit of voluntary chastity, poverty, and obedience,\n  and of penitential works.\n\n  10. The value of ceremonies in religion, and the sanctity\n  of holy places and holy things.\n\n{61}\n\nHowever certain persons may modify and explain certain of these\ndoctrines, no one can deny that the general drift of the writings\nof the Oxford or Anglo-Catholic school, together with that of the\nwritings of the ancient Fathers and of the earlier English\ndivines which are translated or republished by them, was to\ncreate and strengthen a belief in these doctrines. They were\nallowed to be tenable without infidelity to the Anglican Church,\nby persons in authority and others, who were themselves lower and\nmore Protestant in their opinions. Now, I will take for a moment\nthe position of an Anglo-Catholic, and, upon the basis of the\nprinciples I have just enunciated, I will prove that an attitude\nof hostility to the Roman Church is wrong and absurd, and that\nthe only consistent and tenable ground is that now taken by the\nUnionists, represented by the _Union Review_.\n\n  \"The Latin, Greek, and Anglican branches of the Catholic Church\n  constitute but One Visible Church, though their unity is\n  impaired and in part interrupted by mutual estrangement. As a\n  member of the Anglican Church, I look upon the Greek Church as\n  essentially sound and orthodox, and, if allowed to do so, would\n  wish to receive the sacraments, or, if a clergyman, to\n  officiate as such, in the churches of that Rite, if I happened\n  to be in a place where it was established. I look upon the\n  Latin Church, whose doctrine is the same with that of the Greek\n  Church, with the single exception of the Papal Supremacy, in\n  precisely the same light. Whatever I may think of the extent of\n  power claimed by the Bishop of Rome, I must allow that, in a\n  state of perfect intercommunion between all parts of the\n  Church, the chief place in the Catholic hierarchy and the right\n  of presidency in a general council belong to him. It is most\n  desirable that the Greek and Anglican Churches should be\n  restored again to communion with the Roman Church, and all\n  controversies respecting doctrine be definitely settled.\n  Meanwhile, the spirit of charity ought to be cultivated, and\n  all possible means taken to remove prejudice and\n  misunderstanding. In the present state of confusion and\n  irregularity, the ancient canons respecting one bishop in a\n  city cannot be considered as binding; and therefore Roman,\n  Greek, and Anglican congregations, formed under the authority\n  of bishops who are in regular communion with their own branch,\n  are equally legitimate and Catholic, wherever they may be.\n{62}\n  The decisions of the particular national synods of the Anglican\n  branch have no final authority, and are only binding so far as\n  they declare the doctrines of the Universal Church. They are to\n  be interpreted in the 'Catholic sense,' and are strictly\n  obligatory only on those who have made a promise to maintain\n  them, and upon those only in the sense in which they are\n  imposed by authority, under censure. It is the Catholic Church,\n  and not the Church of England or the Protestant Episcopal\n  Church of the United States, of which I am a member by baptism,\n  and therefore I have no duties to either of those\n  ecclesiastical organizations, except such as arise out of their\n  relation to the great Catholic body, and are compatible with\n  the absolute allegiance I owe to its teaching and law's.\"\n\nSuch I conceive to be a statement of the only view an Anglican\ncan consistently take, unless he plants himself upon the common\nProtestant ground. According to this, it is ridiculous for him to\nabstain from going to Catholic services, reading Catholic books,\nand cultivating the acquaintance of Catholic clergymen and\nlay-people. The pretence of deposing or degrading clergymen,\nbecause they pass to the communion of Rome, is an absurd and\nimpotent attempt at retaliation. What sin can there be in going\nfrom St. Paul's Church, where the Mass is in English, celebrated\nby a priest of the Anglican Rite, under the obedience of the\nCatholic Bishop Whittingham, to the Cathedral, where the Mass is\nin Latin, celebrated by a priest of the Latin Rite, under the\nobedience of the Catholic Archbishop Spalding? How can there be\nthe guilt of apostasy involved in such an act? How can a person\n\"abjure the Catholic Communion\" at Rome, by joining that which is\nconfessedly the principal branch of the Catholic Church?\n\n{63}\n\nA person who believes in this theory of branches may say it is\ninexpedient and unwise for individuals to leave their particular\nconnection, that it perpetuates the estrangement, and that it is\nbetter to wait for the time when the \"English Branch\" will be\nreunited bodily to the parent tree. They cannot pretend, however,\nthat this is any thing more than a matter of private opinion. The\nonly legitimate means they have for keeping their adherents from\nleaving them are argument and persuasion. It avails nothing to\nsay that if free access to Roman Catholic services and books,\nand, in general, free intercourse with us is permitted, and the\ncharge of schism, violation of baptismal or ordination\nobligations, &c., is abandoned, we shall gain over a great number\nof their members. What of that? Those who adopt a theory are\nbound to adhere to it. If this Anglo-Catholic theory has any\nthing in it, it ought to be able to sustain the shock of a\ncollision. We have nothing but argument and persuasion on our\nside. Why should their influence be dreaded? If Catholic\nprinciples, sympathies, and practices gravitate toward Rome, let\nthem gravitate; it is a sign that the centre of gravity is there.\nThat the Oxford movement did gravitate toward Rome by its\noriginal force is a plain fact, proved by the number, the\ncharacter, and the acts of those who have become converts to the\nCatholic Church. Not that their testimony is a direct proof that\nthe Catholic Church is divine and infallible. This rests on\nextrinsic, objective evidence. But it is a direct proof that the\npretence of the Catholicity of the Anglican communion cannot\nfurnish full and complete satisfaction to conscientious minds\nthat have imbibed Catholic principles. It professed to do so; but\nit has failed. Those who still cling to it cannot deny that the\ndissemination of their views generally produces in those who\nembrace them, at some period of their mental history, a deep\nmisgiving respecting the safety of their position. This is not so\nin the Catholic Church. Catholics, who retain a firm faith in the\nprinciples of Catholicity, and endeavor to obey their\nconsciences, never have a misgiving that they are out of the\nChurch, or that there is any other church which has a better\nclaim to be regarded as the Catholic Church.\n{64}\nIf human reason has any certitude, if the human mind is governed\nby any fixed laws, if the concurrent judgments and convictions of\ngreat numbers of the wisest and best men have any value, if there\nis any such thing as logic, these considerations ought to have\nweight.\n\nBut I am weary of chasing this Protean phantom of\nAnglo-Catholicism through its shifting disguises, and its\nlabyrinthine mazes. And I gladly return to the theme of my\nnarrative.\n\nFrancis Baker was ordained deacon on the 16th of February, 1845,\nand in the following August was appointed assistant minister of\nSt. Paul's Church. During the interval he was performing\noccasional duty in assisting the rectors of different parishes in\nBaltimore, under the bishop's direction. His first sermon was\npreached in St. Paul's Church, Baltimore, on the Sunday afternoon\nof his ordination day, which was the Second Sunday of Lent. On\nthe evening of the same day he preached at St. Peter's. His text\nwas taken from the I. Epist. John, iv. 4: \"_And this is the\nvictory that overcometh the world, even our faith_.\" It was a\nbeautiful sermon, and perfectly Catholic in its doctrine and\ntone. I regret that it is not extant, for I think that if it\nwere, it would be worthy of a place among the sermons published\nin this volume. In it he extolled a life of virginity in glowing\nlanguage, as the means of a closer union with Christ; and its\nwhole scope was to present the lives of those who have renounced\nthe world, as models of the highest Christian perfection. I read\nprayers for him that evening, and we walked home afterward\ntogether. We separated in silence, neither of us expressing his\nthoughts, but both seeming to feel a kind of blank and unwilling\nsense of disappointment, as if dimly conscious that our\nCatholicity was an unreal and imaginary thing. At St. Paul's\nChurch his eloquence took the congregation completely by\nsurprise.\n{65}\nHis quiet, unassuming character had not prepared even his friends\nto expect that he would manifest so much power as a preacher.\nFrom this time his reputation was fixed at the highest point, and\nhe always sustained it. There were several very excellent\npreachers in the Maryland Diocese, but I believe it was generally\nadmitted that Mr. Baker surpassed them all, and the most\nintellectual and cultivated people ever looked upon his sermons\nas affording to their minds and hearts one of the choicest\nbanquets they were capable of enjoying. I have never known a\nyoung clergyman to be more generally and warmly admired and loved\nthan Mr. Baker. Nevertheless, applause and popularity did not\naffect him in the least, and the pure mirror of his soul was\nnever tarnished by vanity and self-complacency. Even then, his\nspontaneous desires and longings seemed to forecast the apostolic\nvocation which was in store for him. He had an ardent desire for\na religious life, and was especially attracted by the character\nand life of Nicholas Ferrar, and by the history of the little\nreligious community which he formed at Little-Gidding. In our\nwalks we often conversed about the practicability of establishing\na religious house which would give us the opportunity of working\namong the neglected masses of the people, and looked about for\nsome suitable building for this purpose. There was a scheme\ntalked of for establishing a monastic and missionary institute on\nthe eastern shore of Maryland, and there were eight or ten\nclergymen who would have been eager to join in the enterprise if\nthe bishop had been courageous enough to begin it. But the fear\nof Low Churchmen prevailed, and nothing was ever done. We very\nsoon found that the work of \"Catholicizing\" the Episcopal Church\nin Maryland got on very slowly and miserably, through the open\nopposition of the Low Church party, and the dead, inert\nresistance of the old High Church.\n{66}\nAt an early period of Bishop Whittingham's administration, the\nRev. Henry V. D. Johns, rector of Christ Church, bade him open\ndefiance, and preserved that attitude until his death, many years\nafterward. The bishop preached and published two remarkably\nlearned and able sermons on the priesthood, one of which was\npreached at the institution of Mr. Johns. At the close of it he\nexhorted the parishioners to receive their new rector as their\ndivinely-appointed teacher, and to submit to his instructions\nwith docility. The same night, Mr. Johns preached a sermon which\ncontained a violent attack on the bishop's doctrine, and made a\nsolemn declaration, sanctioned by an appeal to Heaven, that he\nwould evermore oppose that doctrine, and preach the contrary in\nhis pulpit. This was the signal for hostilities, and a sharp\ncontroversy arose out of the affair, which was renewed from time\nto time, as occasion offered. The bishop made one or two more\nefforts to bring out his Reformed Catholicism in sermons or\ncharges, and then desisted, seeming to be more anxious to defend\nhimself against the charge of Popery than to attack\nProtestantism. In regard to the outward ceremonial of religion,\nthe efforts made to improve it were equally feeble and abortive.\nThere was a miserable little church in an obscure street, called\nSt. Stephen's, with an altar something like a marble-topped\nwash-stand, and some curtains covered with roughly-executed\nsymbols, such as mitres, chalices, keys, etc., where we played a\nlittle at Catholics with so much success that a good old lady\nsaid it was worse than the Cathedral. The opposition which was\nexcited by these innocent and absurd little ecclesiological\nessays were such that the parish was nearly ruined, and the\nrector in great alarm speedily banished all innovations, and\nbrought his chancel and his windows back to the old-fashioned\nstyle. There was a little preaching in the surplice, a little\ndisplay of crosses, and a great deal of Catholic talk in private\ncircles, and very little else. The attempt to make the Protestant\nEpiscopal Church in Maryland exhibit herself as the Reformed\nCatholic Church was a most signal failure.\n{67}\nThe _True Catholic_ labored faithfully to defend Mr. Newman\nfrom the charge of Romanizing until he actually joined the\nCatholic Church, and then took to decrying him and other converts\nas much as possible. It then took up Archdeacon Manning, H. W.\nWilberforce, and Marshall, loading its pages with extracts from\ntheir writings, until all these gentlemen followed Mr. Newman's\nexample. What it did afterward, and whether it has survived until\nthe present time or not, I do not know. The cassocks were\nsilently and gradually dropped. Some of the young clergymen\nmarried, and took to walking sedately in the old paths, and\nothers left the diocese. The few who could not unlearn or forget\nthe Catholic principles they had imbibed, retired into themselves\nand kept quiet. And thus matters went back to their old condition\nof a sort of uneasy compromise between High and Low Church, on\nthe basis of a common hostility to Rome.\n\nI remember well the startling effect produced by the news of Mr.\nNewman's conversion. Whatever his modesty may induce him to say\nin disclaimer, he was the leader, the life, and the soul, of the\nOxford movement: his genius and character had acquired for him in\nthis country, as well as in England, a sway over a multitude of\nminds such as is seldom possessed by any living man. The news of\nhis conversion was brought to Baltimore by Bishop Reynolds, of\nCharleston, who had just arrived from Europe. I heard it from\nBishop Whittingham, one evening, after I had been to prayers in\nSt. Paul's. I passed him on the steps and went out, and heard him\nsay in a sorrowful tone, \"Newman has gone.\" It went to my heart\nas if I had heard of my father's death. I did not wish to speak\nwith anyone on the subject, for, although I was not prepared to\nfollow him, yet I could not speak harshly or lightly of the\ndecision of a man whose wisdom and goodness I venerated so\nhighly, or endure to hear the comments of others.\n{68}\nMr. Baker and I had no opportunity to converse together very much\non this matter, or indeed on any other. Our separation was at\nhand, under circumstances painful and trying to both. He was\nconfined to the chamber of his brother Alfred, who was\ndangerously ill with the varioloid, and, of course, could neither\nmake or receive any visits. I was obliged to leave Baltimore a\nfew days after, for North Carolina, by the order of my physician.\nI took a hurried farewell of Mr. Baker, at the door of his house,\nwith very little expectation, on either side, of ever meeting\nagain. He had assisted me very frequently in the duties of my\nlittle parish in the suburbs, during several months of declining\nhealth, and after my departure he continued to visit the\ncongregation and preach for them occasionally. It was during the\nautumn of 1845 that I left Baltimore. At the close of the Holy\nWeek of 1846 I was received into the Catholic Church, at\nCharleston, S. C., and in March, 1847, I was ordained priest by\nthe Right Rev. Dr. Reynolds, the bishop of the diocese.\n\nBefore leaving Edenton, N. C., where I resided during the\nprevious winter, I wrote to Mr. Baker to inform him of my\nintention, and I continued to write to him occasionally,\nreceiving letters from him in return, for some months afterward.\nThe correspondence on his part soon became constrained and\nformal, and at last was stopped at his request. For the three\nyears, immediately following my ordination, I saw or heard\nnothing of him. I continued to hope for his conversion, and often\noffered up the Holy Sacrifice for that intention. By degrees,\nhowever, the thought of him passed away from my mind, and I\nceased to anticipate that the broken thread of our friendship\nwould ever be re-united. I supposed that he had become\npermanently settled at some halting-place between Protestantism\nand the Catholic Church, and would live and die contentedly in\nhis chosen position as an Episcopalian clergyman, forgetting his\nearlier and nobler aspirations as among the dreams of youth.\n{69}\nFor the history of his mind during this period, I am indebted to\nthe letters which he continued to write to the bosom friend who\nhas been already spoken of, and the information which that friend\nhas given me personally. I am also indebted to the same source,\nchiefly, for the history of his progress toward Catholicity,\nduring the entire period of seven years which elapsed before his\nreception into the Catholic Church. For, although I saw him\nrepeatedly during the last three years of this period, he was\nextremely guarded and reserved in his language; and during our\ncommon life together, as Catholics, afterward, I never asked him\nfor any detailed account--the subject having, in great measure,\nlost its interest for us both.\n\nI have reason to believe that at the time of my conversion he had\nhis misgivings, and indeed his first letters to me showed a\ndisposition on his part to enter into a free discussion of the\nmatter with me. He soon quieted these misgivings, however, and\ndetermined to throw himself heart and soul into the work of\nrealizing Catholicity in his own Church. He even underwent a\nreaction which awoke a feeling of hostility to the Roman Church,\nand of anger against me, for having, as he expressed it, \"spoiled\ntheir plans.\" His good and true friend of past days, who had\ncontinually encouraged and urged him on from the first to follow\nboldly in the footsteps of those who led the advance of the\nOxford movement, would not, however, permit him to rest in this\nstate. He was determined himself not to shut his eyes to the\ndifficulties and perplexities of his position, and he would not\nallow his friend to do it. He never ceased to unbosom freely all\nhis own doubts and disquietudes, to communicate the results of\nhis continual reading and reflection, and to stimulate his friend\nto push on in the study of Catholic principles and doctrines\nuntil he had reached a final and satisfactory result. Judging\nfrom the letters of Mr. Baker which I have before me, I should\nthink that both his misgivings about his own position and his\nbitter feelings toward the Roman Church gave place to a quiet\nresolution of adhering to the position he had taken, before Mr.\nNewman's conversion and that of others of lesser note had\nstartled his repose.\n{70}\nFor two or three years his letters do not indicate a disquieted\nmind, but are often full of hope for the prospects of the\nAnglican communion. By degrees a change is manifest, and it is\neasy to see the progress of a conviction slowly forcing itself\nupon him that the Episcopal Church is essentially Protestant, and\nall the efforts made to place her in a Catholic light and\nattitude a mere illusion. The workings of a mind and heart\nstruggling with doubt and disquiet, weary of a hollow and unreal\nsystem, weaned from all worldly hopes, detaching itself from all\nearthly ties, and striving after the truth and after God, become\nmore and more manifest, until at last, after seven long years,\nthe result is reached. I have hesitated much before determining\nto insert a portion of these letters in this narrative. Certain\nmotives of delicacy toward my departed friend and others would\nincline me to withhold them. But their perusal has seemed to me\nto exhibit so much more clearly than any narrative of mine could\ndo, the transparent purity of the heart from which they emanated,\nand the wonderful workings of divine grace upon it, that I have\njudged it best to prefer the profit of those who will read this\nbook to private feeling. Some of them, which are merely\ndescriptive, I have inserted, because there could be no reason\nfor withholding them, and they will give pleasure to the friends\nof the writer, who value every thing which came from his pen. In\nregard to others, which were private and confidential, I have\nused the utmost caution to select only those portions which are\nnecessary to a full exhibition of the writer's gradual progress\nto the Catholic Church.\n\nI will first quote some extracts from the correspondence of an\nearlier period, which show the first blossoms of the later\nripened fruit of Catholic faith and holiness in the pure and\nupright soul of Francis Baker.\n\n{71}\n\n\n  From Francis A. Baker To Dwight E. Lyman.\n\n  \"Baltimore, _February_ 20, 1843.\n\n  \"My Dear Dwight:\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"Of course you have seen the letter 'Quare Impedit.' Is it not\n  very caustic? I cannot but think it defective in the\n  non-expression of what the writer doubtless believed, the sense\n  in which the Council of Trent's words as to 'immolation' are\n  true. It does not sufficiently bring out the true and\n  unfigurative sense in which the sacrifice on the altar is the\n  same with the sacrifice on the cross.\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"As I go on with my studies, my dear Dwight, I become more and\n  more attracted to them, and, I hope, more and more of a\n  Catholic. Indeed, I seem to myself to live in a different world\n  from that around me, and to be _practical_ I find one of\n  the most difficult attainments. But to be frank with you, in\n  looking forward to the future, the situation of a parish priest\n  seldom fills my mind. I almost always look to the monastic life\n  in some of its modifications. It is true that on the score of\n  fitness I have no right to look forward to such privileges; but\n  from some circumstances which you will appreciate, my heart has\n  been drawn more entirely from the world than most persons of my\n  age. But the future belongs to God, and I must now prepare\n  myself for the duties which seem pointed out to me. I have not\n  spoken to anyone else of this long-cherished desire, and,\n  indeed, there are at present insurmountable difficulties in the\n  way; but I do not look upon it is as so visionary a scheme as I\n  once did.\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"Your brother told me of his intended repairs in his church. I\n  am delighted to hear it. It will not be long, I hope, before\n  such is the universal arrangement of our churches. Only one\n  thing will be lacking (if he has a cross), the candlesticks. I\n  have come to the conclusion that we have a perfect right to\n  them, for they will come in by the Church common-law, as the\n  surplice did.\n{72}\n  I do not suppose it would be proper for a priest to introduce\n  them without his ordinary's sanction. I do wish a charge would\n  come out recommending the Catholic usages. I don't give any\n  weight to the cry of some about us, to wait for such things\n  until Catholic doctrines are received. I cannot but think that\n  such things would have a reflex influence on doctrine. While we\n  are externally so identified with the Protestants, it will be\n  hard to convince the world that we have any claims to antiquity\n  or Catholicity. Pray use your influence to have a solid altar,\n  and as large as may be.\"\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"Baltimore, _June_ 9, 1843.\n  \"It was a great disappointment to me not seeing you here at the\n  Convention, and there has been going on here so much of\n  interest to you. The Roman Council you have heard all about, I\n  am sure. I was not present, of course, at any of their services\n  or meetings, nor did I see any of their processions, but from\n  all I have heard, and from what I have seen at other times, I\n  think it must have been a most glorious spectacle. I do not\n  think I am fond of pageantry, but it must have been\n  heart-stirring to see the Church coming out of the sanctuary\n  which she has in her own bosom, and going forth to take\n  possession of the world in the name of her ascended Lord.\n  Imagine a band of sixteen venerable bishops, with surpliced\n  acolytes and vested priests, with their lights and cross and\n  crosier, all chanting in murmuring responses some old\n  processional chant; the effect of the whole heightened by the\n  brightness of a May sun reflected from many a golden stole and\n  glittering mitre! I am sure the sight would have set you crazy.\n  Indeed, I feared myself that it would present an unfortunate\n  contrast with our neat, dress-coat clergy. But our own\n  Convention had far more of an ecclesiastical appearance this\n  year than it ever had before.\n{73}\n  The daily matins at six o'clock, the Litany at nine, and the\n  full Mass service at twelve, all seemed as if we were suddenly\n  transplanted into some other age of the church, when she\n  understood and realized her heavenly mission better than in\n  these later days. Every day after the reading of the Gospel,\n  all joined in a solemn profession of the old Nicene faith; then\n  the Holy Sacrifice was offered, and all were allowed to partake\n  of the Holy Mysteries.\"\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"Baltimore, _June_ 9, 1845. \"When the ordination is\n  appointed, if possible, I will let you know; and if you are\n  disposed to treat me better than I did you, I should be truly\n  glad to see you here on that occasion. At all events, my dear\n  Dwight, do not forget to pray for me. I regret exceedingly that\n  the advantage of the regular Ember season will be lost to me,\n  for I feel in need of all the assistance which the united\n  prayers of the Holy Church might be expected to procure. As\n  soon after my ordination as may be, I wish to go to work in\n  such a department as may be assigned me by the will of God and\n  the direction of the bishop. I wish not 'to choose my way,' but\n  as far as possible to submit to the direction of others, my\n  superiors; for that I believe to be the very secret of\n  ministerial influence. In my case, however, there can hardly be\n  any trial of virtue in this course, for with such a bishop as\n  God has placed over us, submission is no sacrifice. I have\n  deliberately resolved to maintain a single life, and acquainted\n  the bishop with my determination. I think he approved of my\n  resolution, though he dissuaded me from taking a vow to that\n  effect. Although I acquiesced in his advice, yet I shall\n  consider myself from the date of my ordination pledged to\n  preserve that state, by the grace of God. All this is strictly\n  between ourselves, for I abhor to _talk_ about such\n  things. I consider this a matter, in our Church at least, of\n  strictly individual choice, and while I have no hesitation\n  myself in adopting the course I have mentioned, I should\n  despise myself and think but poorly of my own motives, if I\n  should ever think less of another for exercising differently\n  his Christian liberty.\"\n\n  * * * * *\n\n{74}\n\nThe foregoing extracts are taken from letters written before the\ntime of my leaving Baltimore, and of course, therefore, before\nthe thought of joining the Catholic Church had entered any of our\nminds. Those which follow were written at various times during\nthe period of seven years, between 1846 and 1853, which was the\nperiod of transition in Mr. Baker's mind, ending in his\nconversion.\n\n  \"Baltimore, _July_ 9, 1846.\n  \"Every thing has been remarkably quiet in Baltimore for the\n  last month. There seems to be nothing of the excitement that\n  for a while prevailed on the subject of 'Roman tendencies' and\n  'perversions.' I know not whether the 'Few Thoughts' of Mr. H.,\n  which is just published here, and which I suppose you have\n  seen, will awaken controversy; but should suppose not, from the\n  occasion and nature of the publication, it being merely an\n  explanation of his own course, and written immediately on the\n  determination to take that course. I have heard the pamphlet\n  spoken of as 'a weak production,' as 'doing Mr. H. no credit.'\n  Are we not too apt to speak so of the work of an opponent? Of\n  course the essay is not a learned and systematic argument, nor\n  does it profess to be so; but it is (as it appears to me)\n  honest, to the point, and well expressed. I speak this of the\n  production: as an argument, it of course resolves into the\n  great Roman plea of _Visible Unity_.\n\n  \"I understand that a Mr. ----, a presbyter of our Church, and\n  alumnus of the General Theological Seminary, made his public\n  abjuration of Protestantism in St. Mary's Chapel, on Sunday\n  last. I suppose you have seen the account of ----'s defection.\n  I was told, a few days ago, that ---- has made up his mind to\n  'go;' but as it was a Roman Catholic who told me, I did not\n  know but he might be misled.\n{75}\n  Do you know any thing about it? I received, a few days ago, a\n  letter from H. It was merely a friendly letter, without\n  controversy, describing his mode of life, written very\n  cheerfully and kindly. It will give me pleasure to show it to\n  you when you come to Baltimore to see me, to which visit I look\n  forward with great pleasure. We will then talk about all these\n  strange events and times, and on our thoughts and feelings\n  concerning them. Adieu, adieu, my dear friend. Let us keep\n  close to each other; but first, close to God, and in all things\n  obedient to His will. Again adieu, my dear, good friend.\"\n\n\n\nIt is easy for one who knew intimately the writer of this letter\nto see that his heart was sad and disquieted when he wrote it,\nalthough he does not directly say so; especially from the unusual\nwarmth and tenderness of his expressions of attachment to his\nfriend. About two months after he wrote it, the time came for him\nto pass his examination for priest's orders. The circumstances\nunder which his examination took place redoubled this disquiet,\nand caused him to hesitate much about receiving ordination. In\nthe course of his examination, he was asked if he accepted the\nThirty-nine Articles. It appears that he was not able to accept\nthe reasoning of Tract No. 90, upon which he must have gone at\nhis ordination to the diaconate, and accordingly he replied\nboldly that he rejected some of the Articles, and could not in\nany way give his assent to them. I do not know how many of them\nhe qualified in this way; but I know that one of them was the\nthirty-first, as to its second section: \"Wherefore, the\nSacrifices of Masses, in the which it was commonly said that the\npriest did offer Christ for the quick and the dead, to have\nremission of pain and guilt, were blasphemous fables and\ndangerous deceits;\" and I think, that, another was the\ntwenty-second: \"Of Purgatory,\" etc.\n{76}\nA discussion arose among his examiners upon the propriety of\npassing him. The bishop endeavored to waive the whole question,\nand succeeded in preventing his rejection. The rector of St.\nPeter's, who was the chairman of the committee, and whose duty it\nwas to present the candidates, declined, however, to present Mr.\nBaker, though, with a singular inconsistency, he privately urged\nhim to be ordained. Mr. Baker almost resolved to stop where he\nwas, and regretted afterward that he had not done so. He suffered\nhimself, however, to be overruled by the authority and persuasion\nof the bishop, and as Dr. Wyatt also excused himself from taking\nthe responsibility of presenting him, he was presented by another\npresbyter, and ordained on the 20th of September, 1846. His\nhealth as well as his spirits were impaired by these troubles;\nand, therefore, a short time afterward he made a trip to the\nNorth, in order to recreate both body and mind, and with the hope\nof driving away, by change of scene, the unpleasant thoughts\nwhich haunted him. In this he was in a measure successful. He\nappears to have made a resolute determination to throw himself\ninto his ministry, and to put away all doubt from his mind. He\nwent in search of all that was attractive and encouraging in his\nown communion, and his letter, giving an account of his trip,\nshows that his attachment to it was deepened and renewed by the\nimpression made on him by the beautiful churches, the tasteful\nand decorous services, and the agreeable, intellectual men of\ncongenial spirit with himself, described by him in such a\npleasing style. It was after this journey that he wrote to me,\nexpressing a firm determination to adhere to his chosen position,\nassigning for his chief reason the \"signs of life\" which he saw\nin the Episcopal Church; and he soon after, as I have said,\ndropped his correspondence with me, as one separated from him by\na barrier which was never to be passed over.\n\n{77}\n\n  \"Baltimore, _November_ 10, 1846.\n  \"I enjoyed my visit to the North quite as much as your or my\n  own expectations promised. I think the jaunt was in every way\n  beneficial to me. I spent a week delightfully in New York,\n  where a new world, as it were, of churches was opened to me,\n  and had a most happy (what I call) _heart_ visit to Troy.\n  But you will expect to hear particulars. To commence with the\n  commencement, then, what shall I say of Trinity Church? In some\n  respects it is far beyond my conceptions. The first impression\n  was really overpowering. It was on Saturday morning, and but\n  for a few minutes, and it seemed to me that both externally and\n  internally the building was most majestic and beautiful. I next\n  saw it on Sunday morning, to great advantage. It was communion\n  day, and fourteen priests in their surplices were in attendance\n  (the Convention having adjourned late the night before). The\n  church was full, but very orderly--the music grave and\n  fine--though I confess to you (pardon my ignorance and\n  temerity) it was not exactly as I should have liked. It seemed\n  to me to want _impressiveness_ or _expression_. It\n  was neither soothing, nor, _to me_, very grand. Dr. ----\n  preached. I never saw the Holy Communion celebrated and\n  _administered_ in any church with so fine effect. The\n  scene, when the choir was filled with the worshippers waiting\n  for their turn to receive, was truly majestic. On that day I\n  went away with a most agreeable impression. After I had been\n  there, how ever, in the week, and especially as I became\n  familiar with it, I was very conscious of the great defect and\n  coldness of the chancel. The meanness of the altar is\n  positively too bad; and the _unmeaningness_ of the heavy\n  altar-screen is curious. The window is not just up my taste;\n  but I do not think so badly of it as some do. On the whole, I\n  think there can be no doubt that the chancel is a failure; but\n  the nave is very fine, and the doorway, the organ-gallery, the\n  organ, the tower, and the side-porches most beautiful.\n{78}\n  On the afternoon of the Sunday, I went to Grace Church,\n  listened to the music---exquisite _of its kind_--saw the\n  images!!! looked at the church, and examined the stained\n  windows. I cannot agree with you about this building. Certainly\n  it has some beauties. The external appearance is very fine, and\n  the single figure of our Blessed Lord, in the east window,\n  beautiful; but I must say that the whole of the interior\n  presented to me a look of _finery_, and an absence of\n  solemnity, most unpleasant in the sanctuary. The windows were\n  simply distressing. It will seem very Protestant after this to\n  say it, but still it is true, that the church looked very like\n  a Roman Catholic Church to me; perhaps it would be truer to say\n  _Romish_, for it seemed to me in keeping with some things\n  we call by this name. I was disappointed in Grace Church; for I\n  went prepared to like it, from your representation, and from my\n  confidence in your taste.\n\n  \"Next in order of my seeing, but really, perhaps, first of all,\n  is the Church of the Holy Communion. This is really a gem. I\n  was there at evening prayer on a week-day, and I left with a\n  grateful heart that it was granted me to worship there. I am\n  not much of an architect, but the building seemed to me\n  _perfect_. I at least had no fault to find with it. The\n  services were read at the chancel rail. The canticles were\n  chanted with the organ accompaniment. It was at once solemn and\n  very beautiful. I said I had no fault to find. Perhaps that is\n  too much. I do think there is an absence of warmth in the\n  colors of the church, and of a certain grace and brightness\n  about the chancel, which would be entirely obviated by\n  substituting, instead of the present altar, a white or colored\n  marble one of the same size, adorned with candlesticks and\n  covered with a lace cloth. This, however, is to make it a\n  _perfect_ church for my eye, and I am not at all sure that\n  I am right.\n\n{79}\n\n  \"I said Troy was the most agreeable place I had visited. You\n  will not need to be told what it was which gave it this\n  interest: the Church of the Holy Cross. Oh, how glorious that\n  enterprise is! How perfectly devotional and elevating those\n  services! I was made very, very happy by this visit. It seemed\n  unearthly, and it seemed, too, a promise of better and holier\n  days, a harbinger of returning glory to our depressed Church.\n  Could you not introduce this service into the college. It is\n  worth a very great effort. Nothing else can produce such an\n  effect as the choral service. With the material you have, I\n  should not think it would be impossible, and at nothing short\n  of this ought you to stop. I formed a valuable acquaintance\n  with, and had the pleasure of visiting all the clergy of the\n  place, who are remarkably united, and who received me with\n  Southern warmth and cordiality. I was at the Church of the Holy\n  Cross as often as it was possible for me to be there, you may\n  be sure, and left it at the last with real regret. I consider\n  this visit alone fully repaid me for the journey.\"\n\n  * * * * *\n\nFrom this time there is not a trace of disquietude with his\nposition to be observed in his correspondence, until 1849. Under\ndate of February, 1847, he writes to his friend, who, as it\nappears from his own declarations, was the only intimate friend\nhe had among his brother clergymen:\n\n  \"I still write now and then to H., but there is such a\n  restriction on the freedom of thought and expression in\n  speaking to him, that I have but very little interest in the\n  correspondence; indeed I think it hardly likely long to\n  continue; but from you there is no need or wish on my part to\n  conceal any thing.\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  I _long_ to leave St. Paul's. I do not say this to anyone\n  here, for nothing is gained of talking; but to you I say that I\n  am obliged constantly to fall back on the reflection that,\n  until some other way is opened, my duty lies here. It is not on\n  account of any disagreeables in my position; but there are\n  peculiar dangers and difficulties attending it, and I cannot\n  help fearing constantly that my life is too easy and too soft\n  to please God.\n{80}\n  Still I see not which way to move. I think I wish to submit\n  myself entirely to the Divine Will. I hope it will not seem\n  impertinent, dear Dwight, to express a hope that this coming\n  Lent may be a season of strict discipline to us both. Oh, I\n  need it! I cannot tell you how the sense of responsibility\n  concerning the souls of others sometimes alarms me. I can say\n  this to you, without hypocrisy, I trust. I need to be purged by\n  penance very, very much, to be drawn away from pride and\n  vain-glory, and slothfulness and self-will; these are my\n  besetting sins; and to be stirred up to diligent study, to\n  obedience, to humility, to labor, and to prayer. I pray that I\n  may have the grace to fulfil the work which God has put in my\n  heart to undertake this Lent, that He would draw me away from\n  all things else, entirely to be united to Him. It would be a\n  most pleasant thought that we were thus entering on this\n  penitential season together.\"\n\nThe following extract from a letter of June 23, 1848, shows the\ninterest which the writer still felt in Mr. Newman:--\n\n  \"Is it not encouraging to see the stir that has been raised in\n  England about Dr. Hampden's nomination? The secular papers all\n  call the opposition a 'Tractarian Movement.' If they mean by\n  this that none but Tractarians are engaged in it, it is\n  palpably false; but in another sense it is certainly true. I\n  see clearly in the whole matter the fruits of that movement,\n  the greater earnestness and zeal for orthodoxy, _as such_,\n  so different from what would have been exhibited a quarter of a\n  century ago. And whom are we to thank for fixing the brand of\n  heterodoxy upon this man; so that he cannot pass off his\n  sophisms upon an unwary Church, but the great master to worn we\n  once looked up, to whom God gave so clear a vision of the truth\n  and so great a zeal to uphold it? This is the fruit of a seed\n  sown by a hand now raised up against us, one of the many gifts\n  by which we keep him and his great faculties in remembrance,\n  though, alas! 'we now see him no more.'\"\n\n{81}\n\nIn one of these letters Mr. Baker speaks of his desire to leave\nSt. Paul's Church for some other field of labor. Nevertheless, he\nremained there six years out of the eight years of his Protestant\nministry. In 1848 he received an invitation to the Church of St.\nJames the Less, a very beautiful and costly, though small church,\nin the suburbs of Philadelphia, built after the style of the\nEnglish Benedictine abbey-churches, and fitted up after the\nmanner which delights the Anglo-Catholic heart. This invitation\nhe declined, at the request of his bishop, who was naturally loth\nto part with him. A proposal was then made that he should found a\nnew parish; and this, I suppose, was the plan afterward carried\nout at St. Luke's. This plan was postponed from time to time on\naccount of the precarious health of Alfred Baker. Meanwhile, he\ndevoted himself most assiduously to his private religious\nexercises and to his ministerial labors. I have never known a\nyoung clergyman more universally and warmly loved and admired\nthan he was among the people of his communion. He improved\nsedulously his admirable gifts for preaching, and in a diocese\ncontaining a number of excellent preachers, he attained and kept\nthe first rank. His fastidious taste and sense of propriety led\nhim soon to drop the long cassock, and every thing else in\noutward dress and demeanor which had appeared singular in the\nfirst years of his ministry. He avoided controversy and all\npeculiarities of doctrine in his sermons, and confined himself\nchiefly to those truths of religion and those practical points\nwhich could be received without question by his hearers. Aside\nfrom the pastoral intercourse which he had with his people, his\nlife was very retired. He had the ideal of the Catholic\npriesthood always in view, and this encompassed his discharge of\nministerial duties with many practical difficulties. He felt this\nparticularly, as he has often said, in his visits to the sick and\ndying, on account of the want of the proper sacraments, and the\nwant of a real and recognized sacerdotal relation.\n{82}\nHe could not help feeling always that while theoretically he\nregarded himself as a Catholic priest, in point of fact he was\nbut a Protestant minister, compelled to fall back on a system of\nsubjective pietism, based on Lutheran doctrine, to which he had\nan invincible repugnance, and in which his hands were tied.\n\nMeanwhile events were progressing in the English Church and\nproducing their reflex action in this country. On the one hand,\nthe Oxford movement was still going forward under new leaders,\nand on the other, the Protestant character of the Anglican\nEstablishment and its American colony was exhibiting itself every\nday more and more decisively. The first great wave that had\nrolled toward Catholicity had cast up those who were foremost on\nits crest on the Rock of Peter. Another wave was rolling forward\nin the same direction, which was destined to bear on its summit\nstill more of those who floated on the great sea of doubt and\nerror to the same secure refuge. The first converts were given up\nto obloquy, and their influence in every possible way lowered or\ndestroyed, by belittling their character, if that was possible,\nor, if not, by inventing specious reasons to show that the course\nthey had taken was the result of some personal idiosyncrasy, and\nnot the just consequence of their Catholic principles. It was\nstoutly asserted that the movement was not responsible for them,\nand that it did not of itself lead to Rome. It began again afresh\nwith new men, new books, new projects. Again there was an\nadvanced party; and in due time this advanced party began to move\nRomeward, denying as before that it would ever actually arrive at\nRome. Nevertheless, many of its members, some of very high\ncharacter and position, did eventually follow the earlier\nconverts over to the Catholic Church. Others, especially those\nwho were in stations of dignity and authority, began to recoil\nand retract, and call back their followers to the safer ground of\nthe old High Church.\n{83}\nIn this country there was a sad lack of earnestness and reality\non the part of the majority of those who had yielded themselves\nto Oxford influences, and these influences were but faintly felt\nby the laity. Mr. Baker was, however, deeply and sadly in\nearnest. He had schooled himself into submission to his\n_soi-disant_ Church and bishop, and resolutely determined to\nbelieve that he could think, act, and live up to Catholic\ndoctrines and laws where he was. He had thrown himself anew into\nAnglicanism, putting faith in its new leaders and the old ones\nwho remained, and confiding in the reality and success of their\nefforts. Long and wearily he struggled to hold out in this\ncourse, in spite of the daily increasing evidence that it was\ndelusive and hopeless. For long years he was tossed backward and\nforward on the waves of doubt and uncertainty, sometimes almost\ngaining a foothold on the Rock, and then dashed again backward\ninto the sea.\n\nMost persons, whether they are Catholics or Protestants, will\nwonder that Mr. Baker, having approached at first, by almost a\nsingle bound, so near the very threshold of the Catholic Church,\nshould have waited and hesitated so long before taking the final\nstep over its border. Those who have not felt it can hardly\nunderstand the strong spell by which the system so ably advocated\nby the Oxford divines captivated many minds. To those who were\ndeeply imbued with certain Catholic prepossessions, and yet not\nemancipated from the old hereditary prejudice against the Roman\nChurch, it offered a compromise which allowed them to cherish\ntheir prepossessions and yet remain in the reformed Church, where\nthey were at home and among their friends, and free to select\nsome and reject other Catholic doctrines and usages, according to\ntheir own private judgment and taste. It pretended to give them\n\"a Catholicity more Catholic, and an antiquity more ancient\" than\nthose of the ancient, universal mother and mistress of churches\nherself.\n{84}\nOnce seduced by this specious pretence, there was no end to the\ningenious arguments, wire-drawn distinctions, fine-spun theories,\nand plausible special pleading by which they were detained under\nits influence. The theory has infinite variations, and a\nflexibility which accommodates itself to every form of doctrine,\nfrom the lowest tolerated in the Episcopal ministry to the\nhighest advocated in the _Union Review_. This influence on\nthe mind and conscience is a very injurious one, and tends to\ndisable them from reasoning and deciding, in a plain and direct\nmanner, on broad and general principles. Mr. Baker became aware\nof this afterward, and regretted that he had permitted himself to\nbe swayed so much by the authority of others instead of following\nthe dictates of his own judgment and conscience. It is impossible\nfor me to say whether he was dilatory in following the\ninspirations of divine grace or not. No one but God can certainly\njudge how much time is necessary in any individual case for the\nfull maturing of the convictions into a distinct and undoubting\nfaith. One thing I can assert, however, with confidence, and I\nbelieve that every one who reads the ensuing extracts from Mr.\nBaker's letters will share the same conviction: that he never\ndeliberately quenched the light of the Divine Spirit, or refused\nto follow it from any worldly and unworthy motives. He sought for\nwisdom by study, prayer, and a pure life, and although he was\nslow in arriving at a full determination, yet he made a continual\nprogress toward it; and when he reached it, he did not shrink\nfrom any sacrifice which obedience to God and his conscience\nrequired of him.\n\nIn a letter under the date of June 4, 1849, after speaking of the\nprobability of his leaving St. Paul's, and the uncertainty he was\nin in regard to his future plans, which were interfered with by\nthe ill-health of his brother, he thus writes:\n\n{85}\n\n  \"I missed you at the Convention; indeed, there are several\n  reasons why I did not enjoy myself at that time. It seemed to\n  me that there were but one or two with whom I had any real\n  sympathy. There was very little done. The bishop could not be\n  present on account of indisposition. K. read the bishop's\n  charge. It was able, but _thoroughly_ and _strongly_\n  Protestant. The position it took was perfectly unequivocal; and\n  it places certain people, whose position before was\n  sufficiently uncomfortable, in a most painful predicament. He\n  shuts us up to the very sense of the Articles and Prayer-Book,\n  _as understood by the Reformers;_ and tells those who\n  cannot submit to this, who are willing not to _contradict_\n  that sense, but do not _believe_ it, he tells them very\n  plainly that they are obliged to leave a ministry for which\n  they are no longer competent. The charge convinces me either\n  that we have heretofore misunderstood the bishop, or that he\n  has fixed himself upon a new platform. He now makes the\n  Protestant element in our Church's teaching (which is certainly\n  the most prominent one in her history) the most authoritative\n  and controlling. It appears to me that he might as well have\n  said at once that the Church of England was _founded_ at\n  the Reformation. May God teach us what we ought to do.\"\n\nI have been told by Mr. Baker that the bishop, on some occasion,\nsent him his charge to look over, with the request that he would\nread it for him at the Convention, and that he declined reading\nit, on account of his strong objection to the doctrine it\ncontained. I suppose that this must have been the charge in\nquestion. I find no other letter from this date until January 9,\n1850, under which date he writes at length, and begins to unbosom\nhimself more freely than he had done before:\n\n  \"There was something in your last letter which was particularly\n  refreshing to me. It seemed like old times, and brought an\n  assurance of sympathy when I had begun deeply to feel the want\n  of it. You say that my letter was not so full or like myself as\n  some others. There was a reason why it was not so, and the same\n  reason has delayed the answer to your last kind favor.\n{86}\n  I have had many painful and distressing thoughts, which I\n  hardly knew how to express to any one; and it seemed a wrong\n  and cruelty to grieve one's friends when every catholic-minded\n  brother had so much to bear on his own account. Now that I have\n  decided upon the course I will take, I can write more calmly,\n  and with less risk of perplexing others. You will guess the\n  cause of anxiety. My conviction of the truth and holiness of\n  Catholic doctrines has not diminished since I saw you; my\n  apprehension of what I hold is firmer and more distinct; my\n  prejudice against some things which the Roman Church holds as\n  catholic truths, but which we deny, has been shaken; and while\n  this was enough to make my present position in some respects\n  uncomfortable, the longing for a fuller measure of catholic\n  privileges, the want of sympathy, the uncertainty, dissension,\n  and mutability among us, and the awful greatness of the claims\n  and promises of Rome, made me willing to entertain the thought\n  of changing my ecclesiastical relations. On looking back upon\n  this state of feeling, there was much that was wrong. I felt in\n  many ways the results of past unfaithfulness; I was confused\n  and perplexed; I was doubtful of my own sincerity. Sometimes\n  every thing seemed uncertain to me. But whatever were the\n  causes, and whatever the characteristics of my state of mind, I\n  felt, upon a careful examination of myself that the only proper\n  course for me to pursue was to institute a candid and diligent\n  search into the claims of the Roman Church to be _the_\n  Holy Catholic Church. All her claims seem to resolve themselves\n  into that of the supremacy of the See of St. Peter, and I\n  accordingly resolved to confine my investigations to that\n  point. I communicated my determination to the bishop last week,\n  and asked him whether I could continue to officiate while I was\n  engaged in such a course. He thought I could and ought, and\n  offered me every assistance in his power, in the way of books,\n  advice, etc. He was wonderfully kind and forbearing, but firm\n  in assuring me that investigation of the point would but end in\n  conviction of the untenableness of the Roman claim.\n{87}\n  I have felt calmer since I acted thus, and propose to enter\n  forthwith upon the study of this question, keeping it as clear\n  as I can of exterior matters, and pushing it, if I may, to a\n  decision. I need not, I know, ask of you the charity to\n  continue your prayers for the Divine blessing and guidance to\n  your perplexed friend.\"\n\n\n  \"_Tuesday Night_.\n  \"You will understand, from what I have been telling you of the\n  thoughts which have occupied my mind for some time past, how\n  the various events in the Church during the last few months\n  have affected me. With regard to ----'s departure, I confess it\n  was the deepest grief to me, and, in connection with other\n  circumstances, did much to distress and unsettle me. It is one\n  of the most afflicting things about the present controversies,\n  these separations between friend and friend, between master and\n  disciple; yet I know that even this is to be borne meekly and\n  obediently, if we cannot see it to be our _imperative\n  duty_ to follow those we have loved and lost; and now that I\n  have undertaken in a rational way to satisfy myself on this\n  point I can think more calmly of our isolation and bereavement.\n  To return to more Protestant ground (I know that it does not\n  suit unlearned people to say what they will do, but) I feel is\n  impossible. My conviction of the truth of the system (in\n  opposing and barking at which Protestantism has its life and\n  occupation) continually increases; but I think I feel that if I\n  could be persuaded that the Divine Will made it to be my duty\n  to remain where I am, I could submit to all the difficulties\n  and privations of our position uncomplainingly and even\n  cheerfully.\n\n  \"Bishop Ives's movement, so far as it was intended to introduce\n  the general practice of auricular confession, had my\n  unrestrained sympathy. How far he meant to go in asserting its\n  _necessity_, I confess myself unable to determine; but\n  anyhow, I think he went farther than Protestant Episcopalianism\n  will bear him out in going.\n{88}\n  It was an infinite relief to me when he came out as boldly as\n  he did; and now that he has presented the subject anew to the\n  Church, I feel assured that the Church will be obliged to meet\n  the question. I confess I do not feel very hopeful as to the\n  issue of the controversy, for it seems to me that nothing short\n  of a miracle could dispose the mass of our people to the\n  practice of confession. The High Churchmen will be as opposed\n  to it as the Low Churchmen. Maryland will kick as much as Ohio.\n  But _nous verrons_.\"\n\nSome time after the date of this letter, Mr. Baker made a voyage\nto Bermuda with his brother Alfred, who was now in a deep and\nhopeless decline. He returned some time in the early part of the\nensuing summer. One day, either a little before or a little after\nthis voyage, I accidentally met him as I was out walking. I had\nreturned once more to Baltimore, and was making my novitiate at\nthe House attached to St. Alphonsus' Church. It was now nearly\nfive years since I had seen my former friend, and three since I\nhad received any letters from him. I was startled and pleased at\nour unexpected rencontre, and at the light of friendship which I\nsaw in his face and eyes; but the pain of being separated from\nhim was renewed. Mr. Lyman came to see me, one day, during the\nspring of 1850; and was much more frank and cordial in his manner\nthan Mr. Baker, who kept a close vail of reserve over his heart\nuntil the last. I inquired of him particularly about Mr. Baker,\nwhether he had made any retrograde movement, &c. He replied that\nhe had rather advanced, and had become more spiritual in his\npreaching, advised me to visit him, and on my objecting to this\non the ground that a visit might be intrusive and unwelcome,\nassured me of the contrary. It was through his influence that\nsome degree of intercourse was from this time re-established\nbetween Mr. Baker and myself. A subsequent letter of Mr. Baker\nspeaks of his visiting me, and also describes his visit to\nBermuda in the following terms. The letter is dated October 24,\n1850:--\n\n{89}\n\n  \"On my return from Bermuda, I found your kind and interesting\n  letter, and felt grateful to you for the friendship which you\n  have now continued to me for several years. I am sorry not to\n  have seen you when you were in Baltimore, and in fact that was\n  the only regret I felt on account of my absence from home at\n  the time of the Convention. The Convention itself I have ceased\n  to look forward to with any pleasure. The truth is, it always\n  saddens me to mingle at all with the clergy promiscuously. I\n  feel that there is so little sympathy between us, that the\n  sense of loneliness is forced upon me more distinctly than when\n  I keep to myself altogether. But I do not mean to write\n  gloomily to a friend with whom I communicate so seldom, and\n  indeed I do not _complain_ of the want of sympathy which I\n  feel, or blame others for it. I know that the cause of it is in\n  myself, and I acknowledge with gratitude the great degree of\n  indulgence, kindness, and forbearance with which I have been\n  universally treated.\n\n  \"I have felt happier lately, though I do not know why I should,\n  for I cannot say that I have gained a satisfactory position;\n  and when I think of dying, anxious thoughts come across me; but\n  I have been pursuing (as my occupation allows me) my\n  investigations into the question of the supremacy, and I wish\n  to abide by the result, without being swayed by feeling one way\n  or another. I have read Newman's Discourses since I received\n  your letter. They are like all that he writes, thoughtful,\n  earnest, holy, and deeply impressive; but I think they differ\n  from his Parochial Sermons in having the appearance of more\n  excited feeling, and in being more affectionate in their tone.\n  He seems to write under a pressing anxiety to influence those\n  he addresses, and he opens his heart more than he did of old. I\n  think this accounts in part for an objection which I have heard\n  brought against them, that they are not so strictly logical.\n{90}\n  He seems to me possessed with that proselyting spirit which has\n  always appeared to me to be so divine a token about the Church\n  of Rome, as if the constant reflection of his mind was, 'What\n  shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world, and\n  lose his own soul?'\n\n  \"I was deeply interested in the account of your visit to H. I\n  too saw H., but only for a moment. We met on the road, and he\n  stopped most kindly, and we had a minute's conversation. Of\n  course there was nothing but commonplace. I know not how he\n  felt, but I felt very sad.\n\n  \"You may imagine that I have looked with no little interest at\n  the progress of ecclesiastical affairs in England. The\n  secessions lately have made a tremendous excitement--more so, I\n  really think, than those in 1845, perhaps on account of the\n  'present distress.'\n\n  \"I have not much of interest to tell you about Bermuda. You\n  know it is an English colony, and I saw there for the first\n  time the workings of the English Church. In every thing except\n  the Morning and Evening Prayer, I think we have the advantage,\n  particularly excepting the latter. The clergy I found a\n  hard-working set of men, frank and cordial, and very much\n  interested and well informed in matters relating to our Church.\n  The churches are very plain, but have a quiet, grave, soothing\n  air about them, the clergy mostly 'High Church,' but not after\n  our sort, and the people seemed to me to be almost entirely\n  devoid of a Church tone and spirit, though not irreligious.\n  Dissent is very rife, and, I fancy, influences even members of\n  the Church. They have a noble-hearted bishop, Bishop Field,\n  austere, self-denying, devout, hard-working, and charitable,\n  and by his assistance they are building a very handsome church\n  on the island; but I found that he was not popular, that even\n  his mode of life was objected to: he was called a\n  _Puseyite_. I did not preach while I was there, but I\n  assisted several of the clergy at the services, and once at the\n  holy communion, in which I found the omission of 'the oblation'\n  to have a most painful effect upon my feelings.\n\n{91}\n\n  \"I was very glad to get so full and gratifying account of your\n  church. I do indeed congratulate you on its completion. I think\n  you have done wonders, with so many difficulties, to succeed in\n  so short a time, and I sincerely hope that you may find your\n  zeal and labor repaid by an increase of your congregation, and\n  of true devotion and earnestness among them. From your\n  description of the church I thought it must be a very\n  magnificent edifice, quite beyond York Minster and churches of\n  that size; and to see so famous a building, and still more to\n  see the kind, warm friend who ministers within it, would be so\n  great a pleasure, that you must not be surprised if some old\n  friends should some time make a pilgrimage there.\"\n\n\n  \"_January_ 27, 1851.\n  \"I often feel what a relief it would be to open one's heart,\n  and to have the sympathy and counsel of a friend who can\n  understand one's views and feelings. But it is impossible to do\n  so by letter, because one shrinks from coolly writing down\n  one's thoughts, which would be expressed without effort in the\n  warmth and freedom of conversation. Since the receipt of your\n  letter I saw H. I had determined not to seek him, but about the\n  beginning of this month he called on me. He was kind, but the\n  visit was not agreeable: it was _awkward_. I returned his\n  visit last week, and enjoyed being in his society. I talked\n  with him as guardedly as I could while using any degree of\n  frankness and cordiality. I could not consent to postpone my\n  visit to him, as I had reason to believe that his coming to see\n  me was providential, to assist me in the matter in which I am\n  laboring, viz., to ascertain the Catholic Church. I asked him\n  several questions concerning the Papal supremacy, which he\n  answered very readily and with great ability.\n{92}\n  He gave me some assistance in pursuing my inquiries, and I\n  promised to see him again before long. I came away feeling\n  better for having been with him, and with a heavy conviction on\n  my mind how little share I had in the blessing of the pure in\n  heart.\n\n  \"I find very little time to study. The duties which devolve\n  upon me take so much of my attention, that I could find it in\n  my heart to throw them up, were I not advised otherwise by the\n  bishop. Besides, I know that it is only by humility and\n  obedience and fidelity that we can arrive at the truth. O\n  Dwight! again I ask your prayers in my behalf, especially for\n  earnestness in seeking the truth, to make the holy vow, 'I will\n  not climb up into my bed, nor suffer my eyelids to take any\n  rest, until' I have an obedient spirit to obey God's will,\n  _directly_ it is made known.\n\n  \"The course of Church matters is to me increasingly\n  unsatisfactory. The anti-Papal movement has placed the Church\n  of England on decidedly worse ground, if indeed it has not\n  bound her to that decision, on rejecting which her Catholicity\n  seems to be suspended. I do think that, after all that has\n  happened, for bishops and people to be crying up the royal\n  supremacy looks like accepting that supremacy to the full\n  extent to which it has lately been claimed. What did you think\n  of Mr. Bennett's course? To say the truth, I was not satisfied\n  with his letters, though I felt a sympathy with the man. Pray\n  can you tell me what ground there is for the assertion that\n  Archdeacon Manning and Mr. Dodsworth have resigned and are on\n  their way to Jerusalem?\"\n\n  * * * * *\n\nSome time after this, Mr. Baker was appointed rector of the new\nparish of St. Luke's, where he remained until he gave up the\nProtestant ministry, that is, for about two years. During his\nrectorship he removed to a pleasant residence near the site of\nthe church, and employed himself in building a tasteful Gothic\nchurch, which he proposed to finish and decorate in accordance\nwith his own idea of ecclesiastical propriety.\n{93}\nIt was only partially completed at the time he left it. His next\nletter to Mr. Lyman, who was now progressing rapidly toward the\nCatholic Church, and urging forward his slower footsteps, is\ndated\n\n  \"_Tuesday in Holy Week, April_ 15, 1851.\n  \"I read your letter with a great deal of emotion, and was\n  prompted to sit down and say a word in reply immediately; but\n  as I have gone to St. Luke's, there were some duties devolving\n  upon me which took up my time more than is usual with me. You\n  may be assured of my sympathy in much that you feel and\n  express. I do think that the statements of Allies's book are of\n  a kind which ought to make a profound impression upon us, and\n  which ought to modify very much the feelings with which we have\n  been taught to regard the Roman communion; and I _do_\n  think honestly that our Church is at present in a miserable\n  condition, and that no good can come of denying it. As you say,\n  it becomes at such a time a very solemn question, in view of\n  eternity, _what we ought to do_. My dear Dwight, I think I\n  am sincere when I say that to me the way of duty seems to take\n  pains and make such an investigation as I can into the question\n  upon which the claim of _authority_ rests, and to abide by\n  the result: meanwhile to live in prayer and upon such catholic\n  truth as we are permitted to hold, imploring God to take pity\n  upon us, and to look upon his distracted people. H. recommended\n  me a treatise on the supremacy by the brothers Ballerini, but I\n  find that I do not read Latin with such facility as to reap the\n  full benefit of the perusal of such a work at present. I have\n  therefore taken up Kenrick on the Primacy. With regard to my\n  duties as a minister, I have thought it right to be directed\n  from without, and I was passive in accepting St. Luke's, which\n  was strongly urged upon me. Surely we may hope that if we\n  faithfully and devoutly, and in a spirit of humility and\n  obedience, work with our intention constantly directed to God's\n  glory and the salvation of souls, He will bless and guide us.\n{94}\n  It was a comfort to me to think you remembered me and my\n  difficulties in your Lenten exercises, and I assure you that\n  you have been constantly remembered by your perplexed friend. I\n  feel afraid of myself and of my own heart--afraid of taking a\n  wrong step, afraid on account of my past sins, afraid when I\n  look forward to the judgment of our dear Lord; and you may be\n  sure that I find prayer my greatest comfort, the belief in the\n  intercession of our Blessed Mother and the saints in heaven, as\n  well as in the value of the supplications of Christians on\n  earth, a source of real strength. Pray for me, my dear friend,\n  that I may be enabled sincerely to appeal to God and say that\n  His Church is the first object of my heart, and that I may be\n  diligent and studious and obedient to His grace and to\n  conscience.\n\n  \"I see the English papers constantly, and they are full of\n  interest. We know not what is before us; these are\n  heart-stirring times, and we can but adore the counsel of God\n  by which we were born in them, and anxiously seek to take the\n  right course amid so many perplexities. I have recently read\n  Dr. Pusey's letter to the Bishop of London. It is a very able\n  letter, and one calculated to rouse the feelings of the\n  Catholic-minded men in England. I confess it made me feel more\n  hopeful.\n\n  \"If it is _our duty_ to remain where we are, it is a noble\n  thing to be called to labor amid so many discouragements, and,\n  surrounded by temptations, to keep the Catholic Faith whole and\n  inviolate! Every day I feel a stronger repugnance to\n  Protestantism, and a determination by God's help to carry out\n  my principles consistently; but with regard to the Roman\n  Catholic Church, I do not see how intellectually it can\n  dispense with the theory of development, and I feel a strong\n  suspicion of that theory. I went to see H. again, but he was in\n  New York, and will not be back until after Easter.\n\n{95}\n\n  \"I feel that I am in a difficult and dangerous situation, but I\n  have the comfort of knowing that I have the advice of the\n  bishop to do as I am doing; and if I can be sure of God's\n  blessing, by watchfulness and strictness and faithfulness I may\n  yet be happy. I have written confidentially, and all about\n  myself, but you will forgive me. The bell rings for prayers.\n  Good-by.\"\n\n\n  \"_August_ 4, 1851.\n  \"You will be anxious to know the impression made upon my mind\n  by what I have been reading on the Roman Catholic question. On\n  the whole, many difficulties that lay in the way have been\n  removed, and the claims of the Roman See appear far more\n  strongly supported by antiquity than I had ever dreamed of\n  before. Kenrick's is, I think, a very strong book, although it\n  has a very apologetic air; yet there was a great deal in it\n  which seemed to me very forcible. But the book which made\n  altogether the most decided impression on my mind was 'The\n  Unity of the Episcopate.' The _principle_ of unity was\n  there unfolded in a way that was new to me, and which I think\n  does away with a whole class of passages (and they the\n  strongest) which are usually alleged against the Papacy.\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"I find my greatest want to be the want of earnestness and a\n  spiritual mind. My dear Dwight, this is not cant. I want you to\n  pray that God would not take his Holy Spirit from me. I desire\n  above all things to be a Catholic, and I am resolved by God's\n  help not to give up the present investigation until I am\n  satisfied about my duty, which at present I am not, but very,\n  very much harassed and perplexed. May God in his good time\n  grant us both to see clearly the way we ought to take. I saw H.\n  a few weeks ago, and had a pleasant interview. He thinks it\n  possible that he will leave Baltimore in September. I have\n  sometimes felt lately as if a _decision_ of the great\n  question was not far off. Oh, that it may be a wise and true\n  decision!\"\n\n{96}\n\nA few weeks after writing this letter, Mr. Baker came very near\nmaking a decision to give up his ministry and place himself under\nthe instruction of a Catholic priest. His conviction was not yet\nfully matured, or his doubts quite removed, and the wisest course\nwould have been for him to have gone into a complete retirement\nfor a while, in order to complete his studies, and allow his mind\nand conscience time to ripen into a decision. He communicated his\nstate of mind to the bishop, and was so far overruled by him as\nto consent to wait a while longer, and postpone his decision. He\ninforms his friend of all that took place at this crisis, in a\nlong and deeply interesting letter of thirteen pages, from which\nI shall only make a few extracts. It is dated November 11, 1851,\nand is full of affection, of sadness, and of the tremulous\nbreathings of a sensitive, delicate conscience, deeply troubled\nby anxiety and fear, almost ready to seek repose in the bosom of\nthe Church, but driven back by doubt to struggle yet longer with\nadverse winds.\n\nHe says at the beginning of his letter:\n\n  \"First let me thank you again for your expressions of kindness\n  and affection. I assure you I thank you for them, and feel that\n  they, together with the friendship which has lasted so long,\n  give you a claim on my confidence and love. Nor have I been\n  unmindful of the claim, for I have constantly thought of you,\n  and often invoked God's aid in your behalf; and if I have not\n  written often, it is because I am myself in great perplexity,\n  and feel the responsibility which attaches to every word,\n  uttered at a time like this, on subjects which concern the\n  salvation of ourselves and others also. This was my feeling\n  when I last wrote. I felt as if I wanted a little\n  _recollection_ before I could write as I wished on some\n  points; and as I was then much occupied, I deferred writing\n  fully until some other time. However, your letter to-day\n  demands an immediate answer, and I proceed to give you an\n  answer to your inquiries, and a faithful transcript of my\n  feelings, and pray God that you may receive no injury from one\n  who would do you good.\"\n\n{97}\n\nHe states the result of his studies quite at length, summing it\nup in these words, which I quote as an accurate index of the\ndegree of conviction he had at that time reached:\n\n  \"The result of my thought and reading last summer was to\n  strengthen my impression that the claims of the Roman Catholic\n  Church on the obedience of all Christians are divine. I cannot\n  say I felt perfectly assured.\"\n\nAfter describing his interview with the bishop, and informing his\nfriend that he had consented to _wait_, he says:\n\n  \"I think I agreed to this from the fear of offending God, and\n  from that alone. As to the frown of the world, I do not think\n  it decided me, for I had looked the consequences of the act\n  full in the face, and had accepted them. I was the more ready\n  to wait, because I could not say _I had no doubt_ of the\n  propriety of secession.\"\n\nThe sequel of the letter and of its writer's history shows that\nthis doubt was not a rational doubt, but a morbid irresolution\nand timidity of mind, which ought to have been disregarded.\nConsequently, in giving way to it, he simply fell back into a\nstate in which he had just to go over again the same ground, and\nthis discouraged and disheartened him, as he frankly\nacknowledges.\n\n  \"I felt a sense of relief, partly, I believe, from having\n  opened my mind, and partly, I suspect, at finding that the\n  sacrifice to which I had looked forward was not then demanded.\n  But when I considered the matter, I saw that I was just where I\n  was before, with the whole question before me and resting on my\n  decision. From week to week I have been willing to postpone\n  looking my position in the face, seeking to excuse myself to my\n  conscience by the plea of the many unavoidable demands on my\n  time and thoughts which a new parish and a church just\n  commenced seem to make; although I feel that the danger of such\n  a course is that I may sink into a worldly, indifferent thing,\n  seeking in the praise of men a reward for my treachery to God.\n{98}\n  I have seen H. but once since I saw the bishop. The visit was\n  more constrained, because I felt I ought not to betray my\n  feelings; indeed, I would not go to see H. unless I were afraid\n  of resisting some design which God may have formed for\n  me--because the intercourse has not been of my seeking, and\n  this appearance of deceit and double-dealing is dreadful to me,\n  and makes me feel as if I were guilty.\n\n  \"I have not read any thing since my interview with the bishop.\n  My plan is to wait and seriously consider what I ought to do. I\n  need not tell you I am not happy. I am free from many of the\n  annoyances which distress you, as I read no R. C. papers, and\n  scarcely any of our own, and have no associate. I strive to\n  live by the rule recommended by Dr. Pusey, and am almost as\n  much isolated from Protestants as if there were none in our\n  communion. I believe most firmly in the Sacrifice of the Mass,\n  in the Real Presence, in the Veneration of Relics, in the\n  Mediation of the Saints, and especially of St. Mary. I\n  constantly beseech God to hear her supplications in my behalf,\n  and only do not invoke her because I am not sure of the\n  authority for doing so. I believe also in Purgatory. My\n  difficulties are on the subject of Church authority and the\n  Supremacy. My sympathy in doctrine, my reverence for the holy\n  men who have gone out from us, _my strong prepossessions in\n  favor of the Roman Catholic Church, which have never left me at\n  any period of my life_, and the distress among us, all draw\n  me to Rome; but the single question I ask myself (or strive to\n  do so) is, whether any of these things ought to decide me, and\n  whether the point of inquiry ought not to be--What is the\n  Church? Partly on account of my position, and partly, dear\n  Dwight, on account of grave deficiencies and sins in myself, I\n  feel that I am full of inconsistencies, contradictions,\n  apparent insincerities (perhaps real), presumptuous and fearful\n  at the same time, tossed with tempest, and not comforted, not\n  fully persuaded in my own mind, and not bending all my energies\n  to become so.\n{99}\n  And now, my dear Dwight, I have only opened my heart to you,\n  without at all thinking of the effect it would have upon you.\n  Simply seeking, as in duty bound, to deal with you as a friend,\n  I have let you somewhat into my heart--only somewhat, for I\n  deeply feel that to a full understanding of my state of\n  feeling, even in reference to this subject, it would be needful\n  that I should kneel down and humbly confess (as it would be a\n  comfort to do) all the many offenses in word and deed of a\n  sinful and tangled life. I have humbled myself before you. I\n  know not how it shall be hereafter between us, how differently\n  you may soon look upon me from what you have been used to do;\n  but, wherever you are, think of me as a sinner and a penitent,\n  and as one who desires and needs your prayers.\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"And now, my dear friend, I do not think of any thing else\n  which I ought to say to you, but to reciprocate the earnest\n  hope and the conviction that you express, that God Almighty may\n  enable us _together_ to have an abode here in that Ark\n  which He has set up as the place of safety and peace in a lost\n  world, and may give us _together_ an entrance into His\n  Presence forever. May He of His undeserved mercy grant it.\"\n\nDuring the winter of 1851 and 1852, Mr. Baker was very much\noccupied with church-building, and also with the cares and\nanxieties of illness and death in his family, and his attention\nwas thus drawn away in a measure from himself and from the\nquestion of the Church.\n\nHis next letter of interest was written in May, 1852,\ncommunicating the intelligence of the death of his aunt and of\nhis brother:\n\n  \"I have no doubt that you have thought your kind and patient\n  letter deserved an earlier answer, but I have been greatly and\n  particularly occupied ever since I received it When it came,\n  Aunt E. was very ill, and our anxiety about her continued to\n  increase until she was taken from us on the 31st of January.\n{100}\n  Immediately after, dear Alfred began to decline rapidly, and\n  after an interval of some weeks of great suffering on his part,\n  and of watching and sadness on ours, he too was taken on the\n  9th of April (Good Friday). You, who knew them both, and knew\n  what place they held in our hearts, can imagine the greatness\n  of the bereavement, and the depth of our suffering. God has\n  supported us mercifully, and I heartily thank Him that I have\n  so great a solace in thinking of the character of our dear\n  departed ones; and it is at such times that I feel the\n  consolatory nature of the doctrine of the communion of saints,\n  and the comfort of the practice of praying for the dead. To\n  you, who know so much of my feelings, I will not deny that the\n  uncertainty which rests upon the question of the Church has\n  disturbed the fixedness of my hope and faith during this\n  sorrowful winter, but I have not been able to advance in its\n  investigation. I now propose to resume my studies as regularly\n  and as perseveringly as my duties will permit. You are much and\n  often in my thoughts, and often do I wish that I could do by\n  you the part of a faithful friend. You always have a part in my\n  prayers, and it would be to me a great happiness to have the\n  assurance one day that my friendship has not been without some\n  benefit to you. I assure you I prize it, and I feel more\n  strongly that I have more in common with you than with anyone\n  else with whom I communicate. I have not the heart nor indeed\n  the time to write more.\"\n\n\n\n  \"_September_ 15, 1852.\n  \"I came away from Columbia with many pleasant, affectionate\n  thoughts about you, and grateful recollections of your\n  kindness, and you have often been in my mind since my return.\n  You will be glad to learn that my little jaunt was of decided\n  service to me. I have been improving in health ever since my\n  return, and now feel quite well. I suppose by this time you\n  have been on to the North and have returned, and, like myself,\n  are now quietly settled down to your duties.\n{101}\n  I found my sisters much benefited by their trip to the\n  sea-shore, and our little household has again resumed its\n  accustomed habits. I need not tell you, dear Dwight, how glad I\n  shall be if you will consent to come on now and pay your\n  promised visit. You might come at the beginning of the week,\n  and I would go and take your Sunday duties (choose a Sunday\n  when service is all day at Columbia), and then I would return\n  on Monday to be with you at home another week. I cannot promise\n  to do you good, but I can offer you, at least, what you will\n  not receive elsewhere, true and affectionate sympathy. I do\n  most deeply feel for you in your anxieties, and in much, in\n  _very_ much, I feel with you. I felt when I was with you,\n  my dear friend (now my only friend), as if the difference\n  between us was this: that you had really come to _a\n  conclusion_, while I was still of a fearful and divided\n  mind. I felt as if there was something dishonorable and\n  disgraceful in such a state of indecision, while there was an\n  appearance of manliness in your boldness and determination, and\n  I was ashamed of myself. Besides, I found myself sometimes\n  taking the anti-Roman side in argument with you, and then I was\n  vexed with myself for doing what I did nowhere else, and what I\n  could not do heartily anywhere, and I seemed to myself\n  insincere. I do not know whether you can understand me, but I\n  want you to understand my feelings; for I do not want you to\n  think I _am_ insincere, and I felt so much obliged to you\n  when you told me that you said to H. that you did not think me\n  so. I believe uncertainty often carries the appearance of\n  insincerity; and uncertain I own myself to be, full of sadness,\n  full of doubt. O Dwight, what is there in such a situation to\n  make one remain in it, if one could conscientiously leave it?\n  What could hinder me from being a Roman Catholic but for the\n  fear of doing wrong? I assure you, that as regards this world I\n  have not a hope or desire, and there is nothing earthly which I\n  could not part with this night.\n{102}\n  Nothing seems to me worth living for but the knowledge of the\n  truth and the love of God; and that position in which I feel I\n  should be the happiest would be where I should be\n  _certain_ what was truth, and could live a life hidden\n  from the world with God. I feel concerned at finding myself\n  writing so much about myself, and in such a strain; but I\n  think, in reading over the letter, you will understand how I\n  came to do it, and will pardon it.\n\n  \"I have been reading lately pretty systematically on the Roman\n  question. De Maistre and Lacordaire I have finished, and will\n  return them to you if you wish them. They are both\n  philosophical rather than theological, and from that fact, as\n  well as from the _French_ way in which they are written, I\n  think they will be less influential with persons brought up in\n  the school with you and me. I thought the remarks of De Maistre\n  on the temporal power of the Popes not near so forcible as\n  those in Brownson's Review. Thompson seems to me now, as he did\n  before, a remarkably cogent and attractive writer. I have not\n  finished his pamphlet as yet, but feel very much interested in\n  it. I have procured Balmez, and Newman on Anglicanism, but have\n  not yet read them. When I was in Philadelphia I saw Mr. ----.\n  He called on Manning when he was in London, and had a very\n  interesting interview. M. is about to publish another edition\n  of his book on the Unity of the Church. I should indeed like to\n  see it, or any thing else that Came from his hand.\n\n  * * * * *\n\n  \"God bless you, my dear friend; write to me fully and freely as\n  of old, and be sure of the affection of your friend,\n     \"F. A. B.\"\n\n{103}\n\n  \"_Ash Wednesday_, 1853.\n  * * *\n  \"The general tone of your letter, too, was sad, and that also\n  fell in with my own feelings, for you may be sure that the\n  stirring event of the last month has not been without a great\n  effect on me, agitated as I was before by so many serious\n  doubts. Well, _another_ has gone, and that the most\n  eminent of the party with which you and I have been identified,\n  and you and I remain asking still what we are to do! To me the\n  question has been of late and is now one of absorbing and\n  pressing importance, and yet I do not know how to answer it,\n  and in my perplexity can do nothing but pray--pray, as I have\n  done most earnestly, for direction from on high; and my\n  comfort, dear Dwight, is to know that you also pray for me.\n  What I want is the heart just to stand waiting God's bidding,\n  and, when that is given, to act without delay or taking counsel\n  with the flesh. I should so much like to see Bishop Ives's\n  Reasons, which I suppose will in some way be published.\n\n  * * *\n\n  I received the first number of a newspaper from New York, the\n  _Church Journal_ (which is most vociferously anti-Roman).\n  ---- is one of the editors. By the way, ---- is also connected\n  with this paper, and ----. I felt sorry to think of what a\n  different spirit they once were; and yet, if the Church of Rome\n  be not what she claims to be, the position of such men as\n  Bishop Whittingham is the right one, and ours is untenable.\n  However, I cannot but own that I have a drawing toward the\n  Roman Catholic communion so strong that, if I were to be\n  without it, I should feel as if I were not myself. I have not\n  thought it right to go by this feeling, but it is very strong,\n  and I confess I feel _envious_ of Bishop Ives, when I\n  think of him in his new home--a feeling which I often have in\n  reference to dear H., whom I loved and reverenced so truly. (By\n  the way, H., I hear, is either at present in Baltimore, or is\n  about coming here, to conduct a 'mission' in the Cathedral.) I\n  often feel afraid, my dear Dwight, in writing on such subjects,\n  of doing wrong in expressing my feelings and thoughts, and of\n  doing you harm; but after all, it seems not improper for\n  friends such as we are to speak without reserve, and perhaps I\n  have done so too little.\n\n{104}\n\n  \"I have been reading a good deal lately.\n\n  * * *\n\n  The articles on Cyprian (by Dr. Nevin) were indeed most\n  masterly, and seemed to me to express the true doctrine of\n  antiquity as to the primacy of the Roman See. They have caused\n  a good deal of speculation on my part. I do not see how the\n  writer can fail to become a Roman Catholic. I did not tell you\n  what I thought of Newman's book; it was full of power, many\n  most capital hits and brilliant passages, and, what is better,\n  satisfactory explanations of difficulties. The eleventh lecture\n  seemed to me the least successful, and I own, even after\n  reading it, the position of the Greek Church, based on a\n  theological theory not unlike that which is advocated by\n  Anglo-Catholics, and much the same (as Brownson seems to think)\n  with that held by many Roman Catholics, does seem to me a\n  difficulty. Balmez, too, I have proceeded some way with, and am\n  much interested in.\n\n  \"I thank you for Brownson very much. I have read the number you\n  sent me, and it has set me to thinking. His positions are bold\n  and require some reflection; and though I find in him the\n  consistent expression of much that I think I always believed,\n  yet he presents many new ideas to me.\n\n  * * *\n\n  \"Adieu to-night, my dear Dwight. May the blessing of Heaven be\n  with you.\"\n\nThis was the last of these sad epistles--these outbreathings of a\npure and noble, but troubled spirit, enveloped in the obscure\nnight of doubt, and seeking wearily for the light of truth. It\nwas written on the first day of Lent; and when that Lent had\npassed by, the clouds of mist had lifted from around the soul of\nFrancis Baker, never to return. Before he wrote again to his dear\nfriend, the _coup de-grace_ had been given. The blow was\nstruck suddenly and effectually, and the news of it came\nunexpectedly, with a startling and almost sunning effect upon his\nfriend, through the following brief and abrupt communication--\n\n{105}\n\n  \"Baltimore, _April_ 5, 1853.\n  \"My Dear Dwight:--The decision is made: I have resigned my\n  parish, and am about to place myself under instruction\n  preparatory to my being received into the Catholic Church. I\n  can write no more at present. May God help you.\n    \"Your affectionate friend,\n    \"Francis A. Baker.\"\n\nThis letter was followed by another, written three days after, in\nreply to one from Mr. Lyman.\n\n  \"My Dear Dwight:--It _was_ cruel in me to write so\n  briefly, but if you knew what a press of duty came upon me just\n  at once, you would pity me, and indeed now I am in such a\n  confusion, that it takes some courage to write a line. But, my\n  dear friend, you have been so great a help to me, that it would\n  be worse than heathen in me not to give you one word of\n  explanation. I decided to submit to the Catholic Church last\n  Sunday night, and gave in my resignation to the vestry on last\n  Tuesday morning. I went to the archbishop, and to-morrow I make\n  my profession in St. Alphonsus' Church, before only two\n  witnesses, the least the rubric requires. This was in\n  compliance with the advice of the Bishop, who did not think it\n  well to give unnecessary publicity to the act. Plain and\n  sufficient arguments had long enough been addressed to my mind,\n  but my conversion at last I owe only to the grace of God. It\n  was the gift of God through Prayers, and now I can say 'Nunc\n  Dimittis'--for 'I believe, O God! all the Holy Truths which Thy\n  Catholic Church proposes to our belief, because Thou, my God,\n  hast revealed them all; and Thy Church has declared them. In\n  this faith I desire to live, and in the same, by Thy holy\n  grace, I am most firmly resolved to die. Amen.'\n\n  * * *\n\n  \"I shall prepare for the sacraments next week, but beyond that,\n  I have formed no plans.\n\n{106}\n\n  \"My dear Dwight, I feel that I have too long resisted God's\n  grace, and it will be one of the sins which I must now repent\n  of. God by His merciful kindness did not suffer me to be\n  abandoned, as, indeed, my resistance of His grace deserved, but\n  kindly pleaded with me, and I am now at the threshold of the\n  kingdom of God. Come with us, dear Dwight, come; God's time is\n  the best time. May our Lord bless you and direct you. Yours\n  affectionately,\n    \"Francis A. Baker.\"\n\nThis closes the correspondence of Mr. Baker with the dear and\nvalued friend of his youth and manhood, previous to his reception\ninto the Catholic Church; and I have postponed the continuation\nof my narrative in order to complete my extracts from it, and\nleave the writer to tell his own touching story to the end.\n\nMr. Baker's conversion was the logical sequence of his former\nlife, both intellectual and spiritual; it was the result of the\naccumulating light of the eleven preceding years, concentrated\nand brought to a focus upon the practical question of duty and\nobligation. The particular events which immediately preceded it,\nwere like the stroke of the hammer on the mould of a bell,\nalready completely cast and finished beneath it, and waiting only\nthe shattering of its earthen shell to ring out with a clear and\nmusical sound. \"_The just man is the accuser of himself_,\"\nand Mr. Baker, whose deep humility made him unconscious of his\nown goodness, in the first vivid consciousness that the light\nwhich had led him to the Catholic Church was the light of grace,\ncould no longer understand his past state of doubt, and\nreproached himself for it, as a sinful resistance to God. It is\nnot necessary, however, to suppose that there was any thing\ngrievously culpable in that state of doubt and hesitation.\n\n{107}\n\nHe was right in attributing his final decision to the efficacious\ngrace of the Holy Spirit. But this grace was only the last of a\nlong series of graces which had prepared him to receive it. It\ndid not change, but only perfected his habitual disposition of\nmind. It produced a crisis and a transformation in his soul, but\nit was one to which a long and gradual process had been\ncontinually tending. It was not a miracle, or a sudden\nrevelation. Careful thought and reading, and the assiduous\ncultivation of his spiritual faculties had brought him to the\napprehension of all the data of a rational judgment that the\nCatholic Church is true. The apparently sudden moment of\ndeliberation and decision was but the successful effort of the\nmind and will to come into the certain consciousness of the truth\nalready fairly proposed, and to determine to follow it. It was a\nsupernatural grace which made this effort successful, and\nelevated the just conclusions of reason to the certitude of\nfaith. But it was not a grace which superseded reason or\ndispensed with the reasonable grounds and evidences of an\nintellectual judgment and the motives of a just determination.\n\nMr. Baker must have been drawing near to a decision during the\nwhole of Lent; for his mind was evidently more deeply and\nearnestly bent on coming to it, when I saw him in Easter Week,\nthan ever. He called on me on the Friday evening of Easter week,\nand his manner was much changed. His anxiety of mind broke\nthrough the reserve he had heretofore maintained, and instead of\nthe guarded and self-controlled manner he had preserved in former\ninterviews, he was abrupt and outspoken. At the very outset, he\nexpressed his feeling that the question of difference between us\nwas one of vital importance, in regard to which one of us must be\ndeeply and dangerously in the wrong, and desired to discuss the\nmatter with me fully. I suppose his intention was to see me more\nfrequently than he had done, to open his mind more fully, and to\nget from me all the help I could give him in making up his mind.\nWe had a pretty long conversation on theological points, without\ngoing into the discussion of fundamental Catholic principles.\n{108}\nThe truth is, Mr. Baker had already mastered these principles,\nand was really settled in regard to every essential doctrine. He\nhad no need of further study, but merely of an effort to shake\noff that kind of doubt which is a mental weakness, and\nperpetually revolves difficulties and objections which ought not\nto affect the judgment. The one particular point which we\ndiscussed most was in reference to some passages in the writings\nof St. Augustine concerning the doctrine of Purgatory--a doctrine\nwhich he had clearly stated his belief in, two years before. I\nanswered his difficulty as well as I could at the time, promising\nto examine the matter more fully the next day, and to give him a\nwritten answer, which I accordingly did, but too late to be of\nany service to him, as the sequel will show. I left him with a\nstrong impression that the crisis of his mind was at hand, and\nfor that reason engaged all the members of the community to pray\nfor him particularly. After leaving me, he called on a young lady\nwho was very ill, and had sent for him to visit her. This young\nlady, who died happily in the bosom of the Catholic Church a few\nweeks after, had already sent for one of the reverend gentlemen\nof the Cathedral, and expressed to him her desire to become a\nCatholic, but had consented, at the request of her family, to\nhave an interview with Mr. Baker before receiving the sacraments.\nWhen he came to her bedside, she informed him of her state of\nmind, and asked him if he had any satisfactory reason to allege\nwhy she should not fulfil her wish to be received into the\nCatholic Church before she died. He told her that he regretted\nvery much that she had chosen to consult with him on that point,\nas there were reasons why he must decline giving her advice on\nthe subject. She conjured him to tell her distinctly what he\nthought, and he again replied that he was not able to say any\nthing to her on the subject. She looked at him earnestly, and\nsaid, \"I see how it is, Mr. Baker; you are in doubt yourself.\"\nWithout saying another word, he left the room and the house,\ntranspierced with a pain which he could neither endure nor\nremove.\n{109}\nHe turned his steps toward the Cathedral, and walked around it\nseveral times, like one not knowing where to go, and then\nreturned to his home and his study to remain in solitude and\nprayer, through several anxious days and sleepless nights. He was\nnow face to face with the certainty that he dare not promise to\nanyone else security of salvation in the Episcopal Church. Yet,\nhe was a minister of that Church, and was trusting his own\nsalvation to it. To remain in such a position longer had become\nimpossible to a conscientious man like him. Nevertheless, he went\nthrough the duties of Sunday, and again read prayers in his\nchurch on the Monday and Tuesday mornings. He had been censured\nfor this, by some, as if he had acted a hypocritical part, but\nmost unjustly. Certainly, if he had asked my advice beforehand, I\nshould have told him that he had no right to do it. But the\nreader of this narrative will see that his own conscience had\nbeen frequently overruled on the question of exercising the\nministry in a state of doubt, and on Sunday he was still in this\nstate, undecided what to do. He did not actually give in his\nresignation until after prayers on Tuesday morning, and any\ncandid person will surely admit that he was excusable, in the\nagitation of the moment, for thinking that it was better to\nfulfil the engagements he was under to his people until the last\nmoment, when these consisted merely in reciting a form of prayer\nwhich is very good in itself, and contains nothing contrary to\nCatholic doctrine.\n\nOn Tuesday, the 5th of April, Mr. Baker gave a letter of\nresignation to the vestry of St. Luke's Church, called on Dr.\nWyatt, who was the administrator of the diocese during the\nbishop's absence in Europe, and then went to see the archbishop.\nWhen he was admitted to the presence of this venerable and\nsaintly prelate, he threw himself on his knees before him, and in\naccents and words of the most profound humility made his\nsubmission to the Catholic Church, and implored him to receive\nhim into her bosom.\n{110}\nThe archbishop, who knew him well by sight and by reputation,\narose in haste from his chair to raise him from his knees, in a\nfew warm and affectionate words welcomed him to his embrace, and\nbegged him to be seated by his side and to calm himself. It was\nwith difficulty that he could induce him to do so, for the\nbarrier in his soul that had held it icebound for so long had\ngiven way: a torrent of repressed emotions was swelling in his\nbosom, and after a moment he burst into a flood of tears, the\ngentle and good archbishop weeping with him from sympathy. After\na long and consoling conversation with the archbishop, he came\nover to St. Alphonsus' Church, which is near the Cathedral, to\nsee me.\n\nI was making a retreat that day, and was walking in the garden,\nwhen a message was sent me by the rector to go to the parlor to\nsee Mr. Baker. As soon as he saw me, he said, abruptly, \"I have\ncome to be one of you.\" I invited him inside the inclosure, and\nhe, fancying I misunderstood his words to imply that he was ready\nto join our religious congregation, answered quickly, \"I do not\nmean that I wish to become a Redemptorist, but a Catholic.\" \"I\nunderstand that,\" I replied; \"let us go to the oratory and recite\na Te Deum of thanksgiving.\" We did so, and then walked in the\ngarden together for a short time. The first time I ever saw an\nexpression of real joyfulness in his countenance was then. He was\nalways placid, but never, so far as I could see, joyous, before\nhe became a Catholic. To my great surprise, he chose me as his\nconfessor. I left the time of his reception to himself, and he\nchose Saturday, the 9th of April, which was the anniversary of\nthe death of his brother Alfred. On Saturday morning, I said Mass\nin the little chapel of the Orphan Asylum of the Sisters of\nCharity. Father Hecker, who was present, on account of the\napproaching mission, accompanied me to the chapel. After Mass,\nMr. Baker made his profession, according to the old form,\ncontaining the full creed of Pius IV., and I received him into\nthe bosom of the Church.\n{111}\nNo others were present besides the good Sisters and their little\nchildren. He had been baptized by Dr. Wyatt, and the archbishop\ndecided that there was no reason whatever for his being\nconditionally rebaptized. I performed the supplementary rites of\nbaptism, such as the anointing with holy oil and chrism, the\ngiving of the white garment and lighted candle, etc., at his own\nrequest, in the sacristy of the Cathedral, after his sacramental\nconfession was completed. This sacred act was accomplished in the\narchbishop's library. During the week after his reception, and on\nthe Third Sunday after Easter, April 17, he was confirmed in the\nCathedral by Archbishop Kenrick, and received his first communion\nfrom his hand.\n\nThe conversion of Mr. Baker made a great sensation in Baltimore,\nand wherever he was known. It was announced in the secular\npapers, and for some weeks a lively controversy arising out of it\nwas kept up. It was the general topic of conversation in all\ncircles, Catholic and Protestant. The sorrow of his own\nparishioners, of those who had loved and honored him so much\nwhile he was connected with St. Paul's parish, and especially of\nhis more near and intimate friends, was very great. His own near\nrelatives, and a certain number of his intimate friends, never\nwere in the least alienated from him, but remained as closely\nbound to him in affection as ever, while they and he lived. The\ngreat majority of those who had been his admirers, and who had\nlistened with delight to his eloquent preaching, always retained\na great respect and esteem for him; and during his whole\nsubsequent life, he almost invariably won a regard from those of\nthe Protestant community who were acquainted with him, second\nonly to that of the Catholic people to whom he ministered. There\nwere some exceptions to this rule, however. A few persons wrote\nto him in the most severe and reproachful terms. The usual\npitiable charge, that his religious change was caused by mental\nderangement, was made by those whose wretched policy has always\nbeen to counteract as much as possible the influence of\nconversions to the Catholic Church by personal calumnies against\nthe converts.\n{112}\nHe was sometimes openly insulted, and much more frequently\ntreated with coldness and neglect. Notwithstanding the respect\nwith which so many still regarded him in their hearts, he was\ncompelled to feel that he had become, in great measure, an alien\nand a stranger in the community where he had been born and bred.\nIn a short time, his duty called him away from his native city,\nand, somewhat later, from his own State, into a distant part of\nthe country. All the old associations of his early life were\nbroken up; he had no longer an earthly home; and until his death\nhe had, for the most part, no other ties and associations except\nthose which were created by his religious profession and his\nsacerdotal office. Some six or seven persons were received into\nthe Church soon after his conversion, three or four of whom were\nhis parishioners; and some others may have been at a later period\npartly influenced by his example. But none of his intimate and\nparticular friends were among the number, with the exception of\nhis old and bosom friend and associate in the ministry, Mr.\nLyman. His name and influence faded away, and were forgotten\namong the things of the past; while he, having bidden farewell to\nthe world and taken up his cross, followed on after Christ,\ntoward the crown he was soon to win, and was lost to the view of\nthose among whom he had lived before, in the dust of the combat\nand labor of an arduous and obscure missionary career.\n\nIt is not to be supposed that Mr. Baker could hesitate long as to\nhis vocation. He had in his youth dedicated himself to the\nministry of Christ, but had mistaken a false claimant of\ndelegated power to confer the character and mission of the\npriesthood, for the true one. Nine years had been spent, not\nuselessly; for the good example and eloquent instructions of a\nwise and virtuous man are always salutary; and he had been slowly\npreparing himself by the feeble light and imperfect grace which\nhe had for the perfect gifts of the Catholic sacraments.\n{113}\nHe was now thirty-three years of age, in the full bloom of his\nnatural powers, with all his holy aspirations and purposes\nripened and perfected, with a thorough knowledge of Catholic\ntheology, excepting only its specially technical and professional\nbranches, with all the habits suited for a sacerdotal life fully\nestablished. The only doubt of his vocation in his own mind was\none of humility, and when this was settled by the decision of his\nconfessor and of his bishop, his course was clear before him. He\nmight still have chosen to remain in his own home and family\nwhile preparing for ordination. He might have remained in his\nnative city, or in the diocese, as a secular priest, secure of\nthe most honorable and agreeable position which the archbishop\ncould bestow upon him, where he could have enjoyed all those\ndomestic comforts and elegancies to which he was accustomed,\ntogether with the society of the beloved members of his family\nwho still remained, without in any way interfering with his\nproposed career as a devoted priest. He chose differently,\nhowever, and from the promptings of his own soul, which\ninstinctively chose what was most perfect. My religious brethren\nand myself used no solicitations to induce him to join us. His\noriginal desire for the religious life gave him a bias toward the\nregular clergy. What he saw of the little band of American\nRedemptorists, and of the mission which was given at the\nCathedral, captivated his heart with a desire to become one of\ntheir number. He thought of one thing only--what was the will of\nGod, and the most perfect way open to him to sanctify himself and\nothers in the priesthood. His mind was soon made up on this\npoint. He applied to the Father Provincial of the Redemptorists,\nwho received him without hesitation. He settled his affairs as\nspeedily as possible, and began his novitiate at once. As soon as\nthe proper time arrived, he divested himself of all his property\nfor the benefit of the surviving members of his family. His\nlibrary he gave to the congregation, by whom it was afterward\nkindly restored to him, and is now in the possession of the\nPaulists at New York.\n{114}\nHis only aim and desire, from this time forward, was to acquire\nthe perfection of Christian and religious virtue. Forgetting all\nthat was behind, he pressed forward to those things which were\nbefore, with a fixed aim and a steady, unfaltering step. He\ndropped into the position of a novice and a student so easily,\nand with such a perfectness of humility, that it seemed his\nnatural and obvious place to be among the youths and young men\nwho were with him. He was the favorite and companion of the\nyoungest among them, and, it is needless to say, the delight and\nconsolation of his superiors. After one year of novitiate and his\nprofession, he continued for two years more studying dogmatic and\nmoral theology, with the other accessories usually taught to\ncandidates for orders. During this time he lost his amiable and\nexcellent sister, Elizabeth Baker, to his great sorrow. Although\nhis ordination was postponed much longer than is usually the case\nwith men in his position, already so well prepared by their\nprevious intellectual and moral training for the priesthood, he\nwas not in the least impatient at the delay, and his long\npreparation gave him the advantage that he was ready at once to\nundertake all the most difficult and responsible duties of a\nmatured and experienced priest. Besides this, he acquired that\nthorough and minute theoretical and practical knowledge of the\nceremonies of the Church, and of every thing relating to the\ndivine service of the altar and the sanctuary, for which he was\nafterward distinguished. He came out of his long retirement a\nworkman thoroughly and completely furnished for his task, and\nimbued through and through with the spirit of the Catholic\nChurch. I seldom saw him, and never exchanged letters with him,\nduring all this period, each of us being absorbed in his own\nparticular duties and occupations, at a distance from the other.\nAs the time of his ordination approached, we were both of us,\nhowever, again in the same House, that of St. Alphonsus, in\nBaltimore.\n{115}\nIt was in the summer of 1856 that he finished his studies, and,\nhaving some time before received the minor orders, began his\nretreat preparatory to being admitted to the three holy orders.\nDuring the retreat, his companion, F. Vogien, an amiable and holy\nyoung religious--with him and the saintly prelate who ordained\nthem, now, I trust, in heaven--was full of dread and\napprehension, often weeping, and even entreating his superior to\npostpone his ordination. With Father Baker it was otherwise.\nWhile I was in the church, during the evening, employed in the\nexercises of my own retreat, I often heard him singing the most\njoyful of the ecclesiastical chants in the garden, and his\nplacid, pale face was lighted up with the radiant joy of a Soul\napproaching to the consummation of its holiest and most cherished\nwishes. He was ordained sub-deacon and deacon in St. Mary's\nChapel during the week before the Sunday fixed for his ordination\nto the priesthood. On Sunday, September 21, 1856, he was ordained\npriest by Archbishop Kenrick, in the Cathedral. The Archbishop\ncelebrated Pontifical Mass, the reverend gentlemen and\nseminarists from St. Sulpice assisted, and the clergy were\npresent in considerable numbers, among them his old friend, Mr.\nLyman, already a priest. Everyone who knows what the Cathedral of\nBaltimore is, and how the grand ceremonies of the Church are\nperformed in it, will understand how beautiful and inspiring was\nthe scene at Father Baker's ordination. The great church was\ncrowded to its utmost capacity, but it was by Catholics only,\ndrawn by the desire to see one who had sacrificed so much for\ntheir own dear faith. Father Baker, as he knelt with his\ncompanion at a priedieu, dressed in rich and beautiful white\nvestments, after receiving the indelible character of the\npriesthood, to offer up with the Archbishop the Holy Sacrifice of\nthe Mass, looked more like an angel than a man.\n{116}\nThe holy and benignant prelate shed tears of joyful emotion when\nhe embraced him at the close of the ceremony, and there was never\na more delightful reunion than that which took place on that day,\nwhen the clergy met at the archbishop's table, to participate in\nthe modest festivities of the episcopal mansion. A few days\nafter, Mr. Lyman, Father Baker, and Myself, celebrated a solemn\nVotive Mass of Thanksgiving at St. Alphonsus' Church, for the\nsignal grace we had received, in being all brought to the\ncommunion of the Holy Church and to her priesthood.\n\nHere began the sacerdotal career, brief in time, but rich in\nlabors and results, of Father Baker. He remained in Baltimore a\nfew weeks, to celebrate his first Mass, and initiate himself in\nquiet retirement into his new priestly life and functions. The\nfirst fruit of his new priesthood was a convert to the Catholic\nChurch, a young widow lady of highly respectable family, who was\nbred a Unitarian, and who had been waiting three years to be\nreceived into the Church by Father Baker. He baptized her and her\ntwo children, a few days after his own ordination. Soon after he\nbegan the missionary career, in which the greatest part of his\nsubsequent life was employed.\n\nIt may not here be amiss to digress from the personal history of\nFather Baker, long enough to give some account of the nature of\nthose missions in which he was henceforth to take so conspicuous\na part, and of their introduction into this country. In doing so,\nI shall describe more particularly the method adopted in those\nmissions with which I have been myself connected, without\nnoticing any others which may differ in certain details; and this\nwill suffice to give a correct idea of all missions, so far as\ntheir general spirit and scope is concerned.\n\nMissions to the Catholic people have been in use for centuries in\nvarious parts of Europe. They are generally given by the members\nof religious congregations specially devoted to the work. The\nmissionaries are invited by the pastor of the parish, with the\nsanction of the bishop of the diocese from whom they receive\ntheir jurisdiction.\n{117}\nThe exercises of the mission consist of a regular series of\nsermons and instructions, continued for a number of days, and\nsometimes for two weeks in succession, twice or oftener in the\nday. The course of instructions, which is given at an early hour\nof the morning, embraces familiar and plain but solid and\ndidactic expositions of the commandments, sacraments, and\npractical Christian and moral duties. The course of sermons,\ngiven at night, includes the great truths which relate to the\neternal destiny of man, which are presented in the most thorough\nand exhaustive manner possible, and enforced with all the power\nwith which the preacher is endowed. Several of Father Baker's\nmission sermons are included in the collection published in this\nvolume, and will serve to exhibit their peculiar style and\ncharacter. Frequently, the older children receive separate\ninstruction for about four days in succession, closing with a\ngeneral confession and communion. After the mission has continued\na few days, the confessionals are opened to the people, and\ncommunion is given every morning to those who are prepared to\nreceive. At the close of the mission the altar is decorated with\nflowers and lights, a baptismal font is erected, the people renew\ntheir baptismal vows after an appropriate sermon has been\npreached, and are dismissed with a parting benediction. The\nsacrifice of the Mass is offered up several times every morning,\naccording to the number of priests present; and before the\nevening sermon there is a short prefatory exercise, which, in the\nPaulist Missions, consists of the explanation of an article of\nthe Creed, followed by the Litany of the Saints. After sermon,\nthe _Miserere_ or some other appropriate piece is sung, and\nthe benediction of the Blessed Sacrament is given.\n\nAll this is very simple, consisting of nothing more than the\npreaching of the Word of God, the administration of the\nsacraments, and the performance of acts of worship and prayer, as\nthese are ordinarily practised in the regular routine of the\nCatholic Church.\n{118}\nAll that is peculiar and unusual consists in the adaptation of\nthe preaching and instructions to the end in view, and in the\ndaily continuity of the exercises. The object aimed at is to\npresent in one complete view all the principal truths of\nreligion, and all the essential practical rules for living\nvirtuously in conformity with those truths, and to do this in the\nmost comprehensive, forcible, and intelligible manner. The class\nof persons for whose benefit missions are primarily intended is\nthat portion of the Catholic people least influenced by the\nordinary ministrations of the parochial clergy, although all\nclasses, even the best instructed and most regular, share in the\nbenefit. All necessary available means are used to awaken an\ninterest in the mission and to secure attendance. When this is\ndone, continuous daily listening to instruction and participation\nin religious exercises prevents the impressions received from\npassing away, the people become more and more interested and\nabsorbed, and are carried through a process of thought and\nreflection upon all the most momentous truths and doctrines,\nwhich is for them equivalent to a thorough education of the mind\nand conscience. The general instructions given in public are\napplied to the individual soul by the confessor in the tribunal\nof penance, as the judge of guilty and the physician of diseased\nand wounded consciences. Sin and guilt are washed away by\nsacramental absolution from all who are sincerely penitent; their\nsouls, purified and restored to grace, are refreshed and\nstrengthened by the Body and Blood of Christ in the Holy\nEucharist, and the debt of temporal punishment due to the justice\nof God is removed or lightened, in proportion to the intensity of\ncontrition and divine love excited in the soul by its own efforts\nto secure the grace of God, through the indulgences conceded by\nthe supreme power of the Vicar of Christ.\n\n{119}\n\nThe earlier sermons are directed to the end of fixing the mind on\nthe supreme importance of religion, and alarming the conscience\nin regard to sin. Afterward, special vices are denounced,\nparticular dangers and temptations pointed out, those duties\nwhich are most neglected are brought out into bold relief, and\nevery effort made to produce a thorough reformation of life.\nToward the close, the scope and aim of the sermons are to animate\nand encourage the heart and will by appealing to the nobler\npassions and the higher motives, to awaken confidence in God, to\nportray the eternal rewards of virtue and point out the means of\nperseverance. All that can impress the senses and imagination,\nsubdue the heart, convince the reason, and stimulate the will, is\nbrought to bear, in conjunction with the supernatural efficacy of\nthe word and sacraments of Christ, upon a people full of faith\nand religious susceptibility, under the most favorable\ncircumstances for producing the greatest possible effect. Where\nfaith is impaired, the effect is not so certain, and slower and\nmore tedious means have to be adopted, with less hope of success,\nto restore the dying root of all religion, or replant it where it\nis completely dead. It is moreover certain, although it may not\nbe evident to those who are destitute of Catholic faith, that\nthere is an extraordinary grace of God accompanying the exercises\nof the mission; and this was so plain to the mind of an earnest\nEpiscopalian clergyman in New England, on one occasion, that it\nled him to study seriously the subject of the Catholic Church,\nthe result of which was that he became a Catholic, at a great\npersonal sacrifice.\n\nPublic retreats had been given from time to time in the United\nStates, by the Jesuits and others, before the series of\nRedemptorist Missions was commenced. This series, which began at\nSt. Joseph's Church, New York, in April, 1851, was, however, the\nfirst that was systematically and regularly carried on by a band\nof missionaries especially devoted to the work. Since that time,\nthe number of missionaries, belonging to several distinct\ncongregations, has increased, and the missions have been\nmultiplied.\n{120}\nThe principal merit of inaugurating this great and extensive work\nbelongs to F. Bernard Hafkenscheid, who was formerly the\nProvincial of the Redemptorist Congregation in the United States.\nF. Bernard, as he was always called, on account of his\nunpronounceable patronymic, had been for twenty years the most\neloquent and successful preacher of missions in his native\ncountry of Holland and the adjacent Low Countries. Born to the\npossession of wealth and all its attendant advantages, but still\nmore blessed with a most thorough religious training and the\ngrace of early piety from his childhood, he received a finished\necclesiastical education, which he completed at Rome, where he\nwas honored with the doctorate in theology. After his ordination,\nhe devoted himself to the religious and missionary life in the\nCongregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, in which he speedily\nbecame the most eminent of all their preachers in the Low\nCountries. He was able to preach the word of God with fluency and\ncorrectness in three languages, besides his native tongue:\nFrench, German, and English. But it was only in the Dutch\nlanguage that he was able to exhibit the extraordinary powers of\neloquence with which he was endowed, and which made his name a\nhousehold word in every Catholic family in Holland. His picture\nwas to be seen in every house; the highest and lowest flocked\nwith equal eagerness to hear him, and, on one occasion, the king\nhimself came to the convent to testify his respect for his\napostolic character by a formal visit. His figure and countenance\nwere cast in a mould as large as that of his great and generous\nsoul, and his whole character and bearing were those of a man\nborn to lead and command others by his innate superiority, but to\ncommand far more by the magnetic influence of a kind and noble\nheart than by authority. Father Bernard brought with him to the\nUnited States, in March, 1851, two American Redemptorists, who\nhad been stationed for some years in England, and had scarcely\nlanded in New York when he organized a band of missionaries, to\ncommence the English missions.\n{121}\nDuring nearly two years, he took personal charge of many of those\nmissions, working in the confessional from twelve to sixteen\nhours every day, occasionally preaching when the ordinary\npreacher broke down, and instructing the young, inexperienced\nfathers most carefully in all the methods of giving sermons and\ninstructions, and otherwise conducting the exercises of the\nmission in the best and most judicious manner. Father Bernard\nreceived Father Baker into the congregation, but soon afterward\nwas recalled to Europe, where, after a long and laborious life\nspent in the sacred warfare, he is resting in the quiet repose\nand peace of religions seclusion. [Footnote 4]\n\n    [Footnote 4: Since the above was written, the news has been\n    received of the death of Father Bernard, from the effects of\n    a fall while descending from the pulpit.]\n\nThe superior of the English Missions, in the absence of F.\nBernard, and after he ceased to direct them personally, was\nanother Father with an unpronounceable name, F. Alexander\nCvitcovicz, a Magyar, who was always called Father Alexander. It\nwould have been impossible to find a superior more completely\nfitted for the position. Although he was even then past the\nmeridian of life, and had been in former times the\nSuperior-General of his Congregation in the United States, he\ncheerfully took on himself the hardest labors of the missions. It\nwas not unusual for him to sit in his confessional for ten days\nin succession, for fifteen or sixteen hours each day. He\ninstructed the little children who were preparing for the\nsacraments, and sometimes gave some of the morning instructions,\nbut never preached any of the great sermons. In his government of\nthe fathers who were under him, he was gentleness, consideration,\nand indulgence itself. In his own life and example, he presented\na pattern of the most perfect religious virtue, in its most\nattractive form--without constraint, austerity, or moroseness,\nand yet without relaxation from the most strict ascetic\nprinciples.\n{122}\nHe was a thoroughly accomplished and learned man in many branches\nof secular and sacred science and in the fine arts; and in the\nGerman language, which was as familiar to him as his native\nlanguage, he was among the best preachers of his order. He\ndesigned and built the beautiful Church of St. Alphonsus, in\nBaltimore, although he was never able to complete it according to\nhis own just and elegant taste. For such a man to take upon\nhimself the drudgery of laborious missions, aided, for the most\npart, by young men in delicate health, incapable of enduring the\nhardships of old, well-seasoned veterans, was indeed a trial of\nhis virtue. He undertook it, however, cheerfully, and we went\nthrough several long and hard missionary campaigns under his\ndirection, until at last we left him, in the year 1854, in the\nconvent at New Orleans, worn out with labor, to exchange his\narduous missionary work for the lighter duties of the parish.\nFather Alexander was succeeded in the office of Superior of\nEnglish Missions by Father Walworth, one of the American\nRedemptorists, who accompanied Father Bernard from England, and\nwho continued in that office until, with several others, he was\nreleased from his connection with the congregation by a brief of\nthe Holy Father, in order to form a new society of missionaries.\n\nThere has never been a finer field open to missions than the one\nwhich is found in the Catholic population of the United States,\nand seldom has there existed a greater need of them. The missions\nof St. Alphonsus Liguori, the founder of the Redemptorists, and\nhis companions, were confined to villages, hamlets, and outlying\ndistricts, remote from episcopal cities and large towns. In his\nrules he directs his children to labor in places of this sort,\nbecause in Italy the most neglected and necessitous part of the\npeople is only to be found there. In this country it was not so.\nThe great need for missions lay in cities and large towns, where\ndense masses of Catholics were gathered, and where churches,\nclergy, and religious organizations of all kinds, were inadequate\nto the spiritual wants of the people.\n{123}\nA large part of the missionary work which has been accomplished\nhas been, therefore, among those dense masses of the people in\nour largest churches and congregations, penetrating to the lowest\nstrata, and bringing to bear a powerful religious influence upon\nthe most uninstructed and negligent classes of the people. Some\nidea of the extent of this work may be gained from the fact that\nthe missions given by the corps which F. Bernard organized,\nduring seven years, from 1851 to 1858, were eighty-six in number,\nwith an aggregate of 166,000 communions. They have been carried\non on a similar scale, since that time, by the new Congregation\nof St. Paul, and by members of several older religious societies;\nso that, in the last seven years, the number of persons who have\nparticipated in the benefits of missions is, probably, nearly\ndouble the figures given above. There were other missions also\ngiven, during the first period, besides those enumerated,\nespecially among Germans. It is, therefore, speaking within\nbounds to estimate the number of persons who have received the\nsacraments on missions, since 1851, at 500,000.\n\nThis is, however, much less than might have been done, if the\nnumber of missionaries and the facilities for attending their\nmissions had been greater. Our Catholic population is a vast sea,\nwhere the successors of the apostolic fishers of men may cast\ntheir nets perpetually, without ever exhausting its abundance. In\nlarge towns, the population is so fluctuating and so continually\nincreasing, that the work needs to be perpetually renewed at\nshort intervals. There are also immense difficulties in the way\nof the poor people. The mass of them belong to the laboring\nclass, and are, therefore, obliged to come to church very early,\nbefore their working hours, and again at night, after their work\nis done. They have no leisure, and can with difficulty rescue\neven the few hours necessary for listening to the instructions\nthey so much need. Hence, many of them can get only as it were by\nsnatches, here and there, a sermon or instruction during the\ncourse. In factory towns the case is worse.\n{124}\nWere it not for the accommodation usually granted by the\noverseers, in shortening the time, and giving leave of absence,\nit would be impossible to give missions to the operatives in many\nof our factory villages. Our modern system of society leaves out\nof the account the wants of the soul and the duties of religion.\nFor many, there is even the hard necessity of working all night,\nand all Sunday. It is, therefore, difficult enough for our poor\npeople to attend a mission well, when there is plenty of room for\nthem in the church, and a good chance of going to confession\nwithout waiting longer than a few hours. Very frequently,\nhowever, in our large and overcrowded parishes, the church will\nnot hold--even when crowded to suffocation--more than from\none-fourth to one-half of the parishioners. The church is\nfrequently filled two hours before the time of service. The\nporch, the steps, the windows even, are crowded, and hundreds go\na way disappointed. It is easy to see what a drawback this is to\nthe success of a mission, which requires a continuous attendance\nat all the sermons and instructions, and to the stillness and\norder in the church which are necessary to enable all to hear\ndistinctly, and to reflect on what they hear. I have seen at\nleast four thousand persons congregated in the streets adjacent\nto the New York Cathedral, besides the crowd inside.\n\nAnother difficulty lies in the vast number of penitents, and the\nsmall number of confessors. On many missions, confined strictly\nto one parish, there have been from four thousand to eight\nthousand communions; and, of course, that number of confessions\nto be heard within eleven days. At a recent mission of the\nRedemptorists, in New York, there were eleven thousand\ncommunions; and at one given a year or two ago, by the Jesuits,\ntwenty thousand. Ordinarily, the number of confessors has been\ninadequate to the work. The people have thronged the chapel where\nconfessions were heard, from four o'clock in the morning until\nnight, often waiting an entire day, or even several days, before\nthey could get near a priest.\n{125}\nAt five in the morning, each of us would see two long rows--one\nof men and one of women--seated on benches, flanking his\nconfessional. At one o'clock he would leave the same unbroken\nlines, to find them again at three, and to leave them in the\nevening still undiminished. At the end of the mission there would\nbe still the same crowd waiting about the confessionals, and left\nunheard, because the missionaries were unable to continue their\nwork any longer. More than one-half these people would be persons\nwho had not been at confession for five, ten, or twenty years,\nand of these a great number had seldom been at church, and still\nmore rarely heard a sermon. Hundreds upon hundreds of adults, of\nall ages, have received the sacraments for the first time upon\nthese missions, many of whom had to be taught the doctrines of\nthe Trinity and the Incarnation, with the other elementary\narticles of the Creed. I have several times, at the close of a\nmission, seen a row of grown-up boys seated before my\nconfessional, of that class who roam the streets, loiter about\nthe docks, and sleep out at night, unable to read, and scarcely\nable to tell who made them, much less to answer the question, Who\nis Jesus Christ? They had come to be instructed and prepared for\nthe sacraments, swept in by the tide which was moving the waters\nall around them. Of course, they needed weeks of instruction and\nof moral preparation, to rescue them from the abyss of ignorance\nand vice in which they were submerged, and make them capable of\nliving like rational beings and Christians. With some of them, a\nbeginning may be made, and the germ of good planted in their\nsouls. But many have to be left as they come, because there is no\nprovision which can be made for their instruction. In a word, the\nnets are so full of a multitude of fishes that they break, and\nthere are not workmen enough to drag them ashore. The work is too\noverwhelming for the number and strength of those who are engaged\nin it. In this respect, some missions which have been given in\nthe British provinces, have been the most complete and\nsatisfactory of any.\n{126}\nIn St. Patrick's Church, Quebec, the vast size of the building\nenabled all who desired to do so to find room. Nineteen\nconfessors were on duty, and others were appointed to instruct\nconverts or ignorant adult Catholics. All who wished to go to\nconfession were easily heard, without long waiting, or the\naccumulation of a great crowd of wearied and eager penitents\npressing around the confessionals. It was the same in St. John's,\nwhere the Archbishop of Halifax and a large body of clergymen\nwere hearing confessions constantly, although, even with this\npowerful aid, the missionaries broke down under the labor of\npreaching every day to six thousand or eight thousand persons in\nthe great Cathedral Church, which had just been opened for\nservice. In these places, however, the number of the people,\nthough great, had a limit which could be reached, and the\nrequisite number of priests were easily at the command of the\nbishop. In the United States, however, the work is out of all\nproportion to the number of priests who are either specially\ndevoted to missions or who can be called in to aid these in their\nlabors. The missionaries are too few to do the work alone, and\nthe parochial clergy are too much engaged in their own duties to\nbe able to give much of their time to additional works of\ncharity. If it were possible to give missions simultaneously in\nall the churches of New York City, and if they could contain all\nthe people, it would be easy to collect one hundred thousand\nCatholics together every night to hear the Word of God, and to\nbring from one hundred and fifty thousand to two hundred thousand\nto communion within fifteen days. In proportion to the\npopulation, the same results would be produced everywhere in the\nUnited States. It would require the labor of one hundred\nmissionaries, during eight years, to give missions thoroughly to\nour entire Catholic population. At their commencement, however,\nand for some years after, there were but six or eight, and there\nare now, probably, not more than twenty priests continually\nemployed in this work.\n{127}\nThe necessity for it is, nevertheless, quite as urgent as it ever\nhas been, and the benefit to be derived from it inconceivable.\nThere are the vast masses of people gathered in our great centers\nof population, exposed to a thousand demoralizing influences, and\nmost inadequately supplied with the ordinary means of grace. All\nthat has been done for them hitherto, is but just sufficient to\ndevelop the immense need there is for doing more, and the great\nblessing that attends every effort to do it. Of course, the main\nreliance of the Church is, and always must be, upon the bishops\nand parochial clergy, and I have not had the slightest intention,\nin any thing I have said, to exaggerate the importance of the\nspecial work of missionaries. The episcopate and priesthood were\nestablished by Jesus Christ Himself, and are absolutely essential\nto the very existence of the Church. Religious congregations are\nof ecclesiastical institution, and are only auxiliary to the\npastoral office. The multiplication of churches and of priests\nengaged in parochial duties is the most pressing need, and in no\nother way can the spiritual wants of the people be adequately\nprovided for. It will be long, however, before the bishops will\nbe able, even by the most strenuous exertions, to make the number\nof churches and clergymen keep pace with the increase of the\npopulation. Meanwhile, this lack of the ordinary means of grace\ncannot be supplied except by missions; and even where these means\nare amply provided, the subsidiary and extraordinary labors of\nsocieties of priests devoted to special apostolic works are\nnecessary, in order to give their full efficacy to the\nministrations of the ordinary pastors.\n\nBesides our great towns, and their dense mass of Catholic\npopulation, there is another extensive field of missionary work,\nwhich has of late years been successfully cultivated, and which\ninvites still further cultivation with a promise of a rich\nharvest.\n{128}\nI refer to the numerous new parishes found in the smaller cities\nand country towns and villages. Here a new phase of Catholic life\nand growth has commenced. The population is becoming settled and\npermanent. Catholics are making their way upward, acquiring real\nand personal property, blending with the body of their\nfellow-citizens, educating their children, and to a certain\nextent themselves belong to the second generation of Catholic\nemigrants from Europe, having been born and married in this\ncountry. In many instances, one pastor has two or more of these\nparishes to take care of. His time and thoughts are taken up with\nchurch-building and a multitude of other necessary duties. The\ncountry around is sprinkled over with Catholics, who have no\nresident priest among them. There is a vast amount of work to be\ndone in instructing, confirming in the faith, bringing under\nreligious and moral influence, and establishing in solid piety\nand morality, this interesting and hopeful class of Catholics.\nNowhere have the missions been so complete and satisfactory as in\nparishes of this kind. The whole body of the people living in the\nplace where the church is, can attend the sermons and receive the\nsacraments. Besides these, those living several miles away flock\nto the church as regularly as if they lived in the same street;\nand even from a great distance, numbers, who are usually deprived\nof the religious advantages of the Church, perhaps even have\ngrown up without making their first communion, seize the\nopportunity with eagerness to come to the mission and remain for\na few days, until they can be prepared to receive the sacraments\nof life. In Massachusetts alone, where congregations of this kind\nabound, the number of communions given in the Paulist Missions of\nthe last five years, without counting those given in Boston,\namounts to twenty-five thousand five hundred and thirty, on\nseventeen distinct missions, giving an average of one thousand\nthree hundred and twenty-five to each congregation. These figures\nare a correct index to the numbers of the Catholic population in\ncountry towns throughout Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York,\nPennsylvania, and other portions of the Northern States.\n\n{129}\n\nThe missions hitherto given have been intended immediately for\nthe benefit of the Catholic people. Their incidental influence\nupon the Protestant community ought not, however, to be\noverlooked. Usually, our Catholic churches are so crowded by the\nfaithful, that it is at least unpleasant, if not almost\nimpossible for others to attend our sermons, especially on\noccasions of great interest. Notwithstanding this obstacle,\nthousands of Protestants have come at different times to hear the\nmission sermons, and there have usually been several converts on\neach large mission, sometimes as many as twenty, and on one\nmission, that of Quebec, fifty. Hundreds have been received into\nthe Church, in this way, from all classes in society, among whom\nwere two clergymen holding respectable positions in the Episcopal\nChurch, which they gave up at a great worldly sacrifice. Besides\nactual conversions, a great effect has been produced in removing\nthe prejudices and gaining the good-will of the community at\nlarge. The secular papers have almost unanimously spoken\nfavorably of the missions. In many instances, the gentlemen and\nladies of the vicinity have sent the choicest flowers of their\ngardens and hot-houses, to decorate the altar and baptismal font.\nNot only laymen, but clergymen have often manifested a wish to\nshow kind and courteous attentions to the missionaries. Very\nseldom has any thing unpleasant occurred, or any annoyance been\nexperienced--much less, indeed, than is encountered by\nmissionaries in some other parts of the world from nominal\nCatholics. Employers have frequently lent their servants and\nwork-people the means of conveyance to the church, or exempted\nthem from a portion of their duties. It is impossible not to see\nhow rapidly and generally the prejudice against the Catholic\nreligion and the priesthood is melting away in this country. And\nthis seems to warrant the hope that the time may soon come, when\nthe faith may be preached to our separated brethren by means of\nmissions especially intended for them, with rich results.\n\n{130}\n\nThe favorable impression already so widely produced upon those\nwho have heard Catholic missionaries preach, proves how much we\nhave to hope for in this direction. This has caused, in one\ninstance, which seems to demand some notice, an attempt to\nobviate this effect, by representing our manner of preaching as\npart of an artful plan of Rome, to deceive the minds of the\npeople by presenting only a portion of the Catholic doctrine\nunder plausible colors. After several missions had been given in\nCambridge and Boston, where many Protestants of intelligence\nattended, and more would have willingly done so if there bad been\nroom for them, the rector of a Boston church, who was present\nseveral times, preached and published a lecture, in which he\nattempted to explain the real spirit and object of the Paulist\nCongregation, by which the missions were given. The extent of the\nimpression made is proved by the following passage in a note to\nthe lecture:--\n\n  \"One does not take pleasure in accumulating proofs that the\n  Papal superstition still retains its most deplorable features;\n  but as long as Protestant minds are imposed upon by the\n  superficial fallacy that it is parting with these features,\n  because its public speakers deliver admirable discourses, it\n  seems to be necessary. Undoubtedly, the order of Paulists, is\n  at present a very efficient arm of the Romish service in this\n  country. Men say, 'Whatever Hildebrand, and the Innocents, and\n  Torquemada may have done or said, _such preaching as this is\n  good for everybody_.'\" [Footnote 5]\n\n    [Footnote 5: The R. C. Principle: a \"Price Lecture,\" &c.\n    Boston. Dutton & Co. 1863 App., p. 39.]\n\nOn page 27 of the lecture, he says:\n\n  \"One of the latest developments in the policy of her\n  propagandism is the establishment in this country, with\n  head-quarters in our chief city, of a new missionary order.\n{131}\n  The Paulists are the itinerants and revivalists of that\n  _shrewd mother of adaptabilities_, who, in becoming all\n  things to all men and to all women, saw a chance in America for\n  reaping, not so much in the field where her own fathers, like\n  Marquette and Rasles, as where Whitfield and Maffit had sown.\"\n\nThroughout the lecture, the aim of the author is to show that the\nsound and practical preaching of the eternal truths of religion,\nwhich he is forced himself to admire, and which was so much\nadmired by many others, is nothing but an illusive pretence,\nwhich throws a deceitful halo over a system of superstitious\nformalism.\n\nI have not introduced this topic for the sake of a theological\nargument, but merely in view of vindicating the reputation of F.\nBaker, whose sermons at Cambridge made the principal impression\nwhich the lecture was intended to obviate, and forestalling a\nprejudice which might cast a shade over the discourses which are\npublished in this volume.\n\nThe author of this lecture, who has been my personal friend for\nthirty years, and who wrote to me on the occasion of its\npublication to express his hope that it might not interrupt our\nfriendship, and all the Protestants who may peruse these pages,\nespecially those who know me, will admit that I am both competent\nto explain what Catholic doctrine is, and incapable of practising\nany dissimulation on the subject. Those who knew F. Baker, or who\nmay learn to know him from reading this volume, will also\nacknowledge that his high-toned mind was incapable of yielding to\nany system of driveling superstition, and his chivalrous spirit\nof descending to any system of artful deception by paltering with\nwords in a double sense. I ask them, therefore, not, to accept\nCatholic doctrine as true on our authority, but simply to believe\nthat the testimony I give as to the doctrine we have embraced and\npreached, and our views and intentions in giving missions, is\ntrue; and that the doctrine, contained in the discourses of this\nvolume, is a veritable exposition of the true Catholic faith.\n\n{132}\n\nThe missions were commenced and have been carried on for the\npurpose of benefiting the Catholic people. The sermons and\ninstructions have been the same, in doctrine and practical aims,\nwith those which were given in Italy and other purely Catholic\ncountries for centuries past. The congregation of Paulists was\nnot established by any act of the hierarchy here, or of the\nsupreme authority at Rome. It was formed by F. Baker and three\nother American converts, in consequence of certain unforeseen\ncircumstances, and without any previous deliberate plan, with a\nsimple approbation from an archbishop, and a mere recognition of\nthe validity of that approbation on the part of Rome. Not a word\nof instruction or direction as to the manner of preaching, or the\nend to be aimed at in our labors, has ever been given by\nauthority, but the movement has been the spontaneous act of the\nfew individuals who began it. It is our desire, as it must be\nthat of every Catholic priest, to bring as many persons as\npossible to the Catholic faith and into the bosom of the Catholic\nChurch. We intend, therefore, to make use of all the means and\nopportunities in our power to present the faith and the Church to\nour non-Catholic countrymen, and to promote as much as possible\nthe conversion of the American people. The Catholic Church has\nthe mission to convert the whole world, and intends to fulfil it;\nand any Catholic priest who does not endeavor to do his share of\nthe work, is recreant to the high obligations of his office. We\nintend to do our part, however, in promoting this great end, not\nby artifice or dissimulation, not by secret intrigues or plots,\nby fraud or violence, by undermining or attacking the civil and\nreligious liberty enjoyed by all our citizens in common, but by\nargument and persuasion, by exhibiting the Church in her beauty,\nby prayer and good example, and by the grace of God: We have no\nreserves in regard either to our doctrine or our intentions, no\nesoteric and exoteric teaching. We present the Church and the\nfaith as they always have been, in all times and places, one,\nuniversal, and immutable, in all their essential parts.\n{133}\nWhat the Church and her doctrine are is ascertainable by all who\nwill take pains to inform themselves, and it would be impossible\nfor us to conceal it if we were so disposed. All that we have to\nfear on this head is ignorance of the real truth concerning our\nprinciples, and the misrepresentation of them by those whose\nknowledge of them is superficial. The author of this lecture is\none of this latter class, and has hastily and without due\nexamination put forth his own impressions of our doctrines and\npractices, with which he is so completely unacquainted as not\neven to perceive that there is any thing in them which requires\nany careful study or thought.\n\nHe says, p. 28: \"I have heard several of these mission sermons\npreached. Most of them would undoubtedly be a _surprise_,\nand an agreeable one, to Protestant ears. There was a sermon on\n'future punishment,' without one allusion to Purgatory.\" The\nsermon was on _Hell_, not on the whole subject of Future\nPunishment. We follow the laws of logic and rhetoric in our\nsermons, and confine ourselves strictly to the topic in hand;\nexcluding all irrelevant matter. Any one who is surprised at a\nsermon like this, shows that he is entirely ignorant of the\npublished sermons of our great preachers. One who supposes that\nthe place of punishment for those Catholics who have sinned\ngrievously, and have not truly repented before death, is\nPurgatory, is entirely ignorant of Catholic theology. \"There was\na sermon on 'Mortal Sins,' with scarcely a reference to\nabsolution.\" For the same reason given above, that the preacher\nstuck to his subject, and the instructions on the Sacrament of\nPenance were given in the morning. \"There was another, on the\n'Close of Life,' which, from beginning to end, went to prove, in\nlanguage that must have scorched every conscience not seared that\nlistened to it--_contrary to all the common Protestant\nimpressions of Romish instruction_--that there is no efficacy\nwhatever in any or all of the Seven Sacraments _to save a\nwicked Roman Catholic from perdition._\"\n{134}\nIndeed! Then these common impressions are all incorrect. The\nproposition which excites so much surprise is nothing but the\ncommonest truism, familiar to every child that has learned the\ncatechism. To admit, however, that the lecturer found himself to\nhave been always mistaken, and Protestants generally to have been\nunder the same mistake concerning Catholic teaching, would have\nbeen fatal. He has no such intention. There is couched, under the\nlanguage of praise which he gives to the sermon, a concealed\naccusation that the doctrine of the sermons does not really mean\nwhat it seems, and that the old Protestant prejudice against\n\"Romish instruction\" is, after all, correct. This concealed arrow\nis launched in the next paragraph: \"_Supposing the fundamental\nfalsehood, as a whole, to stand unchallenged_, hardly any\naddresses can be conceived more admirably effective to a\npractical and useful end in the lives of the people.\" That is to\nsay, there is a fundamental falsehood which destroys their\nadmirable effectiveness to a practical and useful end. The\nlecturer is making out a case against us, and preparing an\nindictment which shall destroy the good impression we have made\non Protestant hearers. He prepares the way by ridiculing the\nceremonies of Catholic worship.\n\n\"But at just that point not only all praise, but all sympathy\nstops short. To say nothing of the dreary array of public\npantomime and incantation, sprinkling and fumigation, pasteboard\nsanctities and materialistic adoration, which followed, and which\ngive one a sense of momentary mortification at being a spectator\nat such a mixed piece of impiety and absurdity,\" &c.\n\nThe point at which the lecturer is aiming here clearly comes in\nview. All that is spiritual in our sermons, and that seems to\ninculcate a real and solid piety and virtue, is mere talk, or\nlike the one genuine watch which the mock auctioneer passes\naround with his pinchbeck counterfeits, to deceive his dupes the\nbetter.\n{135}\nAfter a show of pure, spiritual doctrine, to furnish \"a surprise,\nand an agreeable one, to Protestant ears,\" the poor Catholics are\nimposed upon with a set of outward shows and a routine of\nsuperstitious observances, which they are taught to believe will\nact upon them by a kind of magic charm, and secure them from\nreceiving any damage to their souls and their future prospects\nfrom their sins.\n\nThe religious services which the reverend lecturer witnessed on\nthe occasion referred to, consisted of the psalm _Miserere_,\nchanted by the choir, the hymn _Tantum Ergo_, and the\nBenediction of the Blessed Sacrament. What is designated by the\nterms \"pantomime and incantation\" I am at a loss to conjecture.\nThe \"fumigation\" was the burning of incense, which was also had\nat the High Mass recently celebrated in Trinity Chapel by F.\nAgapius. I think, also, that I have read in the Old Testament\nsomething about censers and incense having been prescribed by the\nAlmighty to be used in the \"pantomimes and incantations\" of the\nJewish ritual. \"Pasteboard sanctities\" puzzled me for a long\ntime. I suppose it refers to the pictures blessed at one of the\nmorning instructions, which the lecturer has confounded with the\nevening sermon.\n\n\"There were yet, beyond all that, as one pondered, appalling\nabsences from the teaching, and more fearful elements included.\"\nThese strong epithets prepare us now to await the final and\ntelling blow. First, the \"appalling absences\" are specified. \"Can\nthat be the true preaching of 'the Word' where the language of\nthat Word so seldom enters in?\" The reader is requested to look\nover a few of the sermons in this volume, and count the\nscriptural texts. \"Could that be the true preaching of 'Christ,\nand Him crucified,' where any mention of the simple gospel story\nwas almost systematically shut out?\" A mere _ad captandum_\nobjection. If the lecturer had heard the Creed explained\nthroughout, he would have heard the mystery of redemption\nexplained in its proper place. The reader is again referred to\nthe sermons of this volume for a more complete answer to this\naspersion.\n{136}\nNow Come the \"more fearful elements.\" These are the merit of good\nworks, the scapular, indulgences, transubstantiation, auricular\nconfession, purgatory, and devotion to the Blessed Virgin and\nSaints. The gist of the whole is contained in the following\nsentence:--\n\n\"Every system must be judged by its weaknesses and its errors,\nnot merely by its better traits. They say in mechanics that the\nstrength of a complicated piece of machinery is equal only to the\nstrength of its weakest part. This is as true in a scheme of\njustification as in dynamics. _Offer human nature, at its own\noption, various ways of securing salvation_, and not more\ncertainly will water seek the lowest spot than men will settle\ndown to the inferior methods of escaping the pains of perdition.\"\n\nWhat is the point of this observation? Evidently this: That we\npropose one way of salvation, by a truly holy life; and another\nway, in which, without the trouble of leading a holy life, one\nmay save himself by a few outward observances, a mere confession\nof the lips, without contrition or amendment, reciting\nindulgenced prayers, wearing the scapular, &c. Consequently, only\na few, who are of the nobler sort, will take the route of virtue\nand spiritual religion, while the mass will go on indulging\nthemselves in all the sins to which they are inclined, and\ncompound for them on the easiest terms they can make. Now,\nsupposing this to be true, it recoils with all its force upon the\none who uttered it. The whole doctrine of his lecture denies all\nmerit to holiness and virtue, and ascribes justification solely\nto the personal holiness and virtue of Christ, which is\nappropriated by a naked act of faith. This is the Lutheran\ndoctrine, and there cannot be a lower spot for men to settle down\nto, or an easier way for dispensing oneself from every thing that\nis painful and self-denying in the religion of the Cross. The\nauthor himself accuses (on p. 21 et seq.) nine-tenths of the New\nEngland Protestants of having slid down to such a low point that\nthey are as bad as Romanists:--\n\n{137}\n\n\"The first question put by about nine New Englanders out of ten,\nwhen they are urged to any particular religious duty, is whether\nit is necessary to their salvation, i.e. whether they shall be\npaid for doing it. It is essentially a Romish question.\n\n  * * *\n\nPoint to their censorious tongues, their narrow judgments, their\ncontempt of the Lord's poor, their unlovely temper, their social\nand partisan prejudices, their mean dealings in business, their\nphysical and religious selfishness: they give you to understand\n_that sometime since they got into the ark--why should they be\nfurther converted?_\" Why should they, indeed, according to\nLuther and Calvin? Once obtain the imputation of the merits of\nChrist, by faith, and you have a full absolution for both the\npast, the present, and the future, without confession or penance;\nyou have an inalienable right to the fruits of redemption without\nsacrifice or sacrament; you have a perfect righteousness and a\nright to an eternal reward without good works or merits; you have\na plenary indulgence without even repeating \"a prayer of six\nlines,\" or attending a mission; and you will go to heaven, not on\nthe Saturday, but on the instant after your decease, without a\nscapular. Even the few little things that we exact from our poor,\nsimple followers, as a price for heaven, are dispensed with.\n\"_Not more surely will water seek the lowest spot_, than men\nwill settle down to the inferior methods of escaping the pains of\nperdition.\" Let the Catholic priest tell them that they must\nprofess the faith and enter the communion of the one true Church,\nat whatever sacrifice of pride, position, property, or friends,\nand they will find some inferior method of saving their souls and\nkeeping this world--if they can. Let him tell them that they must\nconfess every mortal sin, and they will settle down to some\ninferior method of obtaining pardon--if they can find one.\n{138}\nLet him tell them that they must do penance, fast, abstain, give\nalms, mortify their passions, keep the commandments, work out\ntheir salvation, _and, if they would be perfect, sell all and\nfollow Christ_, like him whose doctrine the author attempts to\ncriticise, and they will settle down to some inferior method--if\nthey can persuade themselves that it is at their option to do so.\n\n\"What avails it,\" the lecturer goes on to say, \"that the\npreaching priest tells the congregation that sacraments and\nsaints will not save them, and omits to mention the confessional,\nif the confessing priest tells them, as he does in this 'book'\nwhich he puts into their hands, quoting from the 'Roman\nCatechism,' that almost all the piety, holiness, and fear of God,\nwhich, through the Divine mercy, are to be found in Christendom,\nare owing to sacramental confession?\" (Pp. 30, 31.) The priest\n_does not omit_ to mention the confessional, but let this\npass. If there is any meaning in this query, it is, leaving aside\nthe question about the prayers of saints, that it is of no avail\nto preach the necessity of inward renovation and holiness, if\n\"sacraments\" are taught to be the necessary means of grace. Yet\nthe lecturer quotes, on p. 25, a Homily of the Church of England,\nwhich says that we obtain \"grace and remission, as well of our\noriginal sin in baptism [what! saved by 'sprinkling?'] as of all\nactual sin committed by us after our baptism, if we truly repent\nand turn unfeignedly to Him again.\" The same Church of England\nproposes also, at the option of human nature, along with the\nmethod of repenting by yourself, without extrinsic aid, the\nfollowing \"inferior method,\" by the confessional, which is pretty\nstrongly urged on the sick man, as the best of the two. \"Here\nshall the sick person be moved to make a special confession of\nhis sins, if he feel his conscience troubled with any weighty\nmatter. After which confession, the priest shall absolve him (if\nhe humbly and heartily desire it) after this sort: Our Lord Jesus\nChrist, Who hath left power to His Church to absolve all sinners\nwho truly repent and believe in Him, of his great mercy forgive\nthee thine offences: And by His authority committed to me, _I\nabsolve thee from all thy sins_: In the Name of the Father,\nand of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.\"\n\n{139}\n\nLet us turn to the Catechism of the Church of England, and we\nshall find a little more about \"sacraments,\" and particularly the\nHoly Communion.\n\n  \"Qu.--What meanest thou by this word _Sacrament?_\n  A.--I mean an outward and visible sign of an inward and\n  spiritual grace given unto us, ordained by Christ Himself,\n  _as a means whereby we receive the same_, and a pledge to\n  assure us thereof.\n\n  Qu.--How many parts are there in a Sacrament?\n  A.--Two: the outward visible sign, and the inward spiritual\n  grace.\n\n  Qu.--What is the outward part or sign of the Lord's Supper?\n  A.--Bread and wine, which the Lord bath commanded to be\n  received.\n\n  Qu.--What is the inward part, or thing signified?\n  A.--The body and blood of Christ, which are verily and indeed\n  taken and received by the faithful in the Lord's Supper.\n\n  Qu.--What are the benefits whereof we are partakers thereby?\n  A.--The strengthening and refreshing of our souls by the body\n  and blood of Christ, as our bodies are by the bread and wine.\"\n\nThere are some \"appalling absences from the teaching\" of this\nCatechism and \"other more fearful elements included.\" There is\nnot a word about the gospel history in it, or justification by\nfaith only. It is all Creed, Commandments, and Sacraments. Change\n\"bread and wine\" into \"accidents of bread and wine,\" and you have\nin an that I have quoted a mere repetition of the Catholic\nCatechism. \"What avails it,\" then, that the Episcopalian minister\ntells his congregation that sacraments will not save them, when\nhe puts into their hands this catechism?  &c.\n\nI cannot follow the lecturer through the whole bead-roll of his\nenumeration of Catholic practices, which he has picked out of the\nMission Book and gathered up in a hasty perusal of other books of\ndevotion, or explain every thing. They are among the minor and\nsubordinate parts of the Catholic system, and are placed in their\nproper relations to the more essential parts of it in Catholic\npractice and instruction.\n{140}\nThe lecturer has put them forward into a false perspective which\ndistorts every thing, in order to show that they practically\nsupplant the truth, the grace, and the morality of Christ; in\norder to put in a preventer which shall effectually shut off all\naccess of our preaching of the great truths of religion to the\nProtestant mind. He has skillfully chosen just the very practices\nwhich are most misunderstood by Protestants, and most\nobjectionable in their view. The chief of these, and such as are\nconnected with Catholic dogmas, as Masses for the Dead, Devotion\nto the Blessed Virgin and Saints, and Indulgences, will be found\nfully explained in the sermons of this volume and the other\nvolumes published by the congregation of which their author was a\nmember, as well as in every Catholic manual. I single out,\ntherefore, only one, and that the very one which a non-Catholic\nreader of the Mission Book would be most likely to stumble at,\nviz. _The Scapular_.\n\nThe author says: \"I open the 'Book of the Mission,' and I find,\nintermixed with much that is better, such wretched directions as\nthat *** the wearing of 'the Virgin's Scapular' around the neck\n(shall) guarantee the fulfilment of a promise made to one Simon\nStock, an English Carmelite friar, of six centuries ago, that\n'whoso should die invested with it should be saved from eternal\nfire.'\" If this statement is to be taken in the sense of the\nlecturer, as a real exposition of our belief, it is very strange\nthat we should not dispense with the confessional, as well as\nwith preaching repentance toward God, and a holy life, and\nconfine ourselves to the easier task of investing all Catholics\nwith the scapular. Nothing would be further necessary then,\nexcept to keep the strings in good repair, and we might all of us\ntake our ease, eat, drink, and be merry, while this short life\nlasts, secure of going to heaven at last. Human nature always\nsettles down to the lowest optional method of escaping perdition,\naccording to our author.\n{141}\nIt is very singular, that after hearing our sermons on the\nmission, and then stumbling upon this account of the scapular in\na book published under our own direction, he should not have\nthought that there was some explanation of which it was\nsusceptible, which would give it a meaning in harmony with our\ndoctrine, and should not have asked for that explanation. I will\ngive it, however, unasked, lest it should seem that his objection\nis unanswerable.\n\nThe scapular is a small article, made to imitate a part of the\nreligious habit, and worn as the badge of a pious confraternity\naffiliated to the Carmelite Order. According to the proper and\nordinary use of it, it is conferred on persons intending to live\na devout life, as an exterior sign of their special consecration\nto the service of God under the protection of the Blessed Virgin,\nand of certain special graces which are given through the prayers\nof the holy religious of Mount Carmel, to those who fulfil the\nconditions faithfully. These conditions are, to observe a strict\nchastity according to one's state, whether married or single, and\nto perform certain acts of devotion. It is understood that in\norder to be capable of receiving these graces, a person must take\ncare to live always in the love and fear of God, and avoid all\nother mortal sins as well as those which are specifically\nrenounced by the reception of the religious habit. This implies a\ndiligent use of the means of grace, such as prayer and the\nsacraments. The advantage attributed to membership in the\nconfraternity, and gained by fulfilling its conditions, is\nmerely, additional grace to assist one to live a Christian life,\nand thus to escape perdition and gain heaven. The scapular is\nonly a symbol of this, and the only consolation a person who\nwears it can receive from it at the hour of death is, that it is\nto him a badge and emblem of the holy life he has led, and of the\npromise of special grace in his last moments.\n{142}\nThere is, besides this, the \"Sabbatine Indulgence,\" as it is\ncalled, by which it is generally held, as a matter, not of faith,\nbut of opinion, based on a private revelation, that a person may\nobtain a remission of the punishment of temporal pain in the\nother world, on the Saturday after his decease. Presupposing now\nthe Catholic doctrine of Purgatory, and also the doctrine of\nIndulgences, according to which no one can enter the first unless\nhe dies free from mortal sin, or obtain the second fully unless\nhe is free from every stain of sin, however small; there is\nnothing in this pious belief prejudicial to strictness of piety\nor virtue. In order to escape eternal perdition, one must truly\nrepent of every grievous sin. In order to be free from temporal\npunishment, one must satisfy the divine justice for past sins\nalready remitted, and repent of all sins whatever, even the least\nand most trivial. The soul can never enter heaven until its\nholiness is consummated. Therefore the pious belief respecting\nthe Sabbatine Indulgence cannot, without contradicting Catholic\ndoctrine, mean more than this: that one who faithfully\naccomplishes all that he promises on receiving the scapular, and\nearnestly endeavors to purify himself from all mortal and venial\nsin, may hope that the removal of the stains which his soul may\nhave at death will be accelerated by a special grace, and that,\nif without this special grace he would still have some short time\nto suffer, it may be remitted to him, or shortened, as God may\nsee fit.\n\nThe language of Catholic books, of devotion is often free and\nunguarded, and therefore easily susceptible of misunderstanding\nwhen taken out of its connection and pressed into a hard\nliteralness by those who do not understand the Catholic system in\nits harmony. These books are written for Catholics, who are\nsupposed to be instructed, and to have the practical sense of\ntheir religion which enables them to take up their meaning\nrightly. It is also presupposed that pastors and confessors will\ninstruct and direct those under their charge in all matters\nrelating to practical religion, and guard them against hurtful\nerrors or mistakes in substituting minor and subsidiary practices\nof devotion for solid piety and the fulfilment of the weightier\nmatters of the law.\n{143}\nLet anyone candidly examine into the spirit and scope of the\nsermons contained in this volume, and into those of the Mission\nBook, and he will see that those weightier matters are the ones\nwhich are insisted on. These are urged and enforced as essential\nwith all possible earnestness; and how can it detract from the\nforce of these exhortations, that an occasional recommendation of\nsome particular devotions is also thrown in, which is like our\nLord's counsel not to leave undone the paying tithes of mint,\nanise, and cummin?\n\nLet it be remembered that the point is not now to prove the truth\nof the Catholic doctrine respecting the sacraments or any\ninferior rites, practices, or pious works. It is to refute the\ncharge that by these things we subvert sound morality, solid and\nspiritual piety, and faith in Christ as the Author of grace and\njustification. This charge is untrue, irrespective of the\nquestion of the claim of the Catholic Church on faith and\nobedience. The author of the \"Price Lecture\" has made it without\ndue study and examination, on the faith of the writers of the\nChurch he has recently joined, and into whose views he has thrown\nhimself by a voluntary effort, without waiting to mature the\nresults of his own theological principles. He is capable of\nbetter things than this hasty and superficial lecture. Let him be\ntrue to the dying declaration of the great Anglican divine which\nhe quotes with so much approbation (p. 6), \"I die in the faith\nand Church of Christ, as held before the separation of East and\nWest,\" and he will no longer be found in unworthy companionship\nwith the revilers of the Roman Church. How much more dignified\nand noble is the position taken by such men as the great\nphilosopher Leibniz, in the past, and, in the present, by the\ngreat statesman and champion of the truth of revelation and\nProtestant orthodoxy, Guizot!\n{144}\nThe latter does not hesitate to avow that he considers the cause\nof which he is a champion essentially identical with that of the\nChurch of Rome. I agree with him, in the sense that the whole of\nthe Christian tradition which is found in the various Christian\nbodies, and which constitutes the positive and objective creed\nwhich they cling to, is all preserved in the Catholic Church. I\nknow the doctrine of Luther and Calvin, in which I was brought\nup, thoroughly, and I can testify that the positive portion of\nit, respecting the mystery of Redemption and the inward\nsanctification of the Holy Spirit, I retain unchanged. I know\nthoroughly, also, the Church principles of Reformed Episcopacy,\nand I retain all these unchanged. I have found also all that true\nand sound rationality, or respect for human reason and its\ncertain science, together with all that high estimate of the\nmoral virtues, which is professed by Unitarians, in Catholic\ntheology. I have never lost any thing or been required to\nabdicate any thing which I had previously acquired in the\nintellectual or spiritual life, by embracing Catholic doctrine\nbut have only added to it that which makes it more integral and\ncomplete. The real question of discussion is about that which is\npositive in the Roman Church, in addition to that which is common\nto her and Protestant communions, and not about those more\nprimary articles of the Christian creed which form the basis of\nall religion and Christianity. It is the question, whether the\nCatholic Church is really the one, only Church, founded by Christ\non the Supremacy of St. Peter and his Apostolic See of Rome; and\nis an infallible teacher in faith and morals. We do not ask other\nChristians to admit this before they have examined the evidence,\nor been convinced by its force. We ask them simply, _ad\ninterim_, to do us justice, to give us a fair hearing, to\nobserve the rules of honorable warfare in their controversies\nwith us, and to concede our rightful claims as Christians and as\nfree citizens.\n{145}\nThose bigoted leaders of religious factions and their great\n\"Fourth Estate\" of unemployed clerical followers, whose\noccupation of hanging around the skirts of our armies is gone,\nand who seek to stir up a religious war, by representing\nCatholics as the enemies of civil and religious liberty, and the\nprogress of the Church as dangerous to our political welfare, are\nbeyond all reason or remonstrance. Their plans are well\ncharacterised in some of the secular papers, as more nefarious\nthan those of the men who plotted to burn the hotels of New York.\nThey would be better employed, and make a much more efficacious\nwar on infidelity, if they would give missions, establish\nchurches, and make other efforts for the instruction in some\nprinciples of religion and morality of the half-million of\nProtestants in the city of New York, and the other millions\nelsewhere, who never enter a church-door. Those Protestants who\nmay read these pages will undoubtedly, for the most part, belong\nto that large class who repudiate indignantly all sympathy with\nmen of this sort, and their schemes. And on such readers I rely\nconfidently to judge justly and generously the pure and noble\ncharacter and apostolic works of the subject of this Memoir, from\nhis life and from his own writings. I rely on them to believe my\ntestimony, that they will find in these a specimen of the genuine\ncharacter and doctrine of the Catholic priesthood, modelled after\nthe form proposed by the Church herself. I think they will give\ntheir approbation and sympathy to all that is done by the\nCatholic clergy to stem the vast and swelling torrent of impiety\nand immorality which threatens our political and social fabric on\nevery side, and will acknowledge the service done to the state\nand society, apart from the directly religious benefit to the\nsouls of men, by the only Church and body of clergy that has a\npowerful sway over great masses of the population in our country.\n\nThis long digression will, I fear, have seemed tedious, and\nirrelevant to the proper subject of this biographical narrative.\n{146}\nI have thought it necessary, however, as a background to my\nportrait, to paint the missionary work from which the life of\nFather Baker receives its principal value and significance. I\nreturn now to resume the thread of his personal history, which I\nleft at the point where he was about to commence his public\nsacerdotal and missionary career.\n\nFather Baker came to the assistance of the little band who were\ntoiling in their arduous missionary labors, in November, 1856.\nHis first mission-sermon was preached in St. Patrick's Church,\nWashington, D. C., on \"The Necessity of Salvation.\" This sermon\nwas also the last one which he ever preached, at one of the\nweekly services of Lent, in the parish church of St. Paul's, New\nYork.\n\nThe debut of Father Baker as a missionary is noticed at the\nRecords of the Missions in the following words, which were\nwritten by the faithful friend who watched over his last moments.\n\n  \"The Rev. Father Baker, a convert from Episcopalianism, and\n  most highly respected and beloved as a Protestant minister in\n  Baltimore, had been just ordained, and came for the first time\n  to assist at this mission. He preached the opening sermon,\n  which gave great satisfaction to all who heard it, and a\n  promise that he will hereafter be a truly apostolical\n  missionary.\"\n\nOne pleasing little incident of this very interesting mission\nwas, that the President and his lady gathered and arranged a\nbeautiful bouquet of flowers, which were sent to decorate the\naltar at the ceremony of the Dedication to the Blessed Virgin,\nwhich took place near the close of the mission.\n\nAfter the conclusion of this mission, Father Baker was sent by\nhis superior to Annapolis, to assist the rector of the House of\nNovices located there (on one of the ancient manors of the\nCarroll family, which had been given to the congregation by the\ndaughter of Charles Carroll, of Carrollton), in the care of the\nlittle Catholic parish in that place.\n{147}\nThe other missionaries went South, for a series of missions to be\ngiven during the winter, and finding the work there too great for\ntheir small band of four, telegraphed from Savannah to the\nprovincial, requesting him to send Father Baker to assist them.\nIn compliance with this request, Father Baker was sent on\nimmediately to Savannah, and took part in the mission given in\nthe cathedral, at that time under the care of the saintly and\napostolic Dr. Barry, then administrator, and afterward bishop of\nthe diocese. There was but little episcopal splendor to be seen\nabout the Savannah cathedral and residence at this time. Until\nwithin a few years previously to the mission, Georgia had been\nincluded in the diocese of Charleston. Dr. Gartland, the first\nbishop, had procured a suitable residence for himself and his\nclergy, and had purchased property with a view of erecting a\nhandsome cathedral. A short time after his consecration, Savannah\nwas visited by a destructive tornado, which destroyed the greater\npart of the fine old trees which formed the principal ornament of\nthe place, otherwise injured the city very seriously, and\nunroofed the bishop's house. The yellow fever broke out about the\nsame time, in a very virulent manner; and the bishop, as also\nBishop Barron, who came there to assist him, fell a victim to the\nepidemic. These disasters, and the debts which pressed on the\ncongregation, put a stop for a time to all efforts to establish\nmatters on a suitable footing. After Dr. Barry's consecration,\nthe old church was refitted and furnished in a way to make it\nquite respectable for the cathedral of a new diocese, and a\nspacious mansion was purchased for the episcopal residence. But\nat this time Dr. Barry was living, like a bishop _in partibus\ninfidelium_, in a small and poor frame dwelling-house,\ncontaining only four or five rooms, and the clergy were putting\nup, in the best way they could, with rooms over the sacristy of\nthe church. Just round the corner, an aged negro, with a long\nwhite beard, who was a Methodist preacher, might be seen sitting\nall the day long in the sun on a little stool, holding a cow by a\nrope around her horns, while she nibbled the grass which grew\nalong the streets; and the old gentleman chatted with the\npassers-by, or prepared his sermons for the next Sunday, highly\ndelighted at the friendly salutations which the fathers always\ngave him as they passed by.\n{148}\nEvery now and then a black nurse passed along the street,\ncarrying or wheeling the little white infant of her charge; or a\ntroop of negro boys and their young masters, playing together\nwith the utmost familiarity. The sunny, Southern atmosphere was\nvocal with the merry, free-and-easy sounds of laughing, chatting\nmirth, or work carried on like a play without much care or hurry,\nso characteristic of a city in the far South. Savannah is a very\nbeautiful and picturesque place, where, at that time, Southern\nlife and manners could be seen at the greatest advantage; and the\nnovelty of the scene gave it a great zest to those of our number\nwho had not seen it before. The clergy were, most of them, old\nveteran missionaries, brought to this country by the celebrated\nBishop England, full of rich and piquant anecdotes of their past\nexperience among the wild, sparsely-settled regions of Georgia\nand the neighboring States, related with inimitable wit and\nhumor. [Footnote 6] The mission was still further enlivened by a\nvisit to Savannah from Archbishop Hughes, accompanied by his\namiable secretary, who were making a tour of recreation to\nrestore the archbishop's shattered health; and from Dr. Lynch,\nsoon after appointed to the see of Charleston.\n\n    [Footnote 6: One of these good clergymen, the Rev. Peter\n    Whelan, during the late civil war, remained a long time among\n    our prisoners at Andersonville, and spent four hundred\n    dollars in gold at one time in purchasing bread for their\n    necessities.]\n\nThis mission was, however, no play-spell for the missionaries.\nBesides the ordinary labor of preaching and hearing the\nconfessions of a multitude of people, it was necessary to search\nout the people themselves, and bring them to church to hear the\nsermons. At that time, the Southern towns received the\n_d\u00e9bris_ of foreign emigration, and were filled during the\nwinter months by a loose floating population of Northern\nlaborers, who were without employment at home.\n{149}\nHence, there was a larger proportion than elsewhere of the most\ndegenerate and demoralised class of Catholics, living in complete\nneglect of their religious and moral duties, and beyond the reach\nof the ordinary ministrations of the Church. Savannah has several\nsuburbs and purlieus, rejoicing in the names of Yammacraw,\nRobertsville, and Old Fort, crowded with squalid hovels,\ndrinking-shops, sailors' boarding-houses, and dens of thieves and\nsmugglers, representing in a small way the scenes which Dickens\ndelights in describing. A mission in the cathedral might be given\nten times over, and the news of it never reach the denizens of\nthese places. Accordingly, the missionaries divided the several\ndistricts between them, and undertook to beat up the quarters of\nsin, vice, and misery, in the hope of rescuing some of these\nforlorn and abandoned souls. It would hardly be safe for any one\nbut a Catholic priest to undertake such a work, especially in the\nevening, and certainly no one else would have any hope of\nsuccess. The work was done, however, very thoroughly, and, in\nconsequence, the church was crowded by that class of persons who\nwere in most need of a mission, and who had never been reached\nbefore. An immediate and extensive reformation was the result.\nThe grog-shops were deserted, which before were filled from\nmorning until late at night, the sound of cursing and quarrelling\nwas hushed, the darker deeds of sin ceased, and the great mass of\nthese poor, lost souls began to listen to the eternal truths, and\nto seek for the way that would bring them back to God. Many,\nengaged in dishonest practices, abandoned their unlawful traffic,\nand made restitution of their ill-gotten gains. Great numbers of\nthose who had abandoned the sacraments, and even ceased going to\nchurch, for ten, twenty, or thirty years, came with great fervor\nand earnestness to confession. Some of the poor slaves also, as\nwell Methodists as those who were Catholics, attended eagerly on\nthe instructions of the mission.\n{150}\nOne old Methodist negress was asked by her mistress, or some one\nelse who noticed her constant attendance, if she liked the\nmission; to which she replied: \"Oh, Lor! yes, missus; I'se bound\nto be there, if I can get only one eye in, every time.\" Another\ngrown-up slave girl, who had never been baptized, was most\nanxious to receive baptism, and induced her mistress to ask me to\nbaptize her. I was very reluctant to do it, fearing lest she\nmight not be sufficiently instructed and prepared in her moral\ndispositions to begin a really Christian life, without a longer\nprobation; and therefore refused to baptize her during the\nmission. After the last sermon she went nearly frantic, and made\nloud exclamations that she wished to be taken out of the devil's\nhands, and the father would not do it, but was going away,\nleaving her in his power. Touched by her entreaties, and finding\nthat her mistress had taught her the rudiments of the catechism,\nI instructed her for some days, and endeavored to impress upon\nher mind especially, that if she wished for the graces of baptism\nand the friendship of God, she must renounce all sin and live a\ngood and holy life. So fearful was she that she might sin, and\nreceive baptism unworthily, that for a day before her baptism she\nwould not speak a word to any person, not even her mistress. She\nrefused to speak even when she was asked about her sponsors and\nher baptismal dress, and her whole demeanor at her baptism was\nlike that of one oppressed with the most intense sentiment of\nreligious awe, and of the sacredness of the promises she was\nmaking to God. It is not to be supposed that every bad Catholic\nwas reformed, or that, of those who were really brought to a\nresolution to mend their lives, all of them persevered. The\nhydra-headed monster of vice is not killed by a blow, nor can we\nhope ever to exterminate sin by any means, even those which have\na divine efficacy. It is a continual warfare which we have to\nwage, by both spiritual and moral weapons, which the free will\ncan always resist.\n{151}\nGod alone has coercive power over the spirit of man, and He will\nnot exert it to compel him to obey His law. Temptations to sin\never beset the human will, especially in a corrupt, irreligious,\nand immoral state of society. The Catholic Church is not intended\nto be a society of saints who have already attained perfection,\nbut a training and reformatory school for the human race. It has\nno means of charming or mesmerizing the human will into sanctity,\nand its gracious influences do not supersede the struggle for\nlife which exists in the spiritual as in the natural world. It\nhas all the means of sanctifying the human race, and of elevating\nmen to the summit of possible human virtue, limited only by the\nextent to which the free human will co-operates with grace. It\nmust actually produce these results on a great scale, in order to\nprove that it is the Church; because God would not have created\nit for this purpose, foreseeing its essential failure to fulfil\nits work and attain its predestined end. It is easy enough to\nshow that the Church possesses this note of sanctity, correctly\nunderstood in this way. But it is perfectly true also that the\nfree-will of man, by its failure and perversion, hinders the\nChurch to a vast extent from exhibiting its regenerating and\nsanctifying power. Great numbers of individuals in the Catholic\nChurch live and act in contradiction to their faith, neglect or\nabuse the means of grace, and dishonor religion by their conduct.\nThe only means which the Church has of contending with this evil,\nand reclaiming these unworthy members from a sinful life, are\nmoral means, acting on the mind and conscience. Missions are\namong the most powerful and efficacious of these means, and their\nefficacy is shown, not in eradicating sin, or liberating human\nnature from its intrinsic liability and propensity to sin, but in\nchecking and counteracting its violence, and reclaiming a great\nnumber of individuals from its influence.\n{152}\nIf they actually do this, if they have a perceptible influence in\nreforming and renovating the demoralised portion of the Catholic\ncommunity, heightening the restraining power of faith and\nconscience among the mass of the people, and producing many\npermanent fruits in the increase of piety and morality, they are\nsuccessful, and their value is established. It is beyond a\nquestion that they do this to an extent which can only be\nunderstood by those who are engaged in them, or who have studied\ntheir working on a grand scale.\n\nTo return to the Savannah mission. I had a good opportunity to\njudge of its permanent fruits when, two years afterward, I\nreturned there, and went through the same quarters of the town\nwhere we had gone to drum up the people to the mission, in making\na collection for the new congregation of St. Paul. Many of the\nvery poorest dwellings I found neat and orderly; the pious\npictures blessed during the mission hanging upon the walls; the\nchildren clean and tidy; sometimes an old man sitting at the\ndoor, reading the mission-book; the wives and mothers evidently\ncheerful and contented, the best sign that their husbands were\nsober and kind; the expressions of grateful remembrance of the\nmission warm and frequent; the signs of moral improvement\neverywhere, and the church crowded on Sunday.\n\nIt is not to be supposed that the body of the Catholic\ncongregation of Savannah were like this lowest class I have\ndescribed. I have dwelt more minutely on their condition, and the\ngood done among them, mainly because the small comparative size\nof the place, and the thorough visitation which was made, brought\nus into a more close contact with their miseries, and enabled us\nto see more clearly what can be done to relieve them, than is\nusually the case. I have wished to show what the hardest and most\nrepulsive part of the work of the missionary is, and to give a\ntrue picture of the nature and efficacy of the means used to\nraise up and reform and save the most demoralised class of the\nCatholic population throughout the country, and especially in the\nlarge towns, where this class is most numerous.\n{153}\nI wish, also, before resuming the particular narrative of F.\nBaker's life, to show what was the work for which he left the\nease and elegance and attractive charm of his earlier position as\nan Episcopalian clergyman, fulfilling the light duty of reading\nprayers and preaching quiet, well-written, polished discourses\nfor the _\u00e9lite_ of Baltimore society.\n\nThe mass of the people who were brought to the mission in\nSavannah by the personal visits of the fathers had never been\nseen in the church previously. They were the _d\u00e9bris_ that\nthe tide of emigration had deposited there, and many of them only\nchance-residents of the town.\n\nThe ordinary church-going congregation contained, as usual, its\nvery large proportion of Easter communicants, with a smaller but\nstill numerous class of devout and fervent Catholics who\napproached the sacraments frequently. The majority of them\nbelonged to the humbler walks of life, although there were a\nconsiderable number whose position in worldly society was more\nelevated.\n\nF. Baker arrived in Savannah, when the mission was about half\nover, and took his share in the labor of preaching and hearing\nconfessions. At the close of it, after a few days' rest, three of\nthe missionaries, of whom he was one, commenced a series of\nmissions in one part of the diocese, and the two others began\nanother which embraced the smaller parishes. The smaller band\nwent to Macon, Columbus, and Atlanta, rejoining their companions\nsubsequently at Charleston. As F. Baker went in another\ndirection, I shall confine myself to the narrative of the\nmissions in which he was engaged, and pass over the others,\nmerely pausing for a moment to notice a letter written by a\nProtestant gentleman in Macon, to the _United States Catholic\nMiscellany_, of Charleston, as an evidence of the impression\noften made by missions upon the minds of candid and intelligent\nProtestants. The letter is as follow's:--\n\n{154}\n\n  \"In company with many of our most distinguished citizens, I\n  have had the pleasure of hearing most of the sermons delivered,\n  and witnessing the accompanying exercises connected with their\n  mission, and but express the united and universal sentiment\n  entertained, when I say that they were exceedingly interesting\n  and instructive, and have served to dissipate many of the\n  vulgar prejudices that hung like a mist upon the public mind,\n  and, like a cold-damp, mildewed reason and honest judgment.\n  Sufficient testimony of this result may be found in the fact\n  that a number of Protestant gentlemen called upon Mr. Walworth\n  yesterday, and urgently requested him to deliver one more\n  sermon before his departure, which he consented to do this\n  evening. I would send you a copy of the correspondence, but it\n  would be too voluminous for the brevity of this letter; suffice\n  it to say it was complimentary, no less in the act itself than\n  in the manner in which the request was conveyed.\n\n  \"I must take this occasion of expressing my gratification at\n  the result adverted to, for though I am not a member, nor ever\n  have been, of the Catholic Church, its piety and religious\n  principles--the purity, integrity, ability, learning, and\n  eloquence of its teachers and preachers--the bright links of\n  patience, endurance, and fidelity, by which it is held to the\n  early ages of Christianity--its unity of action, consistency of\n  precept and practice, and conformity of theory and doctrine, as\n  well as the great lights of intellect that have shed lustre\n  upon it in the past and present--men whose genius has elevated\n  them above the gloom of dying centuries to overflow history\n  with glory--these have commended the Catholic Church favorably\n  to my judgment; and regarding its onward progress and\n  increasing popularity with no jaundiced sectarian eye or\n  jealous faction-spirit, but with the extension of civilization\n  and Christianity--I feel the pressure of no petty, vulgar\n  prejudice in wishing it, with all other Christian\n  organizations, 'God speed;' and if this sentiment be in\n  hostility with Protestantism, as for myself and it I say,\n  'perish the connection'--'live' the enlightened liberality and\n  intelligence of civilized and educated man.\n    \"Yours, very truly, etc.\n    \"Macon, _December_ 31, 1856.\"\n\n{155}\n\nFrom Savannah, F. Baker, with two companions, went to give a\nmission in Augusta. On the pages of the Mission Records several\ninteresting incidents of this mission are related. On the first\nSunday morning of the mission, three gentlemen called on the\nfathers, all of whom, it appeared, were converts. One of them was\ncalled Dr. W. B., the second, his nephew, Dr. M., and the third\nwas the overseer of Dr. B.'s plantation. This Dr. B. had been\nreceived into the Catholic Church some months previously, and had\nentered a Catholic church for the first time that morning. He was\na man of fine and genteel appearance, with gray hair and a long,\nblack beard, an intelligent and educated physician. So great was\nhis excitement, and so wonderful did every thing which he saw\nthat may appear through the magnifying glass of his imagination,\nthat on his return home that night, at eleven o'clock, he awoke\nhis brother and made him get up and light a fire, that he might\nrelate the events of the day. As a sample of the proportion in\nwhich he viewed the whole, it may suffice to say that he\ndescribed one of the fathers as seven and a-half feet high--at\nleast six inches taller than the Georgia giant. The brother\nalluded to, also a physician and planter, made his appearance a\nday or two later. He was quite an elderly gentleman, with an\nintelligent countenance and a magnificent patriarchal beard. A\npainter could not find a better head for an Apostle, or for one\nof the ancient Bishops or Fathers of the Church than his. He was\na man with an intellect like Brownson's, and full of information.\nHe became a Catholic a few years ago from reading Brownson's\nReview. Since that time he has been a great champion of the\nChurch, and, through his influence, his own family, his brother\nand sister, his nephew and some others, have also been converted.\n{156}\nOne of the latter was then residing in Dr. B.'s own family, and\nwas leading a most remarkably penitential life. This gentleman (a\nMr. S.), of high birth and education, was formerly a lawyer, and\na married man of large property. He was renowned for his courage,\nand had fought with one of the most celebrated duellists of South\nCarolina, named R. This gentleman lost his property and was\nabandoned by his wife. About seven years before he had become a\nCatholic, he lived for a considerable time with his brother, an\nunprincipled and ferocious man, who scarcely allowed him a bare\npittance. He was dressed in rags, was barefooted, and lived on\nbread which he baked himself.\n\nAfter a few years, when Dr. B. had become a Catholic, and opened\na small chapel on his own plantation, Mr. S. appeared there one\nday at Mass in his miserable plight. Dr. R. invited him to stay\nwith him, and gave him a small office to live in, and all other\nthings requisite for his comfort. Here he had been living ever\nsince, leading the life of a saint, and passing a great portion\nof his time in reading Catholic books, especially Brownson's\nReview, which he knew almost by heart. The Doctor said that the\nonly thing which could excite his anger, was to hear anyone speak\nagainst Brownson, or contradict any thing he says. As an instance\nof his penance, I will relate how, according to Dr. B.'s account,\nhe attempted to pass one Lent. He had been reading the Lives of\nthe Fathers of the Desert, and he endeavored to imitate their\nexample precisely and to the letter. His whole food consisted of\na small quantity of bread, and during the last three days he\nwanted to fast entirely, but Dr. B. threatened that, if he did,\nhe would send a little negro for Father B., to excommunicate him.\nHe was wasted to a skeleton, and did not recover the effects of\nhis fasting for six months afterward.\n{157}\nOn one occasion, Mr. S. found a poor, sick negro, with no one to\nattend him, and not contented with waiting on him and taking care\nof him, as he was constantly in the habit of doing for all the\nsick within several miles' distance, he washed his feet, and, for\nwant of a towel, wiped them with his pocket-handkerchief. It was\nnecessary to watch him, lest he might give away his clothes to\nthe negroes and when he needed new clothes, they were put\nsecretly in his way, and the old ones removed.\n\nOthers in this neighborhood, who were not yet Catholics, were so\nwell disposed that they had their children baptized. Edgefield\nand the country round about was formerly celebrated for the\nlawless and violent character of the population, for the\nfrequency of murders, and for the bitter prejudice existing\nagainst the Catholic Church; so much so, that a priest could not\nobtain the Court-House to preach in. When the elder Dr. B. became\na Catholic, Dr. W. B. declared that he would burn up his wife and\nchildren and his whole house before they should become Catholics,\nand any priest who should chance to come near him. Another\ngentleman, since a convert, said that, if one of his children\nshould become a Catholic, he would take him by the heels and dash\nout his brains against a stone wall. Dr. M., when he went to\nstudy medicine with his uncle, the elder Dr. B., made a vow that\nhe would never enter the chapel and never desert the faith of his\nfathers; and his parents told him on leaving home that, if he\nbecame a Catholic, he should never cross the Savannah River again\nor see their faces. After some months, he became silent and\nmelancholy. For a while he concealed the cause, but at last, one\nevening he told his aunt that he could hold out no longer, and\nwas a Catholic at heart. Shortly after receiving his medical\ndiploma, he determined to renounce the practice of medicine, and\nhas recently been ordained to the priesthood.\n\n{158}\n\nAt Edgefield a lot of seven acres was purchased in the middle of\nthe town, for a church, to be built of brown stone, in the Gothic\nstyle. Five gentlemen had already subscribed sixteen hundred\ndollars for the church, and Father B. was collecting for the same\npurpose. There was a general inclination throughout the whole\ntown to embrace the Catholic faith, and already there is a small\nband of the best Catholics in the country there--souls that have\nbeen led by the great God Himself, by the wonderful ways of His\nmost holy grace. Dr. B. has since died, and what has been the\nfate of the little congregation, and of the beautiful church\nwhich was commenced, during the troubles and miseries of the\ncivil war, I know not. They have not, however, hindered the\nCatholics of Augusta from completing and paying for a large and\ncostly church, the successor of a very good and commodious\nedifice of brick where the mission was given.\n\nAfter leaving Augusta, we went to Savannah once more, and on the\n29th of January went on board the little steamer Gen. Clinch,\nwhich was afterward turned into a gunboat during the civil war,\nto begin our voyage by the inland route to St. Augustine,\nFlorida. This inland route has some peculiar and picturesque\nfeatures. The steamer passes down the Savannah River, with its\nbanks lined with the green and gold orange trees, until, near the\nmouth, it turns into its proper route, leading through a\nsuccession of small sounds, connected by narrow, serpentine\nrivers, where you seem to be sailing over the meadows, usually in\nsight of the ocean, and quite often aground for some hours at a\ntime. The steamer was very small and very crowded, our progress\nvery leisurely and interrupted by several long stoppages, so that\nour voyage was protracted for five days. It is seldom that a more\nmotley or singular and amusing group of passengers is collected\nin a small cabin.\n{159}\nBesides the three Catholic priests, who were to the others the\ngreatest curiosities on board, we had an army lieutenant, since\nthen the commander of a _corps d'arm\u00e9e_ in the great civil\nwar, an old wizard who was consulting his familiar spirits\nincessantly for the amusement or information of the passengers; a\nplantation doctor, a wild young Arkansas lawyer of the\nfire-eating type, a professor of mathematics, a crotchety,\ngood-humored New York farmer, with very peculiar religious\nopinions, a young man who professed himself a universal sceptic,\ntwo or three gentlemen of education and polished manners, who\nwere not at all singular, but appeared quite so in such an odd\nassemblage; and some others in no way remarkable. The cramped\naccommodations, the long voyage, and the usual _bonhommie_\nwhich prevails on such occasions were well fitted to draw out all\nthe oddities and idiosyncrasies of the company. The spiritualist,\nwho was an uneducated and uncouth specimen of humanity, with a\ngreat deal of native shrewdness, and a good-humored, loquacious\ndisposition, was the center of attraction. The professor and the\nphilosophical farmer engaged with him in a long and earnest\ndiscussion of spiritualism, which ended in his exhibiting his\npowers as a consulter of the spirits. Most of the passengers made\ntrial of his skill in this respect, although his performance was\nthe most patent of silly impostures, only amusing from its\nabsurdity. The professor tried him sorely by asking him a\nquestion which seemed to have caused himself many an hour of\nanxious and fruitless thought, and which he appeared to despair\nof solving metaphysically: \"Can God annihilate space?\" The old\ngentleman's spirit did not appear to have investigated this\nquestion to his own complete satisfaction, for he gave him no\npositive answer. He was silent for a moment, with a puzzled look,\nevidently fearing a trap, and at last answered, \"I don't know,\nbut I guess He could if He tried; He made it, and I guess He\ncould annihilate it.\" Just as the professor was going to retire\nto his berth, the old man took revenge by telling him that he had\njust been informed by the spirits that one of his children was\nsick of scarlet fever. The wizard left the boat at Brunswick, but\nas the conversation had taken a religious and philosophical turn\nat first, it continued in that direction, the two individuals\nbefore mentioned being the principal interlocutors.\n{160}\nWe did not join much in it, as it was evidently distasteful to\nseveral of the company, who wished to read quietly or converse on\nordinary topics. Before we parted, however, one of our number\ntook the opportunity which offered itself of having a little\npleasant and rational discussion with the professor and one or\ntwo others, who were really intelligent and well-informed. On New\nYear's Day we remained several hours at St. Mary's, Georgia,\nwhere we found the mayor of the place to be a Catholic gentleman,\nof Acadian descent, and were hospitably entertained at his house.\nThe boat passed the night at Fernandina, and the next day we went\nout of the St. Mary's River, across a short and dangerous stretch\nof ocean between a line of breakers and the shore, into the St.\nJohn's, and up that romantic river, so full of historical\nassociations. Friday evening saw us befogged above Jacksonville,\nand on Saturday morning we learned to our dismay that our captain\nwas going past our landing, and on to Pilatka, which would keep\nus on board his miserable little craft until the next week, and\nprevent the opening of the mission on the Sunday. Touching for a\nfew moments at Fleming's Island, we found friends at the little\ndock, who were passing the winter on the island, and who informed\nus that we could go from there that afternoon to our destination.\nWe debarked accordingly, our friend the professor in company with\nus, and were refreshed with a good breakfast at the hotel where\nour friends were lodging, and a stroll around the little island.\nOn the arrival of the steamer, the whole party went on board and\nproceeded to Picolata, where we took stage-coaches for St.\nAugustine, arriving there on Saturday evening. About halfway\nbetween Picolata and St. Augustine there is a post-house, where,\nin the last Florida War with the Seminole Indians, a party of\ntravelling actors were surprised and murdered by Indians, who\ndressed themselves in their fantastic costumes, and in that guise\nmade a hostile demonstration in the neighborhood of St.\nAugustine.\n\n{161}\n\nTo Americans, this old town seems to have a vast antiquity,\nclaiming as it does the respectable age of three centuries. The\nCatholic church here is almost as old as Protestantism, and a\nbrief of St. Pius V., in regard to some of the religious affairs\nof this colony, is still extant. There are remnants of an old\nwall in several places, and a large fortress built in Spanish\ntimes, and called the castle of St. Marco, where you may yet see\nthe marks of the cannon-shot fired at the invasion of Oglethorpe\nfrom Georgia. This fort might serve as a scene for the plot of a\nnew \"Mysteries of Udolfo,\" it is so unlike any thing modern, and\nso thoroughly Spanish and medi\u00e6val. It is not, however, of a sort\nto make one regret the past. Its dark, damp casemates look like\nprisons, especially one frightful dungeon, which is a cell within\na cell, without any embrasure, and admitting no light or air\nexcept that which comes through the door opening into the outer\ncasemate. This was the cell of the greatest criminals. In one of\nthese casemates, Wildcat, the celebrated Indian chief, was once\nconfined with a companion. Although cruel and blood-thirsty,\nWildcat was a great warrior, and a man gifted with a high order\nof genius, an orator, a poet, and a true cavalier of the forest.\nOn pretence of illness, he and his companion reduced their bulk\nas much as possible by a low diet and purgative medicines, and by\nthe aid of a knife, which he had secreted and used as a spike by\nthrusting it into the wall of soft concrete, with a rope\ndexterously made from strips of his bed-clothes, he clambered to\nthe high and narrow embrasure, squeezed himself through, not\nwithout scraping the skin from his breast, and let himself down\ninto the moat. His companion followed him, but fell to the\nground, breaking his leg. Nevertheless, Wildcat carried him off,\nseized a stray mule, and escaped to his tribe in the forest.\n{162}\nAfter the conclusion of the war, he went to Mexico, where he\nbecame the alcalde of an Indian village, and did his new country\nessential service by leading a body of Indian warriors, armed\nwith Mississippi rifles, against a band of filibusters from the\nUnited States. Osceola, the half-breed king of the Seminoles, who\nwas not only a hero, but a just and humane man, was also captured\nnear St. Augustine, by treachery and bad faith, and confined in\nthis fortress for a time, but afterward removed to Charleston,\nwhere he died of a broken heart. The great mahogany\ntreasure-chest of Don Juan Menendez is still remaining in the\nfortress, and in one of the casemates are remnants of a rude\nstone altar and holy-water stoups, marking the site of a chapel.\nThe fortress is kept in good preservation by our Government, and\na noble sea-wall extends from it to the barracks at the other end\nof the town, which are established in an ancient Franciscan\nmonastery. A great part of the old city is in ruins. The old\nSpanish families left the country when it was ceded by Spain to\nthe United States, and the resident inhabitants are Minorcans,\nnegroes, and a small number of settlers from the other portions\nof the United States. The Minorcans are descendants of a body of\ncolonists, brought to Florida under false pretences by an English\nspeculator, who enslaved them, and kept them for a long time in\nthat state before they became aware that there was any way of\nescaping from it. When they did take courage to shake off the\nyoke, they removed to the Spanish colony of St. Augustine, where\nthey retain their language, a dialect of the Spanish, with their\nancient, simple character and habits. The illustrious Spanish\nnames which some of them bear amused us greatly. Sanchez was the\nproprietor of a line of slow coaches. Suarez had charge of F.\nMadeore's farm, and Ximenes served Mass. The church is a large\nSpanish structure, built, as are most of the houses, of soft\nconcrete formed from sea-shells. On a green in front of it stands\nthe only remaining monument, erected in commemoration of the\nformation of the Spanish Constitution of 1814.\n{163}\nThe tower has a chime of small bells, which are rung in a most\njoyous, clashing style, according to the Spanish custom, for\nfestive occasions, and with a peculiarly plaintive peal for\ndeaths and funerals. The cemetery is called Tolomato, which was\nthe name of an Indian village formerly occupying its site. The\nruins of an ancient mission chapel are still to be seen there,\nwhere F. Roger, a French Jesuit, was murdered by an apostate\nIndian chief and his warriors. After killing F. Roger, the band\nproceeded to another chapel, called Nuestra Se\u00f1ora de Leche,\nwhere they found a priest just robed for Mass. He requested the\nchief to allow him to say Mass, and his desire was granted, the\nsavages prostrating themselves with their faces to the ground\nwhile he performed the holy function, lest the sight of him\nshould soften their hearts. After Mass he knelt at the foot of\nthe altar, and received a blow from the tomahawk which made him a\nmartyr.\n\nTolomato contains also the beautiful tomb erected by the Cubans\nover the grave of the Rev. Dr. Varela, a learned, holy, and\npatriotic priest, a native of the Island of Cuba, and a member of\nthe Spanish Cortes which established the Constitution. Banished\nfrom his native country, where his memory has always been fondly\ncherished, he passed the greater part of a long life as a\nlaborious parish priest in New York, and died in St. Augustine.\nThere is a beautiful chapel over his grave, with an altar of\nmarble and mahogany, and a heavy marble slab in the center of the\npavement, containing the simple but eloquent inscription: \"_Al\nPadre Varela los Cubanos_\"-The Cubans to Father Varela.\n\nThe mission in St. Augustine absorbed the whole attention of the\nCatholic population, who formed a large majority of the\ninhabitants. Great numbers of them gathered to welcome the\nfathers on their arrival, and whenever they went out they were\nmet and greeted by groups of these simple, warm-hearted people,\nand followed by a troop of children, who live there in a\nperpetual holiday.\n{164}\nThere was scarcely any business or work done there at any time;\nthe climate and the fertility both of the land and water in the\nmeans of subsistence furnishing the necessaries of life to the\npoorer classes without much trouble. Most of these pass their\ntime in fishing, and even this occupation was intermitted, so\nthat on Friday there was not a fish to be found in the market.\nThe people seemed literally to have nothing whatever to do; the\nfort and barracks were garrisoned by one soldier with his wife\nand children; the government of the place was a sinecure; the\nmails came only twice a week; behind the city lay the\ninterminable, uninhabited everglade; before it the Atlantic\nOcean, with its waters and breezes warmed by the Gulf Stream, and\nunvisited by any sails to disturb its solitude, except at rare\nintervals. Although it was midwinter, the weather was commonly as\npleasant and the sun as warm as it is in New England in the month\nof June. I have never witnessed such a scene of dreamy, listless,\nsunshiny indolence, where every thing seemed to combine to lull\nthe mind and senses into complete forgetfulness of the existence\nof an active world. To the people, however, it was one of the\nmost exciting periods of their lives. The presence of several\nstrange priests, the continual sermons and religious exercises,\ngave an unwonted air of life and activity to the precincts of the\nold church, and roused them to an unusual animation. Drunkenness,\ndishonesty, and the graver vices were almost unknown among them.\n\nThe negroes were found to be an extremely virtuous, innocent, and\ndocile class of people. Honest, sober, observant of the laws of\nmarriage, faithful and contented in their easy employments, which\nseemed to suit their disposition very well, and in many cases not\nonly pious, but very intelligent, and exhibiting fine traits of\ncharacter, they were the best evidence we had yet seen of what\nthe Catholic religion can do for this oppressed and ill-used\nrace.\n{165}\nOne of them, a pilot on one of the steamboats navigating the St.\nJohn's River, impressed me as one of the most admirable men of\nhis class in life, for capacity and conscientious Christian\nprinciple, I have ever met. Another, who was a freedman of the\ncelebrated John Randolph, and for many years his personal\nattendant, was not only intelligent and well informed, but a\nwell-bred gentleman in his manners and appearance.\n\nThe most interesting incident of the mission was the conversion\nof an ordnance sergeant of the regular army, who was in charge of\nthe fortress. This brave soldier had distinguished himself in the\nMexican war, by the recapture of a cannon which had been taken in\none of the battles by the Mexicans, and by his general character\nfor gallantry and fidelity to his duties. His wife and children\nwere Catholics, but he himself had lived until that time without\nany religion. On New-Year's night, as he sat alone in the\nbarracks, after his family had retired, he began to think over\nhis past life, and resolved to begin at once to live for the\ngreat end for which God had created him. He knelt down and said a\nfew prayers, to ask the grace and blessing of God on his good\nresolutions. His prayers were heard, and during the mission he\nwas received into the Catholic Church and admitted to the\nsacraments with all the signs of sincerity and fervor which were\nto be expected from one of such a resolute and manly character. I\nwish to mention one interesting circumstance which he related to\nme, as showing the power of good example in men of high station\nin the world. He told me that the first impression he received of\nthe truth and excellence of the Catholic religion, was received\nfrom witnessing the admirable life of that accomplished Christian\ngentleman and soldier, Captain Garesch\u00e8, to whose company he\nbelonged. Many readers will recall, as they read these records,\nthe admirable and glorious close of this officer's career on the\nfield of battle.\n{166}\nDuring the Western campaign of General Rosecrans,\nLieutenant-Colonel Garesch\u00e9 was his chief of staff. Before the\nbattle of Stone River, he received Holy Communion, and was\nobserved afterward alone under a tree, reading the \"Imitation of\nChrist.\" During the engagement, one of the fiercest and most\nbloody of the civil war, he rode, by the side of his gallant\ngeneral, through a storm of shot and shell, and by his side he\nfell, besprinkling his beloved commander with his blood, as he\nsank upon the field to die, and yielded up his noble life to his\ncountry and to God.\n\nThe labors of this mission were so light that it was more like\nholiday than work for us. The presence of a number of very\nagreeable and intelligent Catholic gentlemen and ladies, who were\nvisitors in the place, and some of whom were old friends, added\nvery much to the liveliness of the mission, and to our own\nenjoyment of its peculiar attendant circumstances. One of these\nwas the Abb\u00e9 Le Blond, a dear friend of ours and of all who knew\nhim, a priest of Montreal, who was gradually dying of\nconsumption, yet full of vivacity and activity, improving the\nremnant of his days by his labors of love and zeal, and his works\nof charity in different parts [of] the South where he passed his\nwinters. He died eventually in Rome. Another was Lieutenant\nMcDonald, of the British Royal Navy, and also, for some time\nbefore leaving England, a captain in the Queen's Guards, a\nHighland gentleman of a family that has always been true to the\nfaith, also since deceased.\n\nThe quiet city of St. Augustine, as well as all the other scenes\nand places where we passed that winter on our missionary tour,\nhas since then been visited by the desolating breath of war.\nProbably all is changed, and greater changes yet are coming with\nthe new issues of peace--changes which, there is reason to hope,\nwill advance both the religious and temporal welfare of the\npeople. Florida may yet become a populous State, and the handful\nof Catholics in it swell into a number sufficient to make a\nflourishing diocese.\n\n{167}\n\nImmediately after the close of the mission, F. Baker proceeded by\nsea to Charleston where he met the other two missionaries who had\nbeen at work in Georgia, and commenced a mission in the cathedral\nof that city. His two companions were detained for a time in St.\nAugustine by the sudden and severe illness of one of them, and\nthey went on a little later, returning by the same leisurely\nroute by which they came to Savannah, and thence to Charleston,\nwhere the mission was already in progress.\n\nCharleston possessed three Catholic churches, and its Catholic\npopulation numbered from five to six thousand. All the\ncongregations were invited to the mission, and a large number of\nthem did attend from St. Mary's and St. Patrick's, together with\nthe whole body of the cathedral parish. The same work performed\nby the missionaries in Savannah had been gone through in\nCharleston, in scouring the lanes and alleys of the city to bring\nup the stragglers, and the great cathedral was accordingly\ncrowded, morning and night. First of all, two hundred bright and\nwell-instructed children received communion in a body, and\nafterward, through the course of the mission, three thousand\nadults, among whom were twenty converts to the faith.\n\nFather Baker never, during the whole course of his missionary\nlife, enjoyed any thing so much as this Southern tour, and\nespecially his stay at Charleston, the most delightful city of\nthe South. After the long seclusion of three years in a convent,\nwhich had impaired his health and vigor, the recreation and\npleasure of such a trip wad most beneficial and delightful to\nhim. The work in which he was engaged, besides the higher\nsatisfaction which it gave to his zeal and charity, had also the\ncharm and excitement of novelty, without the pressure of too\narduous and excessive labor. At Charleston, he was already\nprepared by his previous experience and practice to take a full\nshare in the principal sermons, and to give them that peculiar\ntone and effect which is characteristic of mission sermons, and\nmakes them _sui generis_ among all others.\n{168}\nAll the circumstances were calculated to call the noblest powers\nof his mind and the warmest emotions of his heart into full play.\nThe cathedral was large, beautiful, and of a fine ecclesiastical\nstyle in all its arrangements. The adjoining presbytery, which\nhad been built for a convent, and all the surroundings, were both\nappropriate for the residence of a body of cathedral clergy and\npleasing to the eye of taste. The clergymen themselves, with\ntheir distinguished head, afterward the bishop of the diocese,\nwere men of accomplished learning and genial character, whose\nkindness and hospitality knew no bounds, and whose zeal made them\nefficient fellow-laborers in the work of the mission. The\ncongregation itself had many features of unusual interest. Having\nbeen long established, and carefully watched over, since the\nillustrious Bishop England organized the diocese, containing a\nlarge permanent population of various national descent and of all\nclasses of society, not a few of whom were converts from South\nCarolina families, an unusually large number of intelligent young\nmen, trained up to a great extent under the care of the clergy,\nand thus giving scope and affording a field for a man like F.\nBaker to display his special gifts to the greatest advantage and\nprofit--it is not surprising that he should have called out, both\nin his public discharge of duty and in private and social\nintercourse, that same warm admiration which had followed him in\nthe former period of his life. In his sermons, he went far above\nhis former level, and began to develop that combination of the\nbest and most perfect elements of sacred eloquence, which, in the\nestimation of the most impartial and competent judges, placed him\nin the first rank of preachers. The present bishop of Charleston,\nwhose pre-eminent learning and high qualities of mind are well\nknown, pronounced one of F. Baker's discourses a perfect sermon,\nand the best he had ever heard.\n{169}\nThe Catholics of Charleston never saw Father Baker again; but\nthey never forgot him, and he never forgot them; for, during the\nrest of his too short life, he recurred frequently to the\nremembrance of that mission, which was so rich in the highest\nkind of pleasure, as well as spiritual profit and blessing.\n\nAt that time, all was peace. Sumter was solitary and silent,\nuntenanted by a single soldier. Fort Moultrie and Sullivan's\nIsland, and the beautiful battery and the bay were calm and\npeaceful, where, a few years later, all was black and angry with\nthe terrible thunder-storm of war. Blackened ruins are all that\nremain of that beautiful cathedral and the pleasant home of the\nclergy. Some of those clergymen have died in attending the sick\nsoldiers of the United States, and others are scattered in\ndifferent places. Many of those fine young men and bright boys\nhave left their bodies on the battle-field, or lost the bloom and\nvigor of their youth in the unwholesome camp or hospital or\nmilitary prison. The good Sisters have been driven from one\nshelter to another, by the terrible necessities of a desperate\nwarfare, whose miseries they have courageously striven to\nalleviate by their heroic charity. Charleston has been desolated,\nand the Church of Charleston has shared in the common ruin.\nNevertheless, there is every reason to hope that this temporary\nperiod of desolation will be succeeded in due time by one more\nauspicious for the solid and extensive progress of the Catholic\nreligion than any which has yet been seen, in that vast region\nwhere the eloquent voice of Bishop England proclaimed the blessed\nfaith of the true and apostolic Church of Christ.\n\nAfter the conclusion of the Charleston mission, F. Baker returned\nto Annapolis, and remained there in charge of the little parish\nattached to the convent, until the following September. One of\nhis companions, the invalid of St. Augustine, went to Cuba to\nre-establish his health; and the other three, after giving\nseveral other missions in New York State, returned also to summer\nquarters.\n\n{170}\n\nThe missionary labors in which F. Baker had been thus far\nengaged, were, comparatively speaking, but a light and pleasant\nprelude to the continuous and arduous missionary career of a\nlittle more than seven years, which he commenced in the autumn of\n1857. At the very outset he was obliged to make a decision of a\nvery grave and important matter, which resulted in a still more\ncomplete separation from the scenes and associates of his past\nlife, and threw him more completely upon a pure and conscientious\ndevotion to his priestly duties for the sake of God alone, as his\nonly consolation in this world.\n\nOne of our number was at that time in Rome, for the purpose of\nobtaining from the chief authority a settlement of certain\ndifficulties which had arisen, and which impeded the successful\nand harmonious prosecution of the missions. The question was\nfinally settled by a separation of five American Redemptorists,\nby a brief of the Holy Father, from their former congregation,\nand the formation of the new Congregation of St. Paul, under\nepiscopal authority. F. Baker was for the first time informed of\nthe reasons for appealing to the decision of the Holy Father, at\nthe mission of St. James's Church, Newark, which commenced on the\n26th of September, 1857. I have no intention of exposing the\nhistory of the difference which arose between us and our former\nreligious superiors, or of making a criticism upon their conduct.\nIf the providence of God ordered events in such a way that a new\ncongregation should be formed for a special purpose, it is\nnothing new or strange that men, having a different vocation, and\nwhose views and aims were cast in a different mould, should with\nthe most conscientious intentions, be unable to coincide in\njudgment or act in concert. There is room in the Catholic Church\nfor every kind of religious organization, suiting all the\nvarieties of mind and character and circumstance.\n{171}\nIf collisions and misunderstandings often come between those who\nhave the same great end in view, this is the result of human\ninfirmity, and only shows how imperfect and partial are human\nwisdom and human virtue. All that I am concerned to show is, that\nF. Baker did not swerve from his original purpose in choosing the\nreligious state. He had never been discontented with his state,\nor with his superiors. He was still in the first fervor of his\nvocation, and had just made a strict and exact retreat. He\ndeliberated for some weeks within his own mind, without saying or\ndoing any thing to commit himself to any particular line of\nconduct. When he finally made up his mind to cast in his lot with\nhis missionary companions, and to abide with them the decision of\nthe Holy Father, it was solely in view of serving God and his\nfellow-men in the most perfect manner. For the congregation where\nhe was trained to the religious and ecclesiastical state, he\nalways retained a sincere esteem and affection. He did not ask\nthe Pope for a dispensation from his vows in order to be relieved\nfrom a burdensome obligation, but only on the condition that it\nseemed best to him to terminate the difficulty which had arisen\nin that way. When the dispensation was granted, he did not change\nhis life for a more easy one. He resisted a pressing solicitation\nto return to Baltimore as a secular priest, and continued until\nhis death to labor in a missionary life, and to practise the\npoverty, the obedience, the assiduity in prayer and meditation,\nand the seclusion from the world, which belong to the religious\nstate. Let no one, therefore, who is disposed to yield to\ntemptations against his vocation, and to abandon the religious\nstate from weariness, tepidity, or any unworthy motive, think to\nfind any encouragement in the example of F. Baker; for his\naustere, self-denying, and arduous life will give him only\nrebuke, and not encouragement.\n\n{172}\n\nDuring the entire autumn and winter of this year, F. Baker and\nhis companions were occupied in a continuous course of large and\nsuccessful missions, in the parishes of St. James, Newark; Cold\nSpring and Poughkeepsie, on the Hudson; St. John's, Utica, N. Y.;\nBrandywine, Del.; Trenton, N. J.; Burlington, Brandon, East and\nWest Rutland, Vt.; Plattsburg, Saratoga, and Little Falls, New\nYork. With loyal hearts we continued to obey our superiors, and\nfulfil our obligations as Redemptorists, until the supreme\nauthority in the Church released us by his decree. This decree\nwas issued on the 6th of March, 1858, and received by us on the\n6th of April. After the Mission of Little Falls, F. Baker was\ndirected by the Provincial to return to Annapolis, and although\nfatigued by the missions, and aware that his dispensation was on\nthe way, yet, true to the letter to his principle of obedience,\nhe obeyed at once. The other three missionaries passed the Holy\nWeek and Easter in the convent of New York, in Third street, and,\nafter receiving the official copy of the Papal decree, bade\nfarewell to the congregation where we had passed so many happy\nyears, and witnessed so many edifying examples of high virtue and\ndevoted zeal, to enter upon a new and untried undertaking.\n\nOur first asylum was the home of Geo. V. Hecker, Esq., who kindly\ngave up to our use a portion of his house as a little temporary\nconvent, where we remained some weeks, saying Mass in his\nbeautiful private chapel, which was completely furnished with\nevery thing necessary for that purpose. The Bishop of Newark had\nmade an arrangement to receive us under his jurisdiction, as soon\nas our relation to our congregation was terminated, and faculties\nfrom the diocese of New York were obtained from the archbishop.\nWe continued to follow our accustomed mode of life, and obey our\nformer Superior of the Missions. After a short time we gave a\nmission at Watertown, in the diocese of Albany, and were not a\nlittle encouraged by receiving, late on the Saturday evening\nbefore the mission was opened, the special faculties which had\nbeen obtained for each one of us at Rome, for giving the Papal\nBenediction.\n{173}\nThe grand and spacious church of this beautiful town, which is\nworthy to be a cathedral from its size and architecture, was\ncrowded by the largest number of Protestants we had ever seen on\nsimilar occasion, and a number of converts were received into the\nChurch. From Watertown we came to St. Bridget's Church in New\nYork, where we had one of our largest, most laborious, and most\nfruitful missions. This was the first one of those heavy city\nmissions so frequent during our early career, at which F. Baker\nhad assisted, where the crowds of people were so overwhelming,\nand the labor so excessive and exhausting. He went into his work\nwith a brave spirit and an untiring zeal, and scarcely allowed\nhimself even a breathing-spell. The love and admiration which the\nwarm-hearted people of this congregation acquired for him was\nnever diminished, and there was no one whom they ever after loved\nso much to see revisiting their church. Before the close, F.\nHecker arrived from Rome, after a year's absence, bringing a\nspecial benediction from the Holy Father upon our future labors,\nand a warm commendatory letter from the Cardinal Prefect of the\nPropaganda. At the end of the mission we found ourselves without\na home, and we remained so until the spring of the following\nyear, dependent for the most part on the hospitality of\nindividual friends among the clergy and laity for a temporary\nshelter. For a short time we were obliged to take lodgings in an\nordinary respectable boarding-house in Thirteenth street, near\nseveral churches and chapels, where we could say Mass every day,\nwithout incommoding anyone. Our kind friend and generous patron,\nMr. Hecker, afterward gave up to us his whole house, while his\nfamily were in the country; leaving his servants, and making\nample provision for furnishing us with every comfort in the most\nhospitable style. During the summer, the \"Congregation of\nMissionary Priests of St. Paul the Apostle\" was organized, under\nthe approbation and authority of the archbishop; and arrangements\nwere commenced for the foundation of a religious house and\nchurch, with a parochial charge annexed.\n{174}\nWhile we were occupying Mr. Hecker's house, two burglars entered\nthe building one night, through a window incautiously left open,\ncame into the room occupied by F. Baker and one of his\ncompanions, and robbed them of their watches, which were\nfortunately of small value, some articles of clothing, likewise\nnot very costly, and a trifling amount of loose change; but,\nseeing two other men of no small stature in the adjoining room,\nprudently decamped, without finding a number of costly articles\nbelonging to the chapel, although they had examined the drawer\nwhere the albs and amices were kept. None of us were awakened,\nand the first news we had of the midnight raid upon our territory\nwas given by F. Baker exclaiming that his coat had been stolen.\nWe laughed at him at first, but it was soon discovered that his\nintelligence was correct, and that the next house had been\nvisited also by the robbers. This adventure gave occasion for a\ngreat deal of mirth among ourselves, and many speculations as to\nthe probable results of an encounter with the robbers, in case we\nhad awakened, in which fatal consequences to the latter were\nfreely predicted. As usual in such cases, the police examined the\nmatter, gave very sagacious information as to the mode of\nentrance and exit, and discovered no trace of the burglars\nthemselves. We were only too happy that the chalice and vestments\nhad not been carried off.\n\nThe burden which was assumed by our small community was a very\nheavy one. It was necessary for us to continue the missions\nwithout interruption, and at the same time to provide the means\nof making a permanent foundation, which could not be done without\nsecuring property, and erecting a church and religious house at a\ncost of about $65,000. During this time of struggle for life, F.\nBaker was one of the main stays of the missions, and one of the\nmost arduous and efficient of our number in working at the\ncollection of funds and the organization of the parish.\n{175}\nAfter a summer spent in this latter work, a course of missions\nwas commenced in September, the first of which was a heavy one,\nin a congregation numbering 5,000 souls, at the cathedral of\nProvidence, in which we were all engaged. The next was a retreat\ngiven to men alone, and specifically to the members of the\nSociety of St. Vincent de Paul, in the cathedral of New York. F.\nBaker closed it with a magnificent sermon in his happiest vein,\non \"The Standard of Christian Character for men in the world.\"\nThe following notice of the retreat, taken from the _Freeman's\nJournal_, is more graphic than any that I can give, and I\ntherefore quote it entire, in place of describing it in my own\nlanguage:--\n\n  \"The retreat given by the band of Missionaries of St. Paul the\n  Apostle to members of St. Vincent de Paul's Society, and other\n  men of this city, closed on Sunday evening, the Rev. Father\n  Baker preaching an admirable sermon on the characteristics of\n  Christian perfection for men in the world. During the week that\n  this retreat has continued, the number of men approaching the\n  sacraments was about two thousand. The religious effects of the\n  occasion will be great and permanent. But besides results that\n  the Catholic faith leads to expect, St. Patrick's Cathedral\n  has, the past week, presented a subject for thought and\n  astonishment to the observing and reflecting man, though not a\n  Catholic. What has gathered these crowds of busy, practical\n  men? What keeps them kneeling, or standing quietly in solid\n  masses, for an hour before the exercises commence? Most of\n  these men rose from their beds at four o'clock, some as early\n  as half-past three, and made long walks through the darkness to\n  secure their standing-place in the church during the early\n  instructions. They hear from the pulpit solid, distinct,\n  earnest instructions in regard to what a man must believe, and\n  in regard to what he must do to attain eternal life when this\n  world is past. But whence comes this lively appreciation of\n  truths beyond the reach of the senses, in the minds of men\n  plunged all day long, and every day, in material occupations?\n{176}\n  Here are men of the class that, in communities not Catholic, do\n  not suffer religion to interfere with their comfort--who like\n  best to discuss the points of their religious profession after\n  dinner, and to listen to sermons while seated in cushioned\n  pews. What causes them thus to stand in the packed throng of\n  the faithful, listening to the homely details of daily duties\n  required of them, or kneeling on the hard floor, repeating with\n  the multitude, in a loud voice, the prayers they learned in\n  childhood? Then, these sons of humblest toil that kneel beside\n  them. All the heat and excitement of the \"revival\" failed to\n  bring any considerable number of the corresponding class of\n  non-Catholics to the \"prayer-meetings.\" The latter mentioned\n  would say that they had to look out for their daily bread, and\n  that the rich men at the prayer-meetings did not want them any\n  way. Here they are at St. Patrick's, by five o'clock in the\n  morning, and either they do without their breakfast, or it was\n  dispatched an hour or more before. These various classes of\n  men, having attended the exercises given by the Missionaries of\n  St. Paul, during the week, stood crowded within St. Patrick's\n  on Sunday evening. The parting instruction of the missionaries\n  was to stir them, by all the courage and fervor and endurance\n  that they had manifested during the retreat, to fix higher\n  principles and firmer purposes for the guidance of their future\n  life--to be faithful to every duty, to their families, to\n  society, and to themselves--to be manly in their religious\n  observances, and generous in sacrificing for their faith and\n  for God every attachment that brings scandal on their religion\n  or danger to their own virtue. At the close of the exercises by\n  the missionaries, the Most Rev. Archbishop Hughes made some\n  remarks to the vast congregation. He said he found no necessity\n  of adding any thing to what the missionaries, according to the\n  special objects of their calling, had done, to cause the truths\n  most appropriate and necessary to sink into hearts so well\n  prepared to receive and retain them.\n{177}\n  But the spectacle before him was one he could not let pass\n  without some words expressive of his gratification. When a few\n  Catholic young men first met in the archbishops's house to form\n  the first Conference of St. Vincent de Paul, he had formed high\n  anticipations of the good their association would do each other\n  and the Catholic community at large. Here, to-night, he saw the\n  realization of his hopes. When he reflected on the influence\n  that must be exerted on the Catholic body, and on this great\n  city--where, alas, there was no other religion capable of\n  influencing and restraining men except the Catholic--by so\n  great a company of men instructed in their religion, and\n  fervent in its practice--he had the wish that such meetings for\n  these exercises, might, at intervals, be repeated in all the\n  Catholic churches in the city. He then thanked the missionaries\n  for their labors--he knew they asked not thanks from men--but\n  still it was due that he, in the name of those who had been\n  benefited by their exercises, should thank them.\n\n  \"This retreat for men has been, in some respects, of especial\n  interest, and has been highly successful; and, for the complete\n  satisfaction that it has afforded, it must be said that nothing\n  which discreet forethought and arrangement, or affectionate\n  zeal and assiduity could effect, was left undone by the Very\n  Rev. Mr. Starrs, V. G. and Rector of the Cathedral.\"\n\nThe third mission was given at the cathedral of Covington, when\nthe following circumstance occurred. A Protestant gentleman, who\nwas present one evening, had a phial of poison in his pocket,\nwith which he was fully determined to destroy his own life; but\nthe sermon of F. Baker on the Particular Judgment made such a\npowerful impression on his mind that he threw away the poison and\ndisclosed to his friends what his desperate purpose had been.\nFrom Covington, F. Hecker returned to New York, to attend to our\naffairs there, and F. Baker with two companions went on a tour of\nmissions, which continued from November until Christmas, in the\nState of Michigan.\n{178}\nThe flourishing parishes located in the pretty villages of\nKalamazoo, Marshall, Jackson, and Ann Arbor, were the ones\nvisited. The last of these missions deserves a special notice,\nwhich I extract from the \"Records\":--\n\n  \"The pastor of the church in Ann Arbor has two congregations\n  under his charge, one at Ann Arbor, and the other at\n  Northfield. The latter is the larger of the two, and it was\n  earnestly desired that we should give them a separate mission.\n  We were told that it was vain to expect them to come to the\n  service at Ann Arbor, and, as they were already jealous of the\n  Ann Arbor people, if we did not give them a mission of their\n  own, their dissatisfaction would be increased, and we should do\n  more harm than good by our visit. We on our part would have\n  been willing to give them a double mission; but as there was no\n  house near the Northfield church where the missionaries could\n  lodge, it was decided to be impossible, and we concluded that\n  one of the fathers should go out on Sunday and announce the\n  mission to the Northfield people, and invite them to attend at\n  Ann Arbor. The result proved the wisdom of the decision, for\n  the people came in from the country in crowds, thus increasing\n  the life and animation of the mission. The weather was mild and\n  pleasant, the nights were bright and moonlit, and every morning\n  and evening crowds of wagons were drawn up around the church,\n  some from ten, some from fifteen, and some even from twenty\n  miles off. The church was crowded by five o'clock in the\n  morning, and the congregation, not content with assisting at\n  one Mass and the Instruction, remained until late in the\n  morning, when the Masses were all over. In the evening, the\n  crowd was rendered still denser by the large representation of\n  Protestants who attended. On the last night, the crowd was so\n  great, that not only was the church packed in every part to its\n  utmost capacity, but even the windows were filled with young\n  men who had climbed up from without, and the trees around the\n  church offered a perch for those who had to content themselves\n  with a bird's-eye view of the scene.\"\n\n{179}\n\nI have noticed this mission more particularly, because this\nNorthfield congregation was a specimen of several Catholic\nfarming communities with which we came in contact on our\nmissions. The prosperity, happiness, and virtue which I have\nfound existing among this class of our people, induce me to\nrecommend most earnestly to all those who have at heart the\nwelfare of our Catholic Irish population, to promote in every way\ntheir devoting themselves to agricultural pursuits in the\ncountry. It would be a great blessing if the large towns could be\ndepleted of the surplus population with which they are\novercrowded, and the tide of immigration diverted from them, to\nbe distributed over our vast territory. This agricultural life is\nincomparably more wholesome, more happy, and more favorable to\nvirtue and piety than the feverish, comfortless, and unnatural\nexistence to which the mass of the laboring class are condemned\nin large cities. It is free from a thousand influences vitiating\nboth to the soul and the body, and, above all things, better for\nthe proper training of children. Our young men and women of\nAmerican origin are deserting this agricultural life, and leaving\nvacant the fields of their fathers, to plunge into a more\nexciting and adventurous life, which promises to satisfy more\nspeedily their desire for wealth. Let our young Irishmen, who\ncome here to find a better field for their strength and vigor\nthan they have at home, and those who have grown up here, but\nfind themselves unable to get a proper field for their industry\nin the old and crowded settlements, come in and take their\nplaces, leave the cities, shun the factory towns, and strike into\nthe open country. Sobriety, industry, and prudence, will secure\nto every young man of this sort, in due time, the position of an\nindependent land-holder. There is a hidden treasure of wealth,\nhealth, virtue, and happiness in the soil, which will richly\nreward those who dig for it, and will also enrich both the\ncountry and the Church.\n\n{180}\n\nI may also mention with pleasure, in connection with the Ann\nArbor Mission, my agreeable recollections of the polite\nattentions we received from the president and gentlemen of the\nUniversity of Michigan. This is by no means a solitary instance\nof courtesy extended to us in the Protestant community. In many\nparts of the United States, we have received the most polite and\nfriendly attentions, and occasionally hospitable entertainment,\nboth from clergymen and laymen of different religious\ndenominations, as well as a general manifestation of respect and\ngood-will on the part of the community. Sometimes the mission has\nexcited ill-will, and obstacles have been thrown in the way of\ndomestics and other dependent persons attending it. But in many\nother cases, not only has there been no interference, but every\nfacility has been given, by owners of factories, who have\nshortened the time of work and given leave of absence, and by\nmasters and mistresses of families, who have excused their\nservants from their ordinary work, and even furnished them with\nconveyances, when they lived at a distance.\n\nFrom Michigan, the missionaries returned to New York, and after\nNew Year's, being rejoined by Father Hecker, gave a mission in\nSt. Mary's Church, New Haven, a large and very flourishing\nparish, which is, however, only one of three in the classic \"City\nof Elms;\" where, thirty-five years ago, there was not a Catholic\nto be found, except, perhaps, one or two serving-men in wealthy\nfamilies.\n\nAfter this mission, I revisited several of the places where we\nhad given missions in South Carolina and Georgia, to solicit aid\nfor our infant community, which was given in a liberal and\ngenerous manner, worthy of those warm-hearted Catholics, who, I\ntrust, will receive a similar return from their Northern\nbrethren, whenever they ask for it, to enable them to repair the\nruin which has been made among them by civil war.\n\n{181}\n\nDuring my absence, two missions were given by the other three\nfathers--one at Princeton, where the church was broken down by\nthe throng, and whose young pastor has since joined our\ncommunity: another at Belleville, which has been so beautifully\ndescribed by the amiable pastor of that place, that I cannot\nrefrain from copying his sketch:--\n\n  \"At the above-mentioned place, the Rev. Fathers Hecker, Deshon,\n  and Baker opened a mission, Sunday, February 13, which\n  continued during a week, and closed on the evening of the\n  Sunday following. To say that it was most successful, is too\n  cold an expression; and to call it most impressive, beautiful,\n  and triumphant, can give no adequate idea of its enchanting\n  power. During the week of its continuance, the hill that is\n  crowned by the graceful Church of St. Peter, with its tall\n  steeple and gilded cross, marking the first of a series of\n  eminences that rise higher and higher westward from the River\n  Passaic, has almost realized Mount Thabor. The eager people of\n  the country round had been beforehand preparing for the arrival\n  of the missionaries, and no sooner did the good fathers come\n  than the faithful people rose up in haste to meet them. Down\n  they came, the children of old Roscommon and Mayo, from the\n  romantic hills of Caldwell on the west, along the glades and\n  woody slopes of Bloomfield, saluting, as they passed, their\n  newly-built Church of 'Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception.'\n  Onward and upward, too, were hastening from the north and east,\n  through Acquackanouck and Belleville, those who long ago left\n  the Boyne and the Luir, the Liffey and Shannon, to cultivate\n  the valley of the scarcely less beautiful Passaic. A thin,\n  sparkling frost still lay upon the roads; and the crisping\n  sounds of their hurrying feet, 'beautiful with glad tidings,'\n  and their cheerfully ringing voices, far and near, were heard\n  along the banks and over the drawbridge of that beautiful\n  river--beautiful at half-past four in the balmy morning\n  air--quivering under the hovering, waning moon, the deep-blue\n  sky, and the twinkling stars.\n{182}\n  But the people of the valley have ascended the hill from whence\n  the loud bell of St. Peter's steeple has been awakening the\n  country for miles around with its clear and booming sounds.\n  They meet their brethren from Bloomfield and Caldwell, and\n  pause for a moment before the double flight of steps leading up\n  to the portico of the church. Every window gleams with light.\n  The organ and choir are intoning and singing the Litany of the\n  Blessed Virgin Mary, 'Sancta Virgo Virginum,' Holy Virgin of\n  Virgins, pray for us.' 'I thought I was before the bell,'\n  exclaims a young woman, just come from several miles off, as\n  she flits hastily through the doorway to be in time for Mass.\n  But the priest, in his shining vestments, with his little\n  surpliced attendants, is already at the altar; and, it being\n  five o'clock, the first Mass of the morning has punctually\n  begun. The weather, however, at two or three other intervals of\n  the mission, was not quite so propitious, nor the roads so\n  pleasant; for thaws and occasional rain had softened the latter\n  to a disagreeable extent. But this mattered nothing to the\n  seamless robe of the Faith, which is proof against all\n  weathers; for St. Peter's was thronged morning and evening\n  alike while the mission lasted. Many were the expedients\n  resorted to by poor mothers, for trusty guardians to mind the\n  little ones during their absence at church. In several\n  instances, a mother would charge herself with the children of\n  two or three others; or some kind-hearted Protestant would take\n  this care upon her. But not unfrequently the little ones were\n  deposited in the basement of the church; and it was interesting\n  to see the German mother place her infant in the Irish-woman's\n  arms, while she herself hastened up with the crowd to receive\n  communion at the altar-rail--a crowd of old and young, dotted\n  here and there with the Hollander, the German, the French, and\n  the English or American Catholic.\n{183}\n  The morning instruction was usually given by Father Hecker,\n  whose appearance and manner' were well calculated to cheer up\n  the people, even to alacrity, under their daily difficulties of\n  faithful attendance, late and early, on the mission-whether he\n  related the anecdote of the old man, who, early in the morning,\n  after most determined efforts to be faithful to the mission,\n  vanquished the temptation of his warm bed, and finally\n  succeeded in reaching the church in the teeth of a snow-storm,\n  with inverted umbrella; or, when urging the duty of virtuous\n  perseverance, he gave his celebrated allegory of the pike of\n  the Mississippi, who, terrified one night by an unusual display\n  of fireworks on its banks, vowed he would swallow no more\n  little fishes, but afterward relapsed into his intemperate\n  proclivities, and became worse than ever. In the evening,\n  Father Deshon ended his most interesting instruction with the\n  recitation of the Rosary, responded to aloud by the whole\n  congregation. This was followed by Father Baker's sermon and\n  the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Besides the\n  overflowing attendance of the faithful, the knowledge of the\n  missionaries themselves being Americans and converts from\n  Protestantism, brought hundreds of Protestants of all classes\n  nightly, many of whom were present at every sermon; and they\n  were as sensibly moved even to tears and audible grief, by the\n  power and holiness of the preacher's eloquence, as the\n  Catholics themselves. But the last night's scene will long be\n  remembered--the renewal of baptismal vows, with uplifted hands,\n  by the entire assemblage, which the strongly-built church\n  somehow or other contrived to accommodate, sitting and standing\n  in the pews, passages, gallery, and sacristy, and close around\n  the sanctuary, to the number of some thirteen or fourteen\n  hundred. The interior of the church was but lately remodelled\n  and decorated, and its pale rose-colored walls and ceiling were\n  charmingly varied by their white ornamental centers and\n  panelled mouldings.\n{184}\n  The statues of the Blessed Virgin and St. Peter at either side\n  of the sanctuary rested on tasteful pedestals, which supported\n  four lofty Corinthian columns and their pilasters. These pure\n  white, fluted, and tapering columns, with their rich capitals\n  and entablature, the altar, tabernacle, and almost life-size\n  crucifix, the high-raised marble font and its pendent baptismal\n  robe of snowy lace--all these, contrasted with the dark and\n  lofty missionary cross, and the crucifixion winding scarf hung\n  athwart it, became of an almost white and dazzling beauty, amid\n  the innumerable lights, silver and gilded candelabra, and vases\n  of a countless variety of natural flowers. It is a pleasing\n  thought, that much of the plate alluded to was lent for the\n  occasion by kind-hearted Protestants of the neighborhood, in\n  whose estimation this mission has exalted the Catholic Church\n  to a surprising degree. At the same time it may be said, that\n  few or no places in the country are more remarkable than\n  Belleville, N. J., for kind cordiality on the part of the\n  Protestant community toward the Catholic. But the last scene,\n  like a beautiful vision, is now over. The missionaries have\n  given their blessing to the crowd, among whom is a Protestant\n  young lady, who comes also to seek it before the carriage shall\n  have borne them away. One convert was baptized on the morning\n  of their departure. Another will be in a day or two hence. More\n  are in reserve for this sacred rite. Upward of eleven hundred\n  and thirty Catholics have received the Holy Eucharist; many of\n  them old men, and many youths, who, but for the influence of\n  the mission, would not have approached the sacraments for\n  years--perhaps never. Young, wavering Catholics, already more\n  than half lost to the faith, have been reclaimed and fortified.\n  A. rich legacy of Catholic truth has been left to vanquish\n  falsehood and error, which, in Belleville and its neighborhood,\n  must cower for many a day before the memory of the Missionaries\n  of St. Paul the Apostle.\" [Footnote 7]\n\n    [Footnote 7: New York _Tablet_.]\n\n{185}\n\nOn the 20th of March, 1859, a mission was opened in St. Patrick's\nChurch, Quebec, by the special invitation of the Administrator of\nthe diocese. It would be easy to fill pages with reminiscences of\nthis mission, given in a city so replete with interest of every\nkind, and full of pleasant recollections. The mission was a very\nlarge one; as we had seven thousand two hundred and fifty\ncommunions, and fifty converts received into the Church. It was\npeculiarly satisfactory, also, from the circumstance that the\nchurch was large enough to contain all the people who desired to\nget in, though it was densely crowded, and that the most abundant\nfacilities were furnished to all who wished to come to\nconfession--there being nineteen confessors, of whom fifteen were\nclergymen of the diocese.\n\nThe soldiers of the garrison attend this church, where they have\non Sundays a special Mass and sermon from their chaplain. The\nThirty-ninth Regiment, of Crimean memory, was stationed there at\nthat time, and as many as were able to get leave, as well as a\nnumber of Catholic soldiers from the artillery battalion and the\nCanadian Rifles, attended the mission. Some of these Crimean\nveterans made their first communion, and others came to\nconfession who had made their last confession before some one of\nthe great battles of the Crimea. One of them, who was unable to\nget through the crowd after service, arrived after taps at his\nbarracks, for which he was sent by the sergeant to the\nguard-house, and reported to the colonel the next morning.\nColonel Monroe, the same officer who commanded the regiment in\nthe Crimea, tore up the report and released the soldier from\ncustody, saying that it was a shame to punish a man for going to\nthe mission, which had done his regiment more good than any thing\nelse that ever happened in Quebec.\n\n{186}\n\nWe had several invitations to give missions in the British\nProvinces, which it was necessary to decline, and, after taking\nleave of Quebec, where we had received such unbounded kindness\nand attention, both from the clergy and laity, we gave our last\nmission for the season in St. Peter's Church, Troy, then under\nthe care of Father Walworth. From Troy we returned to New York,\nwhere a small house had been rented for our use, near the site of\nour new religious house and church.\n\nDuring the summer of 1859, the work of collecting funds, by\npublic contributions in churches, and private subscriptions, was\ncontinued, and the building, which was to serve as a religious\nhouse, was erected; a large portion of it being thrown into a\ncommodious and tolerably spacious chapel, which could be used as\na temporary parish church for some years, until circumstances\nwould warrant the erection of a permanent church edifice. The\ncorner-stone was laid by the archbishop, on Trinity Sunday, June\n19, in presence of an immense concourse of people. On the 24th of\nNovember, the Feast of St. John of the Cross, the house was\nblessed by the superior of the congregation, and taken possession\nof. The first Mass was said in it on the following day, in one of\nthe rooms arranged as a private chapel. On the first Sunday of\nAdvent, November 27, the chapel was blessed, and Solemn Mass\ncelebrated in it by the Vicar-General of the diocese; and from\nthis time commenced the double labors of both parochial and\nmissionary duty. An accession to our small number of one more\npriest, Father Tillotson, who had been previously residing in\nEngland as a member of the Birmingham Oratory, enabled us to do\nthis--an undertaking which would otherwise have been extremely\ndifficult. Three of our number, of whom F. Baker was generally\none, could now be spared for the missions, leaving two in charge\nof the parish; and by relieving one another occasionally, the\nlabor was somewhat lightened. Within the next two years our\nnumber was further increased by the accession of two others--one\nof whom, F. Walworth, had been for a long time the superior of\nour missionary band, and now rejoined it, after a short interval,\nin which he had been fulfilling parochial duty as pastor of St.\nPeter's Church, Troy.\n{187}\nStrengthened by these accessions, we were enabled, while our\nnumber remained undiminished by death, and all were blessed with\nthe health and strength necessary to the performance of active\nlabor, to carry on a continuous course of missions during seven\nyears, dating from the time of our separate organization; and at\nthe same time to bestow abundant care and attention on our\ncontinually increasing parish. Three of these missions were given\nin the British Provinces--in the cathedral, of St. John's, N. B.,\nHalifax, and Kingston, Canada, respectively; the remainder\nchiefly in New England, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania,\nwith a small number in the Western States. The details already\ngiven of previous missions are amply sufficient to give an idea\nof the missionary life of F. Baker, and it would be wearisome to\ncontinue them. These seven years, with the year immediately\npreceding them, comprise the most laborious and most fruitful\nportion of his too short priestly life. The number of missions\ngiven in this period of seven years was seventy-nine, with an\naggregate of one hundred and sixty-six thousand communions, the\nsame number with that of the missions of the preceding seven\nyears. Father Baker assisted at sixty-four of these missions, and\nat sixteen previously given, making a sum-total of eighty. The\nnumber of converts from Protestantism registered is two hundred\nand sixty-three, and the record is imperfect. Two of these were\nProtestant clergymen--one the rector of the Episcopal Church in\nScranton, Pa.; the other, the principal of the High School in\nPittsfield, Mass.\n\nIt only remains now to say a few words of the virtues exhibited\nby F. Baker, in his missionary, sacerdotal, and religious life.\nThose high and noble virtues are best made known by a simple\nrecord in his deeds, and by the utterance which he has himself\nbequeathed in his own sermons, in which the lofty standard of\nChristian perfection proposed to others is a simple reflection of\nwhat he actually practised in his life.\n\n{188}\n\nFather Baker usually passed from seven to eight months of every\nyear in the labors of the missionary life, and in those labors,\nas a member of a body of hard-working men, he was pre-eminent for\nthe assiduity and perseverance with which he devoted himself to\nthe most arduous and fatiguing occupations of his peculiar state.\nHe usually said Mass at five o'clock, after which he went to the\nconfessional till half-past seven. From nine until one, and from\nthree until half-past six, he was in his confessional, rarely\nleaving it even for a moment. At half-past seven, on those\nevenings when he was not to preach, he gave the instruction and\nrecited the prayers which preceded the principal sermon. A\nconsiderable part of the remaining time was taken up by reciting\nhis office and other private religious duties, leaving but very\nlittle for relaxation, and none whatever for exercise, unless it\nwas snatched at some brief interval, or required by the distance\nof the church from the pastor's residence. During the first few\ndays of each mission, the confessionals were not opened, and the\npreacher of the evening sermon was always freed from its labors\nin the afternoon. Frequently, however, those first days were\ndevoted to a special mission given to the children of the\ncongregation; and F. Baker was always prompt and ready to fulfil\nthis duty, which he did in the most admirable manner, adapting\nhimself with a charming and winning grace and simplicity to the\ntender age and understanding of the little ones, and reciting\nwith them beautiful forms of meditation and prayer, composed by\nhimself, during the whole time of the Mass at which they received\ncommunion. The hardest part of the work of the mission, after the\nconfessions began, was continued during from five to eleven\nsuccessive days, according to the size of the congregation, and\nrequiring from ten to twelve hours of constant mental application\neach day.\n{189}\nBesides this necessary and ordinary work, performed with the most\npatient and unflagging assiduity, F. Baker often employed all the\nremaining intervals of time--not taken up by meals and sleep--in\ninstructing adult Catholics who had never been prepared for the\nsacraments, and in instructing and receiving converts. Wherever\nthere was any work of charity to be done, he undertook it\nquietly, promptly, and cheerfully, always ready to spare others,\nand willing to relieve them by assuming their duties when they\nwere exhausted or unwell, seldom asking to be relieved himself.\nIt was never necessary to remind F. Baker of his duty, much less\nto give him any positive command. During a long course of\nmissions, in which I was superior, with F. Baker as my constant\ncompanion and my associate in preaching the mission sermons, and\none other long-tried companion as the preacher of the\ncatechetical instructions, I remember, with peculiar\nsatisfaction, how perfect was the harmony with which we\nco-operated with one another, without the least necessity of any\nexercise of authority, or any disagreement of moment.\n\nTo understand fully how arduous was the work which F. Baker\nperformed, it must be considered that not only was his mind and\nhis whole moral nature taxed to the utmost by the continued\neffort necessary in order to fulfil his duty as a preacher and\nconfessor, but that it was done under circumstances most\nunfavorable to health, shut up in crowded, ill-ventilated rooms,\npressed upon by impatient throngs, forced to strain the vocal\norgans to the utmost in large churches crowded with dense masses\nof people, and often obliged to pass suddenly from an overheated\nand stifling atmosphere into an intensely cold or damp air, and\nalways obliged to work, for several hours in the morning,\nfasting. Such a life is a very severe strain upon one who has\nonly the ordinary American constitution, especially if his\ntemperament is delicate and unaccustomed to hardship in early\nlife. The amount of work which F. Baker performed was not equal\nto that which many European missionaries are able to endure,\nespecially those who have an unusually robust constitution.\n{190}\nBut it was greater than that which St. Alphonsus himself required\nof the missionaries who were under his own personal direction.\nThe average duration of a career of continuous missionary labor\nin Europe is only ten years, and it is therefore not surprising\nthat F. Baker was able to continue such constant and arduous\nexertions, with the other duties which devolved on him during the\nintervals of missions, for no longer a period than eight years.\n\nAt least as far back as the year 1861, he began to suffer from a\nmalady of the throat, and to find the effort of preaching\npainful. Nevertheless, he continued to perform his full share of\nthis duty until within a year before his death. Occasionally it\nwould be necessary to relieve him of some of his sermons; and on\nthe last mission which we gave together, which was in St. James's\nChurch, Salem, Massachusetts, he asked to be relieved altogether\nboth from the sermons and the short instructions which precede\nthem. This mission was given during the month of January, 1865.\nF. Baker assisted at two other missions after this, one at\nArchbald, in Pennsylvania, and the other at Birmingham,\nConnecticut, at each of which he preached four sermons. His last\nmission sermon was preached, February 18, 1865, six weeks before\nhis death; which occurred on the last day of the next mission but\none, given at Clifton, Staten Island--twelve years from the time\nof his receiving his first communion at the mission in the\nCathedral of Baltimore.\n\nIn the discharge of the duties allotted to him in the parish, F.\nBaker labored with the same zeal and assiduity as he did in the\nmissions. He was particularly charged with the care of the altar\nand the divine service in the church, for which his thoroughly\nsacerdotal spirit, his exquisite taste, and his complete\nacquaintance with the rubrics and the details of ecclesiastical\nrites and ceremonies, gave him a special fitness.\n{191}\nHe took unwearied pains and care in providing vestments and\nornaments, preserving the sanctuary and all appertaining to it in\norder and neatness, decorating the church for great festivals,\ntraining up the boys, who served at the altar, and directing the\nmanner of performing the divine offices. This minute and exact\nattention to the beauty and propriety of the sacred ceremonies of\nthe Church, sprang from a deep, inward principle of devotion and\nlove to our Lord present in the Blessed Sacrament, to His Blessed\nMother, to the saints, and to the mysteries of the Christian\nFaith, symbolized by the outward forms of religion. In the\nperformance of his sacerdotal functions, he was a model of\ndignity, grace, and piety. He loved his duties, and was\ncompletely absorbed in his priestly office. The august Sacrifice\nand Sacrament of the Altar was his life and joy; and there he\nderived those graces and virtues which produced their choice and\nprecious fruits in his character and conduct.\n\nAs a preacher of the Divine Word, he excelled equally. His\nparochial sermons were even superior to those which he preached\non the mission. He could prepare himself more quietly; the\nexertion was not so tasking to his physical strength, and suited\nbetter the tone of his mind, which made it more pleasing and easy\nfor him to fulfil these ordinary pastoral ministrations than to\naddress great crowds of people, on occasions requiring a more\nvehement style of oratory. His published sermons will enable the\nreader to judge of his merit as a preacher, although their effect\nwas greatly increased by the impression produced by his personal\nappearance and attitude, and the charm of his voice and\nintonations. One striking feature of his sermons was the\nabundance and felicity of his quotations from Holy Scripture.\nFrequent reading and meditation of the inspired books had\nsaturated his mind with their influence, and the apposite texts\nwhich were suitable for his theme appeared to flow from his lips\nwithout an effort. Another characteristic of his preaching was,\nthat it appealed almost exclusively to the reason, and through\nthe reason to the will and conscience.\n{192}\nHis continual aim was to inculcate conscientiousness, obedience\nto the law of God, the fulfilment of the great duties of life,\nand a faithful correspondence to the divine grace. He never lost\nsight of this great end in his missionary or parochial sermons,\nbut always directed his aim to bring sinners to a renunciation of\nsin, and a fixed purpose of living always in the grace of God,\nand to bring good Christians to a high standard of practical\nperfection and solid virtue. For deep speculations in theology\nand oratorical display, he had not the slightest inclination. He\nnever desired to preach on unusual occasions or topics, but, on\nthe contrary, had an unconquerable repugnance to appear in the\npulpit, except where the sole object was to preach the gospel\nwith apostolic simplicity, for the single end of the edification\nof the people. He was not at all conscious of his own superiority\nas a preacher, and never gave his sermons for publication without\nreluctance, or from any other motive than deference to the\njudgment of his superior and his brethren. He loved and sought\nthe shade from a true and profound humility, without the\nslightest desire for applause or reputation. His manner was\nearnest and grave; at times, when the subject and occasion\nrequired it, even vehement; but equable and sustained throughout\nhis discourse, without rising to any sudden or powerful outbursts\nof eloquence. On ordinary occasions it had a calm and persuasive\nforce; enlivened with a certain pure and lofty poetic sentiment,\nwhich blended with the prevailing argumentative strain of his\nthought, pleasing the imagination just enough to facilitate the\naccess of the truth he was teaching to the reason and conscience,\nwithout weakening its power, or distracting the mind from the\nmain point. He never produced those startling effects upon his\naudience which are sometimes witnessed during a mission, by an\nappeal to their feelings; but he invariably made a profound\nimpression, which manifested itself in the deep and fixed\nattention with which he held them chained and captivated from the\nfirst to the last word he uttered.\n{193}\nHis eloquence was like the still, strong current of a deep and\nplacid river, sometimes swollen in volume and force, and\nsometimes subsiding to a more tranquil and gentle flow; but never\ndeviating from a straight course, and seldom rushing with the\nviolence of a torrent.\n\nIn his more intimate and personal relations with his penitents,\nwith the sick and afflicted whom he visited, or who came to him\nfor counsel, and with others who sought instruction, advice, or\nsympathy from him as a priestly director, F. Baker was a faithful\ncopy of the charity and suavity of his special patron--St.\nFrancis de Sales. Pure and holy as he was himself, he was\ncompassionate and indulgent to the most frail and sinful souls;\nand, without ever relaxing the uncompromising strictness of\nChristian principle, or mitigating his severe denunciations of\nsin, he was free from all rigorism toward the penitent who sought\nto rise from his sins by his aid. This benignity and charity\nattracted to him a great number of persons who were in peculiar\ndifficulties and troubles, some of whom had never had courage to\ngo to any one else. He spared no pains and trouble to help them,\nand his patience was inexhaustible. With the sick and dying he\ntook unusual pains, visiting them frequently, and often aiding\nthem to receive the sacraments devoutly by reciting prayers with\nthem from some appropriate book of devotion. He reconciled a\nnumber to the Church who had been drawn away from their religion,\nand was particularly successful in bringing to the fold of Christ\nthose who were without. The tokens of affection, gratitude, and\nsorrow which were given by great numbers at his death, were\nproofs how much he had endeared himself to all with whom he came\nin contact, and how irreparable they felt his loss to be.\n\n{194}\n\nOf F. Baker's religious character it would be difficult to say\nmuch, in addition to the portraiture of him which has been given\nin the foregoing sketch of his life. It presented no salient or\nstriking points to be seized on and particularly described. Its\ngreat beauty consisted in its quiet, equable constancy and\nharmony. He had that evenly balanced temperament ascribed to St.\nCharles Borromeo by his biographers, and regarded as the most\nfavorable to virtue. He had no favorite books of devotion, no\nspecial practices of piety or austerity, no inclination for the\nstudy of the higher mystic theology, no unusual difficulties or\ntemptations, no deep mental struggles, no scruples, no marked\nperiods of spiritual crisis and change after his conversion to\nthe Catholic Church--nothing extraordinary, except an\nextraordinary fidelity and constancy in ordinary duties and\nexercises, and extraordinary conscientiousness and purity of\nlife. He was detached from the world, and from every selfish\npassion; reserved to a remarkable degree, without the faintest\ntinge of melancholy or moroseness; collected within himself and\nin God at all times; serene and tranquil of spirit; simple,\nabstemious, and exact in his habits; with his whole heart in his\nconvent, his cell, his duties, and his religious exercises.\n\nThe character of F. Baker was very much developed during the\nlater years of his life. That passive, quiescent disposition\nwhich characterized him in his earlier career, gave place to\ngreater decision and energy. He acquired by action a more\nself-poised and determined judgment, greater self-reliance, and a\nmore marked individuality. He was no longer swayed and led by the\nopinions of others, except so far as duty required him to obey,\nor his own reason was convinced. The almost feminine delicacy and\nrefinement which he had in youth was hardened into a robust and\nmanly vigor, as it is with a softly-nurtured young soldier after\na long campaign. He exhibited also a gayety of temper, a\nliveliness in conversation, and often a rich and exuberant humor\nand playfulness, especially in depicting the variety of strange\nand amusing characters and scenes with which he came in contact\nby mixing with all classes of men, which had remained completely\nlatent in his earlier character, before it was warmed and\nexpanded by the genial influence of the Catholic religion.\n{195}\nNo one could have been a more delightful companion on the\nmission, during the intervals of rest and relaxation, than he\nwas; and he entered into the enjoyment of the occasional\nrecreations thrown in his way in traveling with the zest of a\nschoolboy on a holiday. For company he had no taste, and he could\nnot be induced to undertake any jaunt or excursion for mere\npleasure. During the summer months he would never go into the\ncountry, even for the sake of recruiting his health, but remained\nduring the hottest months at home, where he found the truest\nhappiness, pursuing the even tenor of his ordinary occupations. A\nbeautiful character! A rare specimen of the most perfect human\nnature, elevated and sanctified by divine grace, and clothed with\na bodily form which was the exact expression of the inhabiting\nsoul! To describe it is impossible. Those who knew it by personal\nacquaintance will say, without exception, that the attempt I have\nmade is completely inadequate, and, like an unsuccessful\nportrait, reproduces but a dim and indistinct image of the\noriginal. I do not mean to say that F. Baker was a perfectly\nfaultless character, or that he was without sin. Of those faults,\nhowever, which are apparent to human eyes in the exterior\nconduct, he had but few, and those slight and venial.\n\nNothing now remains but to describe the closing scene of F.\nBaker's life. I have already mentioned that his constitution had\nshown symptoms of giving way under the fatigues of his missionary\nlabors. Nevertheless, he still continued in the constant and\nactive discharge of his priestly duties, and no solicitude in\nregard to his health was felt by any of his brethren, with whom\nthese periods of physical infirmity wore an ordinary occurrence.\nOn one Sunday, a few weeks before his death, his strength failed\nhim while he was singing High Mass, and he was obliged to\ncontinue it in a low voice.\n{196}\nHe was also unable to continue the abstinence of Lent, and was\nobliged to ask for a dispensation, which I believe never occurred\nwith him before. His appearance was pale and languid, and the\nfulfilment of his duties evidently cost him an effort. We had\nbeen accustomed to sing together two of the three parts of the\nPassion on Palm Sunday, ever since the church had been opened;\nbut, in making arrangements for the services of the Holy Week for\nthis year, he remarked that we would be obliged to omit singing\nthe Passion as usual. He had marked himself, however, on the\nschedule of offices which was posted up in the library, to preach\nboth on Passion Sunday and Palm Sunday. His last Sunday sermon\nwas preached on the Second Sunday of Lent, March 12. The subject\nwas \"Heaven.\" The Wednesday evening following, he volunteered to\npreach in the place of one of his brethren who was unwell, about\nan hour before the service commenced, and left the supper-table\nto prepare himself. He took for the emergency the sermon which he\nhad first preached as a missionary, on \"The Necessity of\nSalvation;\" and this was the last regular discourse which he\ndelivered. On the following Sunday, after Vespers, he gave a\nshort conference to the Rosary Society; and after this his voice\nwas never heard again in exhortation or instruction. About this\ntime, there were several cases of typhus fever in the parish, and\nF. Baker had in some way imbibed the poison, to which his\ndelicate state of health rendered him peculiarly susceptible. On\nthe Fourth Sunday of Lent, March 26, the first symptoms of\nillness showed themselves. On the preceding evening he heard\nconfessions as usual, until about nine o'clock, after which he\ncame to the room of one of the fathers and made his own\nconfession, as he did habitually every week. The next morning he\nsaid Mass for the last time, at half-past eight, for the children\nof the Sunday-school. As I passed his door at half-past ten, to\ngo down to High Mass, he met me in the corridor, and remarked\nthat he felt too sick to go down to the sanctuary.\n{197}\nFrom this time he came no more again to the table or the\nrecreation of the community, but kept his room. Nothing was\nthought of his indisposition, and it was by accident that his\nphysician, who dined that day with the community, saw him and\nprescribed for him in the afternoon. The next day three of the\nfathers left the house for a mission, and bade him good-by as\nusual, without a thought of anxiety on either side. F. Baker\nremained on Sunday and Monday in the same state, dressing himself\nevery morning, and sitting up at intervals, but usually lying on\nthe bed, and occupying himself about some matters of business. He\nwrote several notes, and dictated others, some concerning the\narticles he had ordered for the sanctuary, and others concerning\nsome sick persons or penitents for whom he had a special care.\nDuring this time, no symptoms of typhus had appeared, but his\ncomplaint appeared to be a slight attack of pneumonia. On Monday\nevening he went down by himself to the bath-room and took a hot\nbath, after which he kept his bed entirely. The superior of the\nhouse, who was engaged in the mission on Staten Island, came\nevery day to visit him, and had already detected an incipient\ntendency to delirium, which awakened in his mind an anxiety,\nwhich, however, was not shared by anyone else. On Wednesday,\nhowever, although he retained control over his faculties, his\nbrain began evidently to show a state of morbid excitability. He\nremarked that the bells of the house had a strange sound, and\nfancied that his breathing and pulsations were all set to a\nregular rhythmical measure, and gave out musical sounds. When he\nwas alone and his eyes shut, he said that a brilliant array of\nfigures continually passed before him, and that he seemed to be\nhurried away by a rapid motion like that of a railway carriage.\nDuring that evening he was more decidedly wandering in his mind,\nalthough he became quiet, and slept nearly all night. On Thursday\nmorning the poison of typhus had filled his brain completely, and\nhe lay in a dull, stupid state, unconscious of what was said to\nhim, and incapable of uttering a rational word.\n{198}\nThis gave place after a time to a more violent form of delirium,\nduring which he talked incessantly in an incoherent manner, and\ncould with difficulty be kept in a quiet position or induced to\nswallow any nourishment or medicine. On Friday morning the danger\nof a fatal termination was evident, as the disease continued to\nprogress, and the symptoms of pneumonia were also aggravated. The\nsuperior of the house was sent for, and came over in the\nafternoon. Dr. Van Buren and Dr. Clarke, two of the most eminent\nphysicians in town, were called in for consultation by Dr. Hewit,\nthe attending physician, and information of F. Baker's illness\nwas sent to his sister, who came immediately from Baltimore to\nsee him. On Saturday evening the typhus fever had spent its\nviolence, reason returned, and from this time F. Baker remained\nin a weak but tranquil state until his departure. He had been\nremoved from his own room to the library, a large and airy\napartment, where every thing about him was arranged in a neat,\norderly, and cheerful manner, and he was attended and carefully\nwatched night and day by his physician, his brethren, and his\nnurse. The violence of his fever had prostrated his strength so\ncompletely, that he was unable to resist the severe attack of\npneumonia which accompanied it, and which medical skill and care\nwere unable to subdue. The feeble vital force which still\nremained gradually subsided during the next three days, under the\nprogress of this disease, although his friends continued to hope\nagainst all appearances for his recovery, and seemed almost to\ntake it for granted that God would surely hear their prayers and\nspare his life. During all this time he was rational and\ncollected, recognising all his friends, but unable to speak more\nthan a few brief sentences that were connected and intelligible.\nHe desired his sister to remain with him, and she did so during a\ngreat portion of the time. He expressed his perfect willingness\nand readiness to die, and made an effort to repeat audibly some\nprayers, but without success.\n{199}\nHe manifested his desire for absolution by signs, and it was\ngiven to him, together with the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, on\nSunday. On Tuesday, the Holy Viaticum, for which he had asked,\nwas given him, at about half-past ten in the morning. He received\nit with perfect consciousness, and remained quiet, free from\npain, and without becoming perceptibly worse, until one. After\nthe fathers had gone down to dinner, he asked his nurse for his\ncap, which was brought to him and placed in his hand. He then\nasked for his habit, and said he would dress and go down to\ndinner with the community. Soon after, a change was observed in\nhim by the watchful eye of the father who had been his bosom\nfriend during their common missionary career, and who had passed\nso many hours of the day and night by his bedside during his\nsickness with more than the devotion of a brother; and several of\nhis particular friends were sent for, that they might see him\nonce more before he died. The two fathers who were at home, his\nphysician, his only and beloved sister, a lady who had been his\nchief aid in the care of the sanctuary, and another, who was one\nof his converts, surrounded his bedside, where he lay, the\npicture of placid repose and holy calm, quietly, gently, and\nimperceptibly breathing his last, until four o'clock, when his\nspirit passed away to God, without a struggle or a sign of agony,\nleaving his countenance unruffled, and his form as composed as a\nstatue. Those who saw him after death have said that, about an\nhour after his departure, his appearance was most beautiful, as\nhe lay just dressed in his sacerdotal vestments, his majestic and\nfinely chiselled brow and features as yet untouched by the finger\nof decay. The vestments in which F. Baker was dressed had been\nprepared by himself only three weeks before, that they might be\nready in case of the death of one of the community. His body was\nplaced in a metallic case, enclosed in a rosewood coffin, and\nlaid in state in the church.\n{200}\nThese arrangements were not completed until late in the night,\nand the people did not therefore begin to visit the sacred\nremains until the next morning; from which time until the\nsepulture, crowds of the faithful were coming to the church\nduring every hour, both of the day and the night. Requiem Masses\nwere said by all the priests in the house on Wednesday and\nThursday. The mission at Staten Island closed on Tuesday evening.\nThe fathers who were there were not made acquainted with the\nextreme danger of F. Baker, and the intelligence of his death was\nnot sent to them until Wednesday morning, when their labors were\nall completed. They returned home to find the body of their late\ncompanion lying in the church, and the household and parish\noverwhelmed with sorrow. Usually, in a religious community, the\ndeath of a member is taken very much as the loss of a soldier is\nregarded by his comrades, schooled as they are to control their\nfeelings, and to be ready at any moment to expose their lives in\nthe discharge of their duty. But in a small band like ours, which\nhad been through so many trials and vicissitudes in company, and\nwhere all the members had been continually in the most constant\nand intimate association with each other, it was impossible not\nto feel in the deepest and keenest manner the loss of one of our\nnumber, the first one called away during the fourteen years of a\nmissionary life. To an infant congregation like ours, the loss of\na priest like F. Baker was truly irreparable. Besides this, each\none felt that his loss as a friend and brother was a personal\ngrief equal to that of losing his nearest and dearest relative by\nthe tie of blood. This sorrow was shared by the whole parish, by\nall his friends, and by the faithful everywhere in the parishes\nwhere he had preached and labored. Many letters of sympathy and\ncondolence were sent from all quarters, and not Catholics only,\nbut numbers of others also, who had respected the virtues of the\nholy Catholic priest, testified their regret at his death, and\ntheir sympathy with our loss.\n{201}\nThe Rev. Dr. Osgood, a distinguished Unitarian clergyman of New\nYork, sent a small painting representing a bouquet of various\nkinds of lilies, as a memorial of respect, in the name of his\ncongregation, accompanied by a very kind note. Several other\nProtestant clergymen were present at the funeral services; and,\nindeed, the manifestations of respect for F. Baker's memory were\nuniversal.\n\nThe funeral obsequies were of necessity accelerated more than his\nfriends would have desired, so that few from distant places were\nable to attend them. A few intimate friends from Baltimore, and\nsome clergymen from places out of town, were, however, present; a\nlarge number of the clergy of New York and its vicinity; and as\ngreat a number of the faithful as the church could contain. The\nfuneral was on Thursday in Passion Week, April 6, two days after\nthe decease. The previous Thursday was F. Baker's birthday, and\nthe anniversary of his conversion to the Catholic Church also\noccurred within the week of his death and burial. He had just\ncompleted the forty-fifth year of his age, and was in the ninth\nyear of his priesthood. The following Sunday was the twelfth\nanniversary of his formal reconciliation to the Church, in the\nchapel of the Sisters' of Charity, in Baltimore. Early on\nThursday morning, four private Masses of Requiem were said for\nthe repose of his soul in the church. At the usual hour for High\nMass on Sundays, a solemn Mass of Requiem was celebrated by the\nsuperior of the house, in presence of the Archbishop, who\nperformed the closing rite of absolution, and a short funeral\ndiscourse was preached. The coffin was ornamented with the\nsacerdotal vestments, the chalice, and the missionary crucifix of\nthe deceased, and covered with wreaths of flowers. The altar was\ndeeply draped in mourning, and F. Baker's confessional was also\nsimilarly draped. Never did these exterior symbols indicate a\nmore sincere and universal sorrow on the part of all who\nparticipated in them. It was a very difficult task to summon up\nsufficient fortitude to perform these last sad rites.\n{202}\nThe voice of the celebrant was interrupted by his tears; the\nsub-deacon faltered as he sang the elevating and comforting words\nof the Epistle; the choir-boys showed in their candid and\ningenuous faces their sorrow for the one who had trained them up\nin the sanctuary; the choir, composed, not of professional\nsingers, but of members of the congregation, undertook their\nsolemn task with trembling; every countenance was sad and every\neye moistened, in the assemblage of the clergy who sat in\nwhite-robed ranks nearest the sanctuary, and of the laity who\nfilled the church. I had the last duty of friendship to perform,\nin preaching the funeral sermon; and the wish to do full justice\nto F. Baker, and to satisfy the eager desire of all present to\nhear something of his life, enabled me to fulfil this duty with\ncomposure, and restrain the tide of emotion which I saw swelling\nall around me, quieted only by the hallowing and tranquillizing\ninfluence of the sacred rites of the Church, and the high,\ncelestial hope inspired by the contemplation of a life so noble\nand a death so holy. The music was in the sweet, plaintive,\nsolemn style of the true ecclesiastical chant; all the means of\ncelebrating the holy rites of the obsequies had been prepared by\nF. Baker's own pious and careful hand; his own spirit seemed to\nhover over the spot, and a divine consolation stole gently over\nall. Sad as it is, there is nothing so beautiful, so soothing, so\nelevating to the soul, as the funeral of a holy priest, who has\nachieved his course and attained the crown of his labors. Many of\nthose who were present remained for a long time after the service\nwas completed, and some were still found there unwilling to leave\nthe spot, at nightfall. The remains were taken from the church to\nSt. Patrick's Cathedral, escorted by a band of young men, and\nfollowed by a train of carriages, and by others on foot, although\nit rained heavily; the Vicar-General recited the concluding\nprayers of the ritual; the coffin was placed in the episcopal\nvault next to that of the late archbishop; a few wreaths of\nflowers were placed upon it, the entrance was closed, and all\nwithdrew; leaving the earthly form of the departed to the silent\nrepose of the tomb.\n\n{203}\n\nFor some days after, a portion of the mourning drapery was left\non the altar, and requiems continued to be offered by all the\npriests of the community. Many Masses were also said by other\npriests in various parts of the country, and prayers offered by\nthe people, although the common sentiment of all was, that the\none for whom they were offered was already among the blessed in\nheaven. On Saturday evening, as we all went to our confessionals,\nand a large congregation of people was assembled in the church,\npreparing for their Easter duty, a peculiarly holy calm seemed to\npervade the spot. The people were hushed and still, unusually\nintent upon their devotions. The penitents of F. Baker looked\nwith sadness upon the place where, just two weeks before, he had\nsat for the last time in the tribunal of penance, and came\nweeping to some one of the other fathers to request him to take\nthe direction of their consciences. It was a sad Holy Week; and a\ndifficult task to us, wearied with labor, and some with watching,\noppressed with a grief which time and repose had not yet\ndiminished, to fulfil the arduous duties of the season. Our\ngreatest consolation was in the sympathy manifested by our\npeople, and in the proof they gave of the love and gratitude\nwhich our labors had awakened in their hearts. Easter Sunday\ncame; the altar was superbly decorated with the choicest flowers\nof the season, the triumphant chant of the Church resounded as\nusual; but all felt that the one whose presence in the sanctuary\nand whose eloquent voice had given the day one of its greatest\ncharms, was gone forever; and besides, the gloom of the great\ncrime committed on Good Friday had overspread the whole nation,\nand the drapery of universal mourning had turned the city into\none great necropolis.\n{204}\nThe admirable pastoral letter of the archbishop on the\nassassination of the President was read in all the churches,\ngiving eloquent expression to the indignation and grief which\noppressed all Christian and all honest and just hearts; and never\nwas there seen an Easter more sad and mournful, more like a day\nof unusual humiliation and sorrow, than that Easter Sunday; which\nhad been anticipated as a day of peculiar joy and thanksgiving\nfor the cessation of bloody war and the restoration of peace.\n\nIt is in just such times as these, however, that we appreciate\nmost fully the strength and support which is given us by our holy\nfaith, the Divine Sacrament of the Altar, and the grace of God,\nand that those who have given themselves to a religious life\nlearn the inestimable blessing of their vocation, which raises\nthem above all private and all public tribulation. A few days\nbrought back serenity and cheerfulness to our little community,\nand we took new courage from the blessed death of our companion,\nclosing so beautifully his holy life, to resume quietly and\nresolutely our ordinary duties, and to rely more completely on\nthe providence of God; trusting that we had gained an advocate in\nheaven, and hoping to persevere like him to the end. His course\nwas short, and his reward speedily gained. What a happiness for\nhim that he listened to the voice of God; and, as his day was\ndeclining to its close, though he knew it not, gathered up his\nstrength and courage to leave all and run that brief and swift\nrace, which in later years gained for him the brilliant and\nunfading crown of a true and faithful priest of Jesus Christ, who\nhad brought thousands of souls into the way of justice; and had\npractised himself that Christian perfection which he preached to\nothers!\n\nThere must be many young men equally gifted, and fitted to\naccomplish an equally apostolic work, to whom God has given the\nsame vocation. What hidden consequences were involved in the\nresult of that struggle and deliberation which was the crisis of\ngrace in the life of Francis Baker! What a loss to himself and to\nthe Church of God, if he had proved cowardly and unfaithful! The\nsimple question before his mind was one of personal obedience to\nthe commandment of Christ to arise and follow Him.\n{205}\nBut because of his obedience, God chose him to be the instrument\nof an amount of good to others which would be sufficient to\nenrich with merit a priesthood of fifty years. The immediate\nfruits of his own labors in preaching the word of God and\nadministering His sacraments can never perish. The fruits of his\nexample and his teaching will, I trust, continue to multiply and\nincrease after his death in rich abundance. If the blessing of\nGod perpetuates and extends the congregation which he aided in\nforming, and which, so far as we can see, could not have been\nestablished without him, his character and spirit will be\nperpetuated in those who will for all time venerate him as a\nspiritual father, and imitate him as one of their most perfect\nmodels. If he is to have no imitators and no successors, it will\nbe because God can find none among our choice and gifted youth,\nwho have enough of sincerity, generosity, and the spirit of\nself-sacrifice, to obey the inspirations of His Divine Spirit,\nand consecrate themselves to His glory and the good of their\nfellow-men. The need is pressing, the career is glorious and\ninviting, and the vocation of God will not be wanting. There is\nno hope for religion, except in the multiplication of priests\nanimated with the apostolic spirit. If the example of Francis\nBaker enkindles the spirit of emulation in some generous youthful\nhearts; and encourages some timid, fearful souls who are\nvacillating between the Church of God and the interests of this\nworld, to imitate his fidelity to the voice of conscience; the\nend I have had in view will be accomplished. If not, it will\nstand as a perpetual reproach to a frivolous and unworthy\ngeneration, incapable of appreciating and imitating high\nChristian virtue. And now I lay the last stone on this monument\nof one who was once the friend and bosom companion of my youth;\nafterwards my spiritual child; then my brother in the priesthood;\nand who is now exalted to such a height above me that my eye and\nmy mind can no longer follow him.\n\n{206}\n\n{207}\n\n    Sermons.\n\n{208}\n\n{209}\n\n    Sermons.\n\n\n    Sermon I.\n\n  The Necessity Of Salvation.\n\n  (Mission Sermon.)\n\n\n  \"Thou art careful, and art troubled about many things.\n  But one thing is necessary.\"\n    --St. Luke X. 41, 42.\n\n\nIf, my brethren, I should ask each one in this assembly what his\nbusiness is, I should probably receive a great variety of\nanswers. In so large a congregation as this, drawn as it is from\nthe heart of a rich and important city, there are undoubtedly\nrepresentatives of all the various avocations that grow out of\nthe requirements of social life; some merchants, some mechanics,\nsome laboring men. I should find some heirs of ease and opulence\nside by side with homeless beggars. Some of you are heads of\nfamilies, while others are living under guardianship and\nsubjection; and in answer to my proposed question, you would give\nme your various employments and states of life. You would tell me\nthat your business is to heal the sick, or to assist at the\nadministration of justice, or to teach, or to learn letters, or\nto labor. The men would tell me that their occupation is at the\noffice, or the warehouse, or the shop, and the women would tell\nme that theirs is at home by the family fireside. No! my\nbrethren, it is not so. This is not your business. Your words may\nbe true in the sense in which you use them, but there is a great\nand real sense in which they are not true.\n{210}\nTrade, labor, study--these are not your employments. Your\navocations are not so varied as you think they are. Each one of\nyou has the same business. All men who have lived in the world\nhave had but one and the same business. And what is that? The\nsalvation of their souls. However varied your dispositions, your\ncondition in this world, your duties, the end of life is\nabsolutely one and the same to you all. Yes! wherever man is,\nwhatever his position, whatever his age, he has one business on\nthe earth, and only one--to save his soul. All other things may\nbe dispensed with, but this cannot be dispensed with. This is his\ntrue, his necessary, his only duty. Do not think that I am\nexaggerating things in making this assertion. Our Divine Saviour\nHimself in the words of the text has taught us the same\nlesson--\"_Martha, Martha, thou art careful, and art troubled\nabout many things. But one thing is necessary_.\" And what that\none thing is, He has taught us, in those memorable words which He\nuttered on another occasion--\"_What shall it profit a man, if\nhe gain the whole world, and lose his own soul; or what shall a\nman give in exchange for his soul?_\" [Footnote 8] But what\nthen, you say; must every one go into a cloister, must everyone\nwho wishes to do his duty forsake the world, leave house and\nparents, lands and possessions, and nourish his soul by continual\nmeditation and prayer? No! this is not our Lord's meaning. The\nend of life is indeed the salvation of our souls, but we must\nwork this out by means of the daily employments appropriate to\nour several conditions. We must prepare for the life to come by\nthe labors of the life that now is. We must bear our part in this\nworld, but we must do so, always, in subordination to eternity,\nand thus we shall in some way fulfil the words of the\napostle--\"_They that use this world, let them be as though they\nused it not;_\" [Footnote 9] that is, let them not use it in\nthe same way that the children of the world use it, or according\nto the principles of the world.\n\n  [Footnote 8: St. Mark viii. 36, 37]\n\n  [Footnote 9: 1 Cor. vii. 31.]\n\n{211}\n\n\nThis is enough for the salvation of most men. No one can be\nexcused from doing so much as this. The law of God imperatively\nand under the highest sanctions requires this of everyone here\npresent. This is your duty to your souls. This is your only duty.\nThis done, all will be done. This neglected, all else will be in\nvain. To prove this will be the theme of my present discourse.\n\nI will make a remark in the outset: It is important for us to\nbear in mind that the salvation of our souls is properly our\nwork. The grace of God is indeed necessary in order to will, and\nto accomplish His good will, but without our co-operation, the\ngrace of God will not save us; accordingly, St. Paul, writing to\nthe Philippians, exhorts them to _work out their salvation_.\n[Footnote 10]\n\n    [Footnote 10: Philip. ii. 12.]\n\nIt is only little children, who die soon after baptism, and\npersons equivalent to children, who are saved by a sovereign and\nabsolute act of divine power; with regard to all others, God has\nmade their eternal destiny dependent on their own actions. No one\nof us will be saved merely because Christ died for us; or because\nHe founded the Catholic Church as the church of salvation, and\nmade us its members; or because He has instituted life-giving\nsacraments; or because God is willing that all should be saved;\nor because He gives His grace to us all; or because the Blessed\nVirgin Mary has such power with God; or because the priest can\nforgive sins. No one will be saved because he has had\ninspirations of grace, good instruction, good desires, and good\npurposes. Despite all this, one may be damned. For the Holy\nSpirit has said distinctly and strongly, \"Work out your own\nsalvation.\" It rests, then, with you to save your souls. The\ngrace of God is indeed necessary. You cannot be saved without the\ndeath of Christ, or the sacraments of the Catholic Church, or the\ngifts of the Holy Spirit, or the absolution of the priest, or the\npatronage of Mary; but all these things are within your reach,\nthey are all in your power.\n{212}\nNow, at the time of the Holy Mission, they are offered to you\nwith especial liberality. God, on His part, has done, one may\nalmost say, all that He could do to make your work easy to you.\nTo make this an acceptable time, it only remains, then, that you\ndo your part. And this you can do. However great your\ndifficulties, however great your temptations, however strong your\npassions, however importunate your evil companions, may be;\nhowever deeply seated your bad habits; you can, each one can, by\nthe help which God is now willing to render him, save his soul.\n\nFrom this first remark I pass to the immediate subject of my\ndiscourse--the obligation of securing our salvation. As we can\nsave our souls, so we ought to do it. Nay, this is our only, our\nall-engrossing duty; and I shall found my proof of it, my\nbrethren, on this plain rule of common sense and reason, that one\nought to bestow that degree of attention and care on any affair\nwhich it deserves and requires. Everyone feels that it would be\nan occupation unworthy of a man to spend his time in writing\nletters in the sand, or in chasing butterflies from flower to\nflower; because these occupations are in themselves vain and\nprofitless. Again, anyone would feel it unreasonable, in the\nfather of a family, to set out on a party of pleasure at the very\nmoment that his presence was necessary to arrest some disaster\nthat threatened his family: not because it was wrong in itself\nfor him to seek recreation, but because a higher obligation was\nthen urging. Now, applying these principles, on which everyone\nacts in matters of daily life, to the matter in question; I say\nthat you are bound to give to the work of your salvation your\nutmost care and attention, because the care of your souls\nsupremely deserves and urgently requires it.\n{213}\nTake in, my brethren, the whole scope of my proposition. There is\na work of great consequence before you. I do not speak as the\nworld speaks. The world tells you that your business here is to\nget gain, to build a house, to rear a family, to leave a name, to\nenjoy yourself. I say, no. Your business is to seek the grace of\nGod, and to keep it. The world says: seek friends, fall in with\nthe stream, court popularity, do as others do, act on the\nprinciples which receive the sanction of the multitude, and a\nlittle religion in addition to this will be no bad thing. I say,\nno. Seek first the kingdom of God and His justice. Fathers,\nmothers, sons and daughters, masters, servants, ye great ones and\nye humble ones of the earth, you are all engaged in the same\nenterprise. God has intrusted to each one of you a soul. He has\nintrusted it to _you_, not to another. You cannot devolve\nthe responsibility of it on another. That is your care on the\nearth. Whatever cares of other things you may have, you cannot\nneglect that one work, you cannot interrupt or postpone it, you\ncannot put any thing in competition with it. If there is a\nquestion between any temporal advantages, however great, or\nsuffering, however severe, on one side, and the salvation of your\nsoul on the other; you must renounce these benefits, embrace\nthose tortures. If you must consent to see your family die by\ninches of starvation, or put your salvation in proximate and\ncertain jeopardy, you must see them starve first. I do not say\nthe case is likely to happen. God rarely allows men to be reduced\nto such straits. But if the case should occur in the line of\nduty, nay, if the alternative was presented, of converting the\nwhole world on one side, and avoiding a mortal sin on the other,\nwe must rather consult the welfare of our own souls than that of\nothers; and this not from selfishness, but because God has\nintrusted to us our own souls, and not the souls of others.\n{214}\nAnd how do I establish my proposition? I waive, my brethren, my\nright to appeal to your faith, to speak by the authority of\nChrist, Who is infallible and supreme, and Who has a right to\nchallenge your absolute and instantaneous submission and\nobedience. I postpone the consideration of that love which we owe\nto our Maker, and which ought to make us prompt and willing to do\nHis will. I take my stand on the ground of reason and conscience,\nand I appeal to you to say whether they do not sustain my\nproposition. I make you the judges. It is your own case, it is\ntrue, yet there are points in which even self-love cannot blind\nour sense of faith; and I ask you whether the care of our soul's\nsalvation should not be our sovereign and supreme care in life,\nif it be true that the interests of the soul surpass all others\nin importance, and can not be secured without our continual and\nearnest efforts. Your prompt and decided answer in the\naffirmative leaves me nothing more to do than to establish the\nfact that the salvation of your souls is in fact so important a\ntask. I will do so by proving three points: first, that our souls\nare our most precious possession; second, that we are in great\ndanger of losing them; and third, that the loss of our souls is\nthe greatest of all losses, and is irreparable.\n\nOur souls are our most precious possession. My brethren, we have\nsouls. When God created man He formed his body out of the slime\nof the earth. It was as yet but a lifeless form, a beautiful\nstatue, but God breathed upon it and man became a living soul.\nThis soul, the spiritual substance which God breathed into the\nbody, was formed according to an eternal decree of the Blessed\nTrinity, in resemblance to the Divine essence; that is, endowed\nwith a spiritual nature and possessed of understanding and free\nwill. \"Let us make man to our image and likeness,\" said God; and\nthe sacred writer tells us \"God created man to His own image;\"\nand, as if to give greater emphasis to so important an\nannouncement, he repeats, \"To the image of God created He him.\"\n[Footnote 11]\n\n    [Footnote 11: Gen. i. 26.]\n\n{215}\n\nMan therefore is a compound being, consisting of a body and soul,\nallied to the material world through the material body which he\npossesses, and to the world above us, that is, to God and the\nangels, through his soul. Now, the excellence of all creatures is\nin proportion to the degree in which they partake of the\nperfections of God, who is the Author of all being and all\ngoodness. All existing substances partake of His perfection in\nsome degree; if they do not show forth His moral attributes, at\nleast they reflect His omnipotence; and therefore Holy Scripture\ncalls on the fishes of the sea, the beasts of the earth, the\nfowls of the air, the sun, moon, stars, earth, mountains and\nhills, to join with angels and men in blessing God. But the\nsuperiority of angels and souls over material creatures consists\nin this, that they partake of the moral perfections of God: they\nshow us not only what God can do, but what He is. Like Him, they\nare spiritual beings. \"_Who makest Thy angels spirits and Thy\nministers a burning fire_,\" says the Psalmist. [Footnote 12]\n\n    [Footnote 12: Ps. ciii. 4.]\n\nThey are not gross substances as our bodies are, but pure,\nsubtle, immaterial essences. They are immortal like Him--at least\nso as that they can never die. They do not need food nor sleep.\nThey are not subject to decay, or old age, or death; they are\nendowed with understanding and free will, to know many of the\nthings that God knows and to love what He loves; but, above all,\nto know Him and love Him. Hence the value of the soul is really\nimmeasurable, and all the treasures of the earth are not to be\ncompared to it. Take the poorest slave on earth, the most\nwretched inmate of the darkest prison, the most afflicted\nsufferer whom disease has reduced to a mass of filth and\ncorruption, and that man's soul is more precious and more\nglorious than the richest diadem of the greatest monarch; nay,\nthan all the treasures of the whole earth, with all the jewels\nthat are hid in the mines and caves under its surface.\n\n{216}\n\nOur Lord one day permitted St. Catherine of Sienna to see a human\nsoul, and as she gazed transported at its exceeding beauty, He\nasked her if He had not had good reason to come down from heaven\nto save such a glorious creature. The saint said the soul was so\nbeautiful that, if one could see it, one would be willing to\nsuffer all possible pains and torments for love of it. My\nbrethren, if, when you go to your homes, you should find in your\nhouse an angel with his face as the appearance of lightning, his\neyes as a burning lamp, his body as a crystal, and his feet in\nappearance like to glittering brass, what would you do? Would you\nnot, like St. John, fall down before his feet and adore him?\nWould you not faint and fall before him, or if you were so\nstrengthened that you could look upon the glorious vision, would\nyou not gaze upon it with deep and loving awe? Well! such a being\nyou will find there, when you go home. It will go hence with you.\nIt will remain there as long as you remain there. It will come\naway when you come away. This bright being of whom I speak is no\nvisitor in your house, it is an inmate, it rises with you in the\nmorning, accompanies you through the day, is present with you\nwhen you eat, is with you in sickness and in health, in life and\nin death. This bright and glorious being is yours--it is more\nyours than any thing else in the world, it is the only thing in\nthe world that is really yours--it is yours; poverty cannot\nstrip you of it, death cannot tear it from you; eternity cannot\nrob you of it. And this being is your soul, your precious,\nspiritual, immortal soul. All things else will forsake you,\nproperty, family, friends; but this will never forsake you. It is\nyours. It is yours inalienably and for ever. Your greatest, your\nonly wealth and treasure. Oh, inestimable dignity! We are told of\nsome saints, who used to make an act of respect to everyone they\nmet, by way of saluting his guardian angel, and of others that\nthey bowed down before those whom they knew, by the spirit of\nprophecy, would shed their blood for the faith.\n{217}\nBut have we not cause enough to honor man, in the fact that he\nhas a soul, an immortal soul, a soul which shall one day see God?\nShall we not feel an ample respect for each other, my brethren,\nwhen we think of what we are? Who could ever speak an impure word\nbefore another if he thought of the dignity of a human soul? What\nyoung man would ever dare to go to scenes where he would blush\nthat his mother or sister should be present, if he remembered\nthat he took his own soul along with him? Who would lie, or\ncheat, or steal, if he thought of his soul? A great and\noverpowering thought; how does it belittle all the pride and\nostentation of the external world! Come, my brethren, let us go\ninto the streets of this city and look around us. There are\nstately buildings and proud equipages and gay and brilliant\nshops--but what are all these to the concourse of human beings,\nthe crowds of immortal souls who are, day by day, making an\nimmortal destiny. There is the old man tottering along on his\nstick, there is the little child on the way to school, there is\nthe rich lady with her jewels and costly fabrics, there is the\nlaborer with his spade setting out to his daily toil; and each\none has a soul, each one will live forever. Let us strive to take\nin this great thought. The tide of human beings flows on from\nmorning to evening. New faces continually appear. They come and\ngo. We do not know their history, their destiny; but we know that\neach one has a spiritual nature, is made to the image of God, is\npossessed of a bright and glorious soul. We shall meet them\nagain. There will come a day when every one of the throng shall\nmeet again every other. New populations; shall come in the place\nof those who now inhabit the world. The stones of the greatest\nbuildings shall be reduced to powder, nay, the world itself will\nbe reduced to ashes, and each soul that now lives in this city\nwill survive in its own individuality and immortality. There are\nsome, it is true, who do not seem as if they had souls.\n{218}\nThere are women who have given themselves up to practices of\nuncleanness by profession, and men who habitually wallow in\ndrunkenness and sensuality; and the conversation of such persons\nis so horrid and obscene, their countenance so devoid of the\nleast trace of shame or self-respect, they seem from having\nneglected their souls almost to have lost them. They seem really\nto have become the brutes whose passions they have imitated. No!\neven they have souls. They cannot be brutes if they would. They\nare men, they are made to the image of God, and so they must ever\nremain. A surgeon [Footnote 13] was once called to attend a man\nwho was afflicted with cancer.\n\n    [Footnote 13: The surgeon alluded to was Dr. Baker, and a\n    faithful portrait of the man was taken, which was preserved\n    in the family.]\n\nThis terrible disease had affected one entire side of the face,\nand had made in it the most dreadful ravages. The cheek was one\nshapeless mass of putrid flesh; the nose undistinguishable from\nthe other features, the eye completely eaten out, and the bones\nof the forehead perforated like a sponge; but on turning the face\nof the man, the other side presented a wonderful contrast, being\nin nowise affected, and showing no trace of sickness except an\nexcessive pallor. The countenance and features were of a noble\ndignity and beauty, and strikingly like the expression ordinarily\nobserved in the pictures of our Blessed Lord. So it is with men's\nsouls. Sin has eaten deeply into them, has deprived them of\ncomeliness, has almost defaced the form they once had, has\nblinded their minds and deprived them of the interior eye; but\nstill there remain traces of nobility, of the image of God. O\nman, whoever thou art, however deeply sunk in sin; I care not\nwhether your body be as filthy as the dunghill or the sink, or\nyour heart be the prey of every passion and the slave of every\nvice; you have a soul: you have indeed lost much, but you have\nmuch remaining; you have that which is of more value than all\nelse in the world--that which is absolutely of more value than\nall material things; and which to you is of more value than all\nspiritual things, than all created things in earth and heaven.\n{219}\nYou are great and noble and spiritual and immortal--you are\ncapable of virtue, happiness, and heaven--you are like God, you\nresemble Him. His image is stamped upon you. And how little you\nrealize this! Alas, you will realize it at the hour of death.\n\nBut, secondly, we are in danger of losing our souls. To lose them\nin the literal sense is of course impossible, for I have said\nthat they are immortal, and will remain with us forever. It would\nbe in some way a happiness to the wicked, if they could, in this\nsense, lose their souls, for it would free them from the torment\nof a miserable eternity. But that cannot be: the loss of our\nsouls of which we speak is the loss of God, who alone is the\nsufficient and satisfying object of our affection. \"Thou hast\nmade our souls for Thee,\" says St. Augustine, \"and they are not\nat peace until they rest in Thee.\" The loss of our souls is\noccasioned by sin, which separates us from God, but it is not\nfinal and irremediable until death overtakes us in this state of\nestrangement. The danger of losing our souls, then, is the danger\nof falling into mortal sin and dying in that state. Now, the\ndanger of sinning is, in the present course of God's providence,\ninseparable from the possession of a soul. Free will is a high\nprerogative, which, while it fits us for the highest state\npossible, renders sin also possible. As soon as God created the\nangels, a large part of them rebelled against Him, and were cast\nout of heaven. As soon as He had made man, our first parents fell\nand were cast out of Paradise. It is only a rational moral being\nthat can sin; because sin is the voluntary transgression of the\nDivine law, and therefore cannot be committed by any creature but\none who has a will, that is, intellect and the power of choosing.\nAlmost all the material acts of sin which men commit are\ncommitted by brutes also.\n{220}\nSee the rage of the tiger, the thieving of the fox, the impurity\nof the goat, the treachery of the adder, the gluttony of the\nswine. But there are no sins in these brutes, because they have\nmere blind instincts. Man, however, has reason and a will, and\ntherefore he is bound to control the instincts which he shares in\ncommon with the brutes, and his failure to control these\nconstitutes sin. He has a soul which belongs to God, and of which\nGod is the sovereign, and his failure to control his passions is\nrebellion against God, and pride. Further, as the possession of a\nsoul renders sin possible, so the proclivity to evil, which we\ninherit from the fall, and the temptations of the world, render\nit exceedingly probable. I do not know a more striking\nillustration of this, than the fear which the saints have\nordinarily had about their salvation. Their sense of the value of\nthe soul; their deep knowledge of their own hearts, and of the\nroot of evil that was in them, the weakness of man without grace,\nand the uncertainty of grace; have kept men of the greatest\nsanctity, men who have wrought miracles, who have cast out\ndevils, who have raised the dead to life, always anxious about\ntheir perseverance, always begging of God the grace never to to\nallow them to commit a mortal sin. But if these reasons are\nenough to make saints tremble, what reasons have not ordinary\nChristians to fear! A chain of evil habits, unguarded intercourse\nwith men, the constant contact with the world, how fearfully do\nthey augment the risk of losing our souls, which all run\nnecessarily in this world. Why, listen to the conversation of ten\nmen, taken almost at random in this city; for half an hour walk\nthrough the city, from one end to the other; and see if the\noccasions of sin are not more frequent than can be uttered. This\nis deeply felt by men of the world themselves. It makes them\ndespair. They say there is no possibility of saving their souls\nin the world. They say it is all in vain to try--that sin meets\nthem at every step. It is not, of course, true that sin is\ninevitable. If it were, it would not be sin. But it is true that\nthe atmosphere of the world is fearfully surcharged with evil.\n{221}\nThere is many a home in this city, many a place of public resort,\nmany a den of secret iniquity, many a gaming-room, and\ndrinking-house, over which there is an inscription legible to the\nangels, written in letters of fire, \"The gate of hell.\" There are\nmany places where souls are sold daily and hourly, and oh, at\nwhat a price! Thirty pieces of silver was the price offered for\nour Redeemer, but the soul is often sold for one, indeed, often\nfor something still more miserable--for the gratification of an\nimpure passion, for the indulgence of revenge, for a day's\nfrolic. It is true the Evil One does not carry on his traffic\nunder its own name and openly--that it is well concealed under\nspecious pretences; but the danger is only so much the greater.\nThe occasions of sin are everywhere spread under our feet like\ntraps and snares, and encircling us on all sides like nets. But\neven this is not the worst. The loss of God is not only possible\nbecause of our free will, probable because of the corruption of\nthe world, but, in many cases, already certain. Men, on all\nsides, have lost God, and need only an unforeseen death to make\ncertain the loss of their souls. Who can tell how many are living\nin a state of mortal sin, month by month, day by day, year by\nyear? They go on securely, smilingly; externally all goes on\nsmoothly; they are successful and seemingly happy; they have\nplans for many years to come; but a voice has spoken, \"Thou fool,\nthis night shall they require thy soul of thee.\" Oh! how many\ndied in mortal sin last year, how many will die in mortal sin\nnext year! It needs only a little thing, a false step, a railway\naccident, an attack of fever, a change in the weather, a fit of\napoplexy, and they are launched into eternity without warning and\nwithout preparation--death sealing for perdition those whom it\nfinds deprived of the grace of God. Who, I say, can wonder at\nthis, when he looks around him, and sees how little the soul is\nvalued? O my God! it is enough to make the heart sick.\n{222}\nLet us take a Catholic family, for I will not take things at the\nworst. A father has a family of children. He must send them to\nschool or college. He finds an institution which pleases him, and\nhe will tell you that his children are doing excellently, and\nthat the only drawback is that the school is Protestant or\ninfidel. Is not this to betray the souls of his own children?\nSunday comes: it is true that there is the obligation to hear\nMass, but some inducement offers itself to idleness or\ndissipation, and no Mass is heard, because it is only the soul\nwhich is injured by the omission. Monday comes: there is an\nopportunity of making some little gain in an unlawful way. What\ndoes it matter? We must get rich, and do like our neighbors. The\nsons grow up in ignorance, and spend their time mostly at the\ngaming-table or the place of carousal. The daughters grow up.\nThey must be led by their mother to every scene of folly and sin,\nbecause the custom of society requires it. Easter comes: the\nyoung people do not like to go to confession, and they add only\none sin more, to those with which their hearts are already\ncharged. And then the parents die, and the children come forward\nto take their places, and to bring up their children in still\ngreater neglect and laxity. Thus Catholics are trained for the\nworld, and souls for hell; and if we take into the account the\ngraver forms of vice, and consider how many are entirely the\nslaves of passion, we shall not wonder that there are so few that\nshall be saved. One of the Fathers, speaking of the great\nresponsibility of the priesthood, dilates on the impossibility of\na priest's being saved without great exertion and watchfulness.\nBut if it be difficult for a priest to save his soul; what shall\nI say of the laity, when I consider the prevailing habits of\nCatholics. It hardly seems to me too strong to say, that to me it\nwould seem a miracle for any such one to be saved. How will men\nattain that which they do not care for, to which they give no\nthought? And so it is with the salvation of the soul. Who thinks\nabout it? Who takes any pains for it? Who makes any sacrifice for\nit?\n{223}\nThe soul is more precious than any thing else, and yet every\nthing else is put before it. It is trampled on in business,\nbetrayed in friendships, choked by domestic cares, imprisoned in\nthe filthy bodies of the licentious, and, as it were, annihilated\nin the drunkard. It is forgotten, neglected, outraged, despised,\nignored. It is not so much sold as thrown away. The body is cared\nfor with the most supreme solicitude. Every pain and ache is\nrelieved. Long journeys are undertaken to recover health that is\nlost or only threatened. The most celebrated physicians are\nsought after with eagerness. But the soul is allowed for weeks\nand months and years to go on in a state of spiritual death.\nConfession, prayer, the sacraments, means so easy, means truly\ninfallible in their efficacy, means within the reach of all, are\nneglected, on pretences the most frivolous, without reason, and\nalmost without motive. \"_Who will give water to my head, and a\nfountain of tears to my eyes, and I will weep day and night for\nthe slain of the daughter of my people?_\" [Footnote 14]\n\n    [Footnote 14: Jer. ix. 1.]\n\nThe loss of our souls is the greatest of all evils, because it is\nirremediable. I will not go into all that this point contains. It\nis too great a subject for us at present. I will not dwell on all\nthat is meant by the loss of our souls, but I will consider it\nsimply as it is, the failure of reaching our end and destiny, and\nas irreparable. And to help us to realize this, I will summon as\na witness one who was the first to come short of his destiny, the\ndevil. We do not know how long it was after the creation of the\nangels that the devil sinned and fell; but certainly there was a\ntime when he was a pure, bright spirit, rejoicing in the\ngreatness of his endowments, and with a hope full of immortality.\nBut there came a moment of darkness. He sinned: he was judged: he\nwas cast from heaven, and he sank into hell. There he is now. He\nis confined in chains and darkness. The tree has fallen; and as\nit has fallen to the north or to the south, so must it lie\nforever.\n{224}\nOther mistakes may be rectified, but this never. A loss in\nbusiness may be made good by greater exertions and prudence; a\nbroken-down constitution may be repaired by art and care; a lost\nreputation may be recovered by integrity and consistency in\nwell-doing; earthly sorrow may be healed by time and other\nobjects; sin may be rooted out by penance; but the loss of the\nsoul is an evil complete and irreparable, and brings with it an\nundying remorse. \"_A tree hath hope: if it be cut down, it\ngroweth green again, and the bough thereof sprout. If its root be\nold in the earth and its stock be dead in the dust, at the scent\nof water it shall spring and bring forth leaves as when it was\nfirst planted._\" [Footnote 15] But man, when he shall be dead\nand stripped and consumed, I pray you, where is he? The cry of\ndespair which the first lost soul uttered when he made the\nterrible discovery that he was really lost, is still ringing in\nthe abodes of the damned, and the keenness of his misery is still\nunabated. Ages shall go on, the last day shall come, and an\neternity shall follow it, and that cry of despair will still be\nas thrilling, and that anguish as new and as irremediable.\n\n    [Footnote 15: Job xiv. 7, 8, 9.]\n\nAs reasonable men, I have appealed to you: what is your decision?\nWhat does reason, what does conscience, what does self-interest\nsay? You would not be listless if I were to speak to you of your\nproperty, your health, your reputation, but now I speak to you of\nyour souls--your precious, immortal souls--your own, your\ngreatest good--a good that you are in danger of losing--the good\nwhose loss is overwhelming and irretrievable. They are in your\nhands for life or for death. It is said that to one of the\nheathen soothsayers, who was famed for his skill in discovering\nhidden things, a person once came with a living bird in his hand,\nand asked the seer to tell whether it was living or dead. The\ninquirer intended to crush the bird with his hand if the wise man\nshould say it was living, and to let it fly if he should say it\nwas dead, and thus in either case to put the pretended magician\nto shame.\n{225}\nBut the soothsayer suspected the design, and answered: \"The bird\nis in your hand--to kill it or to let it live.\" So I answer you,\nmy brethren. Your souls are in your hands, to kill them or to let\nthem live. You can crush them in your grasp and smother their\nconvictions, or you can open your hand and let them fly forth in\nfreedom and gladness. Oh, have pity on your souls! Your souls are\nyours. No one will be the loser by the loss of your souls but\nyourselves. God will not be the less happy if you are damned; the\nsaints will not lose any of their happiness if you fail of your\nsalvation; the angels will be as light and blissful; the earth\nwill go on just the same as when you were on it; only you, you\nyourselves will feel it, and you will feel it hopelessly. Ah,\nthen, take pity on your souls! You will one day wish that you had\ndone it. One of the courtiers of Francis the First of France,\nwhen he was dying, said: \"Oh! how many reams of paper have I\nwritten in the service of my monarch! Oh! that I had only spent\none quarter of an hour in the service of my soul!\" A quarter of\nan hour! And you have days and weeks. Oh, then, once more I beg\nyou to take pity on your souls! If you have never before\nseriously taken to heart your eternal interest, at least do so\nnow. Improve the time of this mission. It is the time of grace.\nIt may be to you the last call, the last opportunity. Make, then,\na good use of this time. Set aside the thought of other things,\nand give yourself to this alone. Now you have an opportunity of\nmaking your peace with God, and saving your soul. Think, now the\nhour has come, foreseen by God from all eternity, when, answering\nto the call of grace, I shall regain His favor, which, alas! I\nhave lost too long. What shall keep me back? See what is the\ndifficulty, and weigh it in the scales with your immortal soul.\nIs confession difficult? A confession before the whole universe\nwill be more so. Is it hard to lose a little gain? It will be\nmore so to lose your soul.\n{226}\nIs it hard to break a tie of long standing? It will be hard to\nbreak every tie, and to live in eternal desolation. Is it hard to\nbear the remarks of companions? But how will you bear the taunts\nand jeers of the devil and his angels? And those very companions\nwho have led you to hell will taunt you for your base compliance\nto them. Let nothing, then, keep you back.\n\n  * * *\n\n(Peroration. according to the circumstances.)\n\n----------------\n\n  Sermon II.\n\n  Mortal Sin.\n\n  (Mission Sermon.)\n\n\n  \"Know thou, and see,\n   that it is an evil and a bitter thing for thee,\n   to have left the Lord thy God.\"\n     --Jer. II. 19.\n\n\nIn the book of the prophet Ezechiel it is related that God showed\nto the prophet in a vision the city of Jerusalem. It was all\nstretched out before him in its greatness and in its beauty. The\nmagnificent temple was there, with its stones and spires\nglittering in the sun; its streets were full of people,\nprosperous and happy; a people who were in possession of the true\nreligion, who had been adopted by God as His children, and over\nwhom He had exercised a special protection. It was a beautiful\nsight; beautiful to the eye, and well fitted to excite the most\nreligious emotions in the mind. But there was something that\nchecked these feelings of pleasure and delight. God permitted the\nprophet to see the interior of that city. He unfolded before him\nthe secret abominations that were practised there.\n{227}\nHe showed him the idolatries and impurities to which his chosen\npeople the Jews had delivered themselves up, and then in wrath\nand indignation God complained of the people and said: \"_The\niniquity of the house of Israel and of Juda is exceeding great;\nand the land is filled with blood; and the city is filled with\nperverseness, for they have said: The Lord hath forsaken the\nearth, and the Lord seeth not_.\" [Footnote 16] Then the joy of\nthe prophet was turned in to sorrow.\n\n    [Footnote 16: Ezechiel ix. 9.]\n\nTo-night, my brethren, a vision meets my eye hardly less\nbeautiful than that which met the eye of the prophet. How\nbeautiful a sight is this church and this congregation! This\nchurch is raised to the honor of the true God. Its walls are\nsalvation and its gates praise. And this congregation, beautiful\nas it is in the assemblage of a multitude of living, intelligent\nbeings--where I see the old man with his crown of silver hair,\nthe young man and the young woman in the freshness of their bloom\nand youth--is much more so regarded as a Catholic congregation,\nas professing the true faith. But tell me--for I cannot look into\nyour hearts as the prophet did--tell me, does God see, beneath\nthis beautiful, outward appearance, the abominations of iniquity?\nDoes God this night see in this church some heart that is in\nmortal sin? Some Catholic who has renounced, if not his faith, at\nleast the practice of his faith? Some child of passion who has\nswerved from the path of justice, lost his conscience and the\nsense of sin, and given himself to the service of the devil? Are\nthere any here to-night in mortal sin? There may be. I will\nconfess, and you will not think me uncharitable in doing so, I\nbelieve there are some. I know not how many, but from what I know\nof the world, I believe there are some here, in this\ncongregation, whose consciences tell them they are in mortal sin.\nOh! then, let me tell them what they have done. Let me show them\nwhat mortal sin is. Let me prove to them that it is an evil and a\nbitter thing for them to have left the Lord their God. This is my\nsubject to-night. I will show you the dreadfulness of mortal sin:\nfirst, from its nature; secondly, from its effects on the soul;\nand thirdly, from its eternal consequences.\n\n{228}\n\nYou know, my dear brethren, that we were created to love and\nserve God in this life, and to be happy forever with Him in\nheaven. God has given us this world, and our own nature, all that\nwe have or are; and He is willing that we should enjoy the world\nand act out our nature. It is true, there are certain\nrestrictions which He has given us. These restrictions are\ncontained in His law, embodied in the ten commandments. In these\ncommandments God has circumscribed our liberty, has put limits to\nwhat we may do; but I need not say that these limits have been so\nfixed, not in order to abridge our happiness, but really to\nincrease it. So the case stands on God's part. But now, on our\npart, we have an inclination to disregard the limits God has put\non our use of the world, and to place our happiness in the\ncreature. The world smiles before us, and we think this or that\nenjoyment would make us happy. It may often happen that the very\nenjoyment and comfort is one which God has forbidden; but no\nmatter, we are strongly inclined to seize it, nevertheless, and\nto gratify our desire in spite of the prohibition. This\ninclination is what is called concupiscence, and is sometimes\nexceedingly strong, so that it is very difficult to resist it.\nGod has, however, always given us reason and faith, free will and\ngrace, to enable us to overcome it. This, then, being so, you see\nthat man stands between two claimants: the world on the one hand,\ninviting him to follow his own corrupt inclinations; on the\nother, God requiring him to restrain his passions by the rules of\nvirtue and religion. Now, what takes place under such\ncircumstances? Alas, my brethren, I will tell you what too often\ntakes place. I will tell you what takes place so commonly that\nmen take it for granted that it must be so--so commonly that the\nmajority of men cease to wonder at it--what happens every day,\nevery hour, every minute. It happens that men listen to the voice\nof passion, renounce virtue and reason, stifle grace, and turn\naway from God, to satisfy their desire for the creature. This is\nwhat happens daily, hourly, momentarily; and this is mortal sin,\nwhich is in its nature the greatest of all evils, considered in\nits relation both to God and man, as I am about to show you in\nthis first part of my discourse.\n\n{229}\n\nUnderstand me, my brethren: the sin I am going to speak of is\n_mortal_ sin. I do not say that every transgression of the\nlaw of God is mortal. You know that it is not so. You know that\nthere some actions which men commit, which are forbidden, but by\nwhich a man does not mean really to give up the friendship of\nGod--some sins which are not committed with full deliberation,\nsome sins in which the matter is very small, some sins which come\nmore from ignorance or frailty than from malice; and which God,\nwho sees things just as they are, does not regard as grievous. He\nis displeased with them, but not mortally offended. He punishes\nthem, but not with the utter withdrawal of His favor. If He did,\nwho of us could be saved? But every sin in which the soul sees\nclearly that she must choose between the friendship of God and\nthe gratification of unlawful passion--in which, with full\ndeliberation, in full defiance of any grave precept of God or the\nHoly Church, she obeys the call of corrupt nature, every such sin\nis mortal, that, is, grievously offends God and cuts off the soul\nfrom His grace. Do you want to know what a mortal sin is? It is\nan insult offered to God--Almighty God. One trembles to say it,\nbut so it is. Yes! if you have committed one mortal sin, you have\ninsulted Almighty God. And there is every thing in the act to\nmake the insult deep and deadly. The greatness of an insult is\nmeasured by the comparative importance of the persons between\nwhom the offence passes. If one should come into the church and\nstrike the bishop on his throne, would you not feel more\nindignant than if a common man in the street were the object of\nthe insult? You have heard how Pius the Sixth was insulted;\ndragged about from place to place, until he died; and did you not\nfeel indignant that such outrages were committed on the person of\nGod's vicegerent?\n{230}\nNow, when you committed a mortal sin you insulted, not the\nvicegerent of God, but God himself. You contemned His authority\nand despised His greatness. Would you know Who it is Whom you\nhave offended? Look at that mountain trembling with earthquakes,\nand breathing forth smoke and flame, hear the thunder roll around\nits head, and see the lightning flash! Mark the people, how they\nfall back affrighted and terrified! What is the cause of these\nconvulsions of nature, and this terror of the people? God is\nspeaking. He spake in Mount Sinai and the earth trembled before\nHim; and it is His words then spoken that you have defied, O\nsinner! Are you not afraid of His vengeance Whom you have\noffended? Open the heavens and see the angels, thousands of\nthousands and ten thousand times ten thousand, prostrate before\nHim. See all the saints adoring Him--the Blessed Virgin Mary\nherself trembling before His greatness. And you insult Him! What\nare you? A creature, a dependant, a slave. What would a master do\nif his slave should strike him? And you, a servant, a slave, a\nmere nothing, have not hesitated to raise your hand against\nAlmighty God!\n\nAnd for what have you done all this? For the pleasure of sin. You\nhave preferred a vile, temporary gratification, to the favor of\nAlmighty God. When you sinned, there was on one side the beauty\nof God, the beauty of perfection, the splendor of grace, the joy\nof saints, peace of conscience, heaven; on the other there was\nthe false pleasure of sin. You weighed them in the balance one\nwith another, and, oh folly! in your estimation a moment's sin\noutweighed God and heaven and eternity. This is what the Almighty\ncomplains of in Holy Scripture: \"_They violated me among my\npeople for a handful of barley and a piece of bread to kill souls\nwhich should not die_.\" [Footnote 17]\n\n    [Footnote 17: Ezech. xiii. 19.]\n\n{231}\n\nOh! for how small a thing it is that you have been content to\nlose God--a few dollars of unjust gain, human respect, the\ngratification of revenge, a night's debauch, a half-hour's\nindulgence of sinful thoughts, a forbidden word, an intoxicating\nglass: for this you have thrown to the winds God and heaven. What\nhas He not done for you? He takes care of you and gives you all\nyou have. It is He who warms you by the sun, refreshes you by the\nair, gladdens and nourishes you by the green field. It is He who\nbrought you through the dangerous time of childhood, Who led you\nup through manhood, Who redeemed you by His blood, made you a\nCatholic, and gave you your parents, friends, every blessing, and\nthe hope of heaven beyond this life, and you have grieved and\nhated Him. See Jesus Christ before the Jews. He has spent His\nlife in doing them good. He has labored for them and is about to\ndie for them. And now they spit on Him, they buffet Him, they\ncrown Him with thorns and bow the knee in mockery before Him.\nNay, O sinner! thou art the Jew who did this. Thou by thy mortal\nsin hast made him an object of scorn. Thou hast spit upon Him,\nthou hast stabbed Him to the heart. Would you excuse a son from\nthe guilt of parricide who should strike a knife to his father's\nheart, and should miss his aim? So, the sinner is no less guilty\nof the crime against the life of God because God cannot die. If\nGod could die or cease to be, mortal sin is that which would kill\nHim. You have aimed a blow at the life of your best benefactor,\nof your God. And this is what passes in the world for a light\nthing. This is what men laugh at and boast of over their cups.\nThis is what the world excuses, and takes for a matter of course;\nyes, this is what even boys and girls, as they grow up, desire\nnot to be ignorant of--that they may know how to offend God. This\nis sin, so easily committed and so often committed, so quickly\ncommitted and so soon forgotten. Such it is in the sight of God\nand the holy angels. O sinner! when you smile, often when you are\nrejoicing over your wicked pleasure, the heavens are black\noverhead, and God is angry, and the angel of vengeance stands at\nyour side with a glittering spear, that he may plunge it in your\nheart.\n{232}\nWhile you are careless, heaven and earth are groaning over your\nguilt. \"_Wonder, O ye heavens, and be in amazement_,\" says\nGod by the prophet. \"_My people have done two evils. They have\nleft me, the fountain of living water, and have digged out\ncisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.\" \"Hear, O\nheavens, and give ear, O earth, for the Lord hath spoken. I have\nbrought up children and exalted them, but they have despised me.\nThe ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib, but\nIsrael hath not known me, and my people hath not understood. Woe\nto the sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a wicked\nseed, ungracious children: they have forsaken the Lord, they have\nblasphemed the Holy one of Israel, they have gone away\nbackward_.\" [Footnote 18]\n\n    [Footnote 18: Isai. i. 2, 3, 4.]\n\nBut in the second place, mortal sin is the greatest of all evils\nas regards the sinner himself. Let us consider what are its\neffects. Ah, my brethren, some of these effects are obvious\nenough. We have not to go far to seek them. We know them\nourselves. What is the cause of much of the sickness that affects\nour race? What but sin? What is it that has ruined so many\nreputations, that once were fair and unblemished? What is it that\nhas destroyed the peace of so many families? It is sin. What is\nit that makes so many young persons prematurely old, which steals\nthe bloom from the cheek and the lustre from the eye, and\ngladness from the heart, and strength from the voice, and\nelasticity from the gait? Ah! it is sin. Yes! the effects of sin\nare visible and obvious to all around us, and these external\neffects of sin are dreadful enough, but they are not so dreadful\nas the internal effects, on which I purpose particularly to\ndwell. Well, my brethren, I just said that the nature of a mortal\nsin is to turn away from God to the creature.\n{233}\nNow, its effect is to kill the soul. There is a twofold life of\nthe soul. One is a natural life, and this it can never lose, not\neven in hell, since it can never cease to be; and the other is\nthe life of grace. You know, my brethren, that in the heart of a\ngood Christian there dwells a wonderful quality, the gift of the\nHoly Ghost, which we call grace. It is given first in baptism,\nand resides habitually in the soul unless it is lost by mortal\nsin. This it is which makes the soul acceptable to God, and\ncapable of pleasing Him, and of meriting heaven. This grace was\npurchased for us by the blood of Jesus Christ, and is the most\nprecious gift of God. It ennobles, beautifies, elevates,\nstrengthens, and enlightens the soul in which it dwells: in a\nword, it is the life of the soul. This grace abides in the soul\nof every faithful Christian, the little child, the virtuous young\nman and young woman, the old man and the matron, the rich and the\npoor. Everyone who is in the state of friendship with God is\npossessed of this grace. He may be poor, sick, weak in body,\ndisgusting as Lazarus was, but if he is the friend of God, his\nsoul is endowed with the gift of grace. Now, the moment that one\ncommits a mortal sin, the moment that a baptized Christian turns\naway from God to the creature, that moment his soul is stripped\nof this divine grace. The moment that a mortal sin is committed,\nin an instant, in the twinkling of an eye, that robe of grace\nfalls off from the soul and leaves it in its deformity and\nweakness. It cannot be otherwise. \"Can two walk together,\" says\nHoly Scripture, \"and not be agreed?\" Can God remain united to the\nsoul which has cast Him off by an act of complete and formal\nrebellion? Oh, no! God bears much with us, He retains His\nfriendship for us as long as He can, He restrains His displeasure\nwhen we are weak and irresolute and tired in His service; yes,\nwhen we a little turn our heads and hearts toward that world\nwhich we have renounced, when we do things that, although wrong,\nare not altogether so grievous as to amount to a renunciation of\nHis friendship: but once make a full choice between God and the\ncreature, and God's friendship is lost.\n{234}\nYou cannot reject it and retain it at the same time. God sees\nthings exactly as they are: as you act toward Him, He will act\ntoward you. By mortal sin you renounce Him, and therefore He must\nrenounce you. How can I describe to you the change that takes\nplace in that moment? It has more resemblance to the degradation\nof a priest than any thing else. If a priest commits certain\ngreat crimes, the Church prescribes that he be solemnly degraded\nfrom the priesthood; and nothing is more dreadful than the\nceremonial. He stands before the bishop, clad in his sacred\nvestments, with alb and cincture, and maniple and stole, and with\nthe chalice in which he has been wont to consecrate the blood of\nthe Lord in his hands. Then when the sentence of degradation has\nbeen pronounced, the chalice is taken out of his hands--he shall\noffer the sacrifice of the Lord's body no more; the golden\nchasuble is taken off his back, no more shall he bear the glory\nof the priesthood; the stole is seized from off his neck--he has\nlost the stole of immortality; the white alb is torn from him--\nhe has lost the beauty of innocence; and last of all, his hands,\non which at his ordination the holy oil was poured, are\nscraped--he has lost the unction of the Holy Ghost. So it is in\nthe moment that one commits a mortal sin. The Holy Scripture\ncalls every Christian a king and a priest, because in his soul he\nis noble and united to God; and the soul of the meanest Christian\nis far more beautiful in God's sight than the grandest monarch,\ndressed in his richest robes, is to our sight. Well, now, as soon\nas a mortal sin is committed, and God departs, then the\ndegradation of the soul takes place. The devil tears away the\ngarment of justice, the splendor of beauty, the whiteness of\ninnocence, the robe of immortality, which make the soul worthy of\nthe companionship of angels, and the friendship of God. All, all\nare gone. Oh, how abject and wretched is such a soul!\n{235}\nOh I how quickly will this awful change go on, and even the poor\nsoul herself thinks not of it! And do not think this horrible\nhistory is of rare occurrence. No! it takes place in every case\nof mortal sin. Look at that young man. See, his air and bearing\nshow you that he knows something of the world, and that life has\nno secrets for him. Still there was once a time when that young\nman was innocent. He was a good Catholic child, his soul\nglistened with the brightness of baptismal grace. God looked down\nfrom heaven and smiled with pleasure; his guardian angel followed\nhim in watchfulness indeed, but with joy and hope. He had his\nlittle trials, but what was it all--what was poverty or sickness\nor disappointment? Was he not a Christian? Was he not a friend of\nGod, was not his soul beautiful in God's sight? Such he was; but\na day came, a dark and dreadful day, when a voice, a seducing\nvoice, spoke in the paradise of that heart: \"_Rejoice,\ntherefore, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer\nthee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart,\nand in the sight of thine eyes_.\" [Footnote 19]\n\n    [Footnote 19: Eccles. xi. 9.]\n\nHe listened to that voice and he fell: he was a changed being, he\nhad committed his first mortal sin. Oh! if he could have seen the\nangry frown of God, the sad and downcast look of his guardian\nangel. Oh! if he could have heard the shriek of triumph that came\nup from the devils in hell. \"Thou art also wounded as well as we,\nthou art become like unto us. Thy pride is brought down to hell.\nThy carcass is fallen down. [Footnote 20]\n\n    [Footnote 20: Isai. xiv. 10, 11.]\n\nBut he hears nothing, he sees nothing, his brain is on fire, his\nheart is burned by passion. The world opens to him her brilliant\npleasures, and he is perverted. His tastes and thoughts are all\ncorrupted. He does not like the sacraments any more, or Mass or\nprayer; his delight is in haunts of dissipation, in drinking and\ndebauchery. He commits every mortal sin, and each deepens the\nstains of his soul and increases his misery. Perhaps here and\nthere, for a while, he comes to confession, but he falls back.\n{236}\nHe neglects his church, begins to curse and blaspheme holy\nthings, and then he is a wretched being, astray from God, with\nGod's curse upon him, the slave of the devil, the heir of hell,\nfair indeed without; but look within--full of rottenness and\nuncleanness. Oh, weep for him--\"_Weep not for the dead,_\"\nsays Holy Scripture, \"_lament for him that goeth away, for he\nshall not return again._\" [Footnote 21]\n\n    [Footnote 21: Jer. xxii. 10.]\n\nWeep for that young man who has wandered away from his God. Weep\nfor that young woman who has stained her soul with mortal sin.\nWeep for that old man who has let years go by in sin, and whose\nsins are counted by the thousand. Weep not for your child who\nleaves you to go to a distant land, but weep for him who is on\nhis way to the land of eternal night, where everlasting horror\ninhabiteth. Weep for him who is on his way to hell. Is it not a\nstory to make one weep? The ruin of a soul! \"_How is the gold\nbecome dim, the fairest color is changed, the noble sons of Sion,\nand they that were clothed with the best of gold, how are they\nesteemed as earthen vessels, and the iniquity of the daughter of\nmy people is made greater than the sin of Sodom._\" [Footnote 22]\n\n    [Footnote 22: Lam. iv. 1, 2, 6.]\n\nOnce you were innocent, now you are guilty. Once you had a fair\nchance of heaven, now heaven is closed to you. Once, perhaps, you\nhad rich merits laid up for heaven, you had gone through many\ntrials, you had borne many sufferings, had achieved many labors\nof piety, and for each of them the good God, who never allows any\ngood work to go unrewarded, had added many a jewel to your crown;\nbut, alas! that crown is broken, those jewels scattered and\ncrushed, those merits lost. And what has done this. That mortal\nsin! that rebellion against God, that sinful gratification, that\nturning away from God and loss of grace which it brought with it.\nAh! my brethren, when I think of these things, when I think that\nChristians are falling into sin, and, for a very trifle and a\nnothing, losing the favor of God, I feel as if I wished all\npreachers should go out to the whole world and cry out: \"Know\nthou and see that it is an evil and a bitter thing for thee to\nhave left the Lord thy God.\" I am not surprised that St. Ignatius\nsaid he would be willing to do all he did for the prevention of\none mortal sin.\n\n{237}\n\nBut, my brethren I have not as yet described the full effects of\nmortal sin. It immediately makes us liable to the eternal\npunishment of hell. That is what hell is made for. It is the\nprison for mortal sin. Apostates from the faith, drunkards,\nmurderers, adulterers, the impure, the dishonest, the profane,\nthe impious, calumniators, and all sinners \"shall have their\nportion in the pool burning with fire and brimstone, which is the\nsecond death.\" The sentence of damnation is in the next life, but\ndamnation itself begins in this. Each one of us is a candidate\nfor heaven or hell, at this present moment. Hell is not something\nwhich is assigned to us arbitrarily. We dig our own hell for\nourselves. When we first commit a mortal sin we open hell under\nour feet, and every time we commit a fresh mortal sin we deepen\nthat hell. It may happen even that the sentence is passed in the\nsame instant that we sin. Many men die in the very act of sin.\nThe fallen angels, themselves, sank into hell the very instant\nthey committed mortal sin, and the instant they committed the\nfirst mortal sin. You know, my brethren, that the angels were\ncreated very beautiful and powerful. There were myriads and\nmyriads of them. They were as beautiful as Gabriel or Michael or\nRaphael; and yet, as soon as they committed one mortal sin,\nnotwithstanding their glory, their beauty, their number, their\nsplendid intellects, their power, they were hurled from the\nthrones of heaven; not only defaced, degraded, and dishonored by\nthe loss of sanctifying grace, but condemned to hell, chained in\neverlasting darkness, waiting for the judgment of the great day.\nIf God dealt so with the angels, surely there is nothing unjust\nin cutting off the days of a sinner in the very moment of sin.\n{238}\nOh! my brethren, I will tell you what happens when one sins: the\ndevils come and claim this soul as their own: this poor soul\nbecomes the slave of the devil, the heir of hell and of\ndamnation. It is not for nothing, then, that conscience makes\nsuch a terrible alarm in the soul when we commit a mortal sin.\nTell me, did you not at the moment you sinned hear a stern voice\nspeaking in the depths of your heart? Tell me, O my brethren, did\nyou not, when you were deeply plunged in sinful enjoyment, feel a\ndreadful pang at your heart? Tell me, now that you stand in God's\nholy presence, tell me now, is there not something within you\nthat tells you, you are ruined? What is that? Ah! that is the\nbeginning of the remorse of the damned. That is the sting of the\nworm that shall never die. That is the shadow of thine eternal\ndoom in thy soul. It tells thee that thou art the child of the\ndevil; it tells thee that thou hast lost God, and that thou art\nnot fit for heaven, but art an heir of hell. And it tells thee\ntruly. If this moment thou wert to die, like Dives, thou wouldst\nbe buried in hell. And why? For a momentary gratification of\nappetite? Is that what you will be punished for? No; but because,\nfor a momentary gratification of appetite, thou hast forsaken the\nLord thy God, broken His law, lost His grace. Thou hast made thy\nchoice. Thou hast chosen sin and not God, and death overtakes\nthee before thou hast returned to God by penance, and thou art\nlost; lost on account of thy sin, lost forever on account of thy\nsin. Go down to the chambers of hell, ask Dives, ask Judas, ask\nthe fallen angels, ask each one who in that dark abode drags out\na long eternity; ask them what it is that brought them there, and\nthey will tell you, mortal sin. It is mortal sin that kindles\nthat flame, that feeds that fire, that makes them burn\nunceasingly, and forever. Oh then, tell me! if you will not\nlisten to reason, to God, to the angels; will you not listen to\nyour companions lost?\n{239}\nHearken to them as from their dark prison they cry out, \"It is an\nevil and a bitter thing to have left the Lord thy God.\"\n\nSuch, my brethren, is mortal sin. Such is one mortal sin. It does\nnot require many mortal sins to lose God's grace or incur\ndamnation. One is enough--one final deliberate rebellion against\nGod and his holy law.\n\n* * *\n\n  (Peroration, according to the circumstances.)\n\n\n-----------------\n\n    Sermon III.\n\n    The Particular Judgment.\n\n   (Mission Sermon.)\n\n\n  \"It is a dreadful thing\n  to fall into the hands of the living God.\"\n  --Heb. x. 31.\n\n\nThere is a moment, my brethren, in the history of each immortal\nsoul, which, of all others that precede or follow it, is the\nfullest of experience: the moment after death. The moment of\ndeath is indeed the decisive moment of our history. Then the\nquestion is settled, once for all, whether we are to be happy or\nmiserable for all eternity; but, for the most part, we do not\nknow that decision. Many men die insensible. By far the larges\npart of those I have seen die, have died insensible. And even\nwhen the power of the mind remains to the last, it is extremely\ndifficult to form any true conception of that state of things\ninto which the soul is about to be ushered. It is difficult to\nconceive aright beforehand of any thing to which we are\nunaccustomed. Did it ever happen to you to visit a strange\ncountry, and to form anticipations of what it would seem like,\nand did not the reality falsify all your anticipations? Well, how\nmuch more difficult to realize those things which the soul sees\nimmediately after death, and which are so much farther removed\nfrom our former experience!\n{240}\nAccording to Catholic theology, immediately after death, the soul\nappears in the presence of Jesus Christ to be judged--to receive\nan unalterable sentence to heaven or to hell. If to hell, no\nprayers can benefit it; if to heaven, it goes there immediately\nor not, according to the degree of its goodness. But it is judged\nunalterably to heaven or hell, the moment after death. And\nCatholic theologians teach that this judgment takes place in the\nvery chamber of death itself. There, in that room, while they are\ndressing the body for the grave, closing the eyes, bandaging the\nmouth, arranging the limbs in order, that soul has already\nlearned the secrets of the eternal world. Naked and alone, it had\nstood before its Judge, and heard its doom pronounced. To\neveryone, no doubt, even to the most pious, to those who have\nmeditated on the truths of faith, there will be something\nalarming in this moment; but, oh! what will it be to the sinful\nCatholic? What will be the thoughts and feelings of that large\nclass of Catholics, now careless about their salvation, who are\nobeying every impulse of passion, and breaking every commandment\nof God? This, indeed, is a difficult question to answer. There is\nbut little in this world that can help us to portray the emotions\nof the lost Catholic, the moment after death; but I will not on\nthis account desist from attempting to describe it. I will\nconsider your advantage rather than my own satisfaction, and\nthough I feel deeply that I shall not be able to describe the\nscene I undertake in anything like the colors of truth, I will\nundertake to do what I can.\n\nFirst, then, following the soul beyond the limits of this world,\nI see her overwhelmed with a _conviction_ of the reality and\ntruth of the objects of her faith. Now, in saying that this soul\nobtains a conviction of the truths of faith, I do not mean to\nsuppose the case of one who has been a sceptic in this world. The\ntruth is, faith is so strong a principle in the heart of a\nCatholic, that it is exceedingly difficult to put it out or shake\nit.\n{241}\nAnd although it sometimes happens that a Catholic; from reading\nbad books, or frequenting the society of those who blaspheme his\nreligion, or from becoming acquainted suddenly with some of the\ndifficulties which science seems to present to faith, and not\nknowing the answer to them, or from the petty pride of seeming\nwiser than his neighbors, and making objections which unlearned\nCatholics cannot answer, may use the language of a sceptic; yet\nsuch cases are very rare, and the scepticism is not very deep. A\nlittle guidance from one who knows better, and a little humility\non the part of such an objector, will set all right. But there is\na kind of infidelity not so easily cured, and far more common\namong Catholics--a practical infidelity, an insensibility and\nindifference to the truths of faith. The truths of faith--I mean,\nheaven and hell, God and the soul--are not seen by the eye--it\nrequires reflection to realize them; but the world, and the\nobjects which it presents, are visible and tangible. The former\nare lost sight of, while the latter absorb all our thoughts. The\nbody clamors for necessities and pleasures, and the soul, and\nthings of eternity, are simply forgotten. It is almost the same\nto many men as if there were no God, no eternity, no heaven, or\nno hell. Really, one hardly sees in what the lives of many\nCatholics would differ from what they are now if there were no\nGod, no heaven or hell. I do not mean to say that they have no\nfaith at all, for even the heathens have some faith; or that they\nnever think of God, for then they would be brutes; but that these\nthings have no real hold on their minds or influence over their\nhearts. They never reflect. They stay away from the sacraments.\nThey do not listen to sermons. They have no correct idea at all\nof the advantage they enjoy in being Catholics; in a word, they\nbreak the commandments of God on the slightest temptation, are\nchildren of this world and immersed in its cares and enjoyments.\nNow, one of these men meets with a sudden death.\n{242}\nHe goes out in the morning--perhaps he is a mechanic--and he\nfalls from a height. He is taken up and put in a litter hastily\nmade, and carried home. It is apparent that life is ebbing fast.\nIn a few minutes he becomes speechless. He has lost his sight.\nAh! does he breathe at all? It is hard to say. The doctor comes\nin great haste. He feels his pulse, looks at him, and says, \"It\nis all over. He has received an injury in a vital part. He is\ndead.\" Yes, he is dead. This morning he was alive and well, he\nwas making his plans, he was talking of the weather--now he is\ndead. All his old thoughts and experience are all rolled back by\na new set of things that are forcing themselves on his vision. He\nis dead. He died suddenly; but not without warning. Others have\ndied in his home before--he is not young. He has seen wife and\nchildren die. It made him weep for a while; but he forgot it, and\nnow his turn is come--he is dead. I will not stop to notice the\ngrief of the friends he leaves behind. No; I will follow his\nsoul, as it enters eternity. The voice of his friends dies on his\near--he begins to hear other voices. As he ceases to see the\npeople in his room he begins to see other objects. Who is that,\nthat is standing at the foot of his bed? A neighbor was standing\nthere but just now; but this is another form, a form beautiful,\nindeed, but majestic and terrible. No; it is not anyone he has\never seen before, and yet, he ought to know that face. He has\nseen it before; it is the face his mother looked on as she was\ndying-the face he had often seen in Catholic churches. Yes, it is\nJesus Christ. He knows it; it is the same, and yet, how\ndifferent! When he saw that face in pictures, it was crowned with\nthorns; now it is crowned with a diadem of matchless glory. When\nhe saw that form in the church, it was naked, and hanging on the\nCross; now it is clothed with garments of regal magnificence.\nYes, it is Jesus Christ! and He is looking upon him with eyes of\nfire. He turns to escape those eyes, and he sees there are other\nfigures in the scene.\n{243}\nThere are two figures--one at the right hand, and one at the\nleft. Who are they? He ought to know them, for they know more of\nhim than anyone else--they have been his companions for life. One\nis very beautiful--a being with golden locks and cloud-like\nwings--that is his angel guardian; he looks sad now, for he has\nnothing good to say. And the other is the black and hideous demon\nof hell, that crouches at his side, full of hate and malice, and\ntriumph, too, for he has dogged the steps of this poor sinner\nfrom youth to age, and now the time has come for him to seize his\nprey. And now, as the sinner looks from one to another, the\nmeaning of it an breaks upon him. Conviction flashes upon his\nmind. He may not have been an infidel before; but putting his\npast feelings by the side of his present experience, it seems\nalmost as if he had been. Did it ever happen to you to be talking\nquite unconcernedly, and all at once to find that others were\nlistening, before whom for worlds you would not have used such\nunreserve. Well, to compare small things with great, something\nlike this will be the feeling of the sinner when the curtain of\ntime draws up, and shows him the realities of eternity. The whole\ntide of his past thoughts and feelings will be arrested, and,\nwith a great check, rolled back before the new set of experiences\nand sights that rush in on him. Oh! he will say, what is this\nthat I see and hear? Has Jesus Christ always been so near me?\nHave my guardian angel and the demon that has tempted me been\nalways in this very room? Ah, yes! it is even so. I have been\nliving in a dream all my life, and pursuing shadows. It is true,\nas I learned in the catechism, and as the Church taught me, I was\nnot made for the world or for sin, but for God. I had a soul, and\nthe end of my being was to love and serve my Maker. He has been\nwatching me all my days, and I have thought little of Him. I\nheard of judgment, but I did not give heed to it, or I placed it\nfar off in the future; but now it is here at the door. There is\nmy Saviour, there my angel guardian, there the demon.\n{244}\nOnce I heard of these things, now I see them with my eyes. Yes,\nit is all true. The world did not seem to believe it, the world\nforgot it; but the world was wrong. The poor and the simple were\nright, after all, and the wise ones taken in their own\ncraftiness. Yes, Christianity is true, Catholicity is true; I\ncannot doubt it, if I would, for there it stares me in the face!\nO, overwhelming conviction! You have heard of the answer of a\nself-denying old monk to a wild, licentious youth, who reproached\nhim with his folly in living so severe a life for the sake of a\nhereafter he had never seen. \"Father,\" said the youth, \"how much\nwiser I am than you, if there be no hereafter!\" \"Yes, my son,\"\nreplied the aged man, \"but how much more foolish, if there be!\" O\nfearful discovery, to come on one for the first time, with a\nstrong and deep impression, at the very threshold of eternity! O\nmiserable man! why did you not think of these things before? Why\ndid you rush into the presence of your Maker without forethought?\nNow, for the first time, to think seriously, when there is no\nlonger freedom in thought, or merit in faith. O, the folly and\nthe misery!\n\nBut I must pass on, for these are but the beginning of sorrows.\nThe conviction, then, that the soul acquires in the first moment\nof her experience in the other world is accompanied by a mortal\nterror. Why is Jesus Christ there? Why are the angel and the\ndemon there? Ah! he knows well. It is to try him. Yes, he is to\nbe tried, and to be tried by an unerring judge--by Jesus Christ.\nTo be tried; and that is something he is not used to. He never\ntried himself. He never examined his conscience. He was afraid to\ndo it, and if sometimes the thought of a hereafter intruded\nitself into his mind, he banished it, and thought he would escape\nsomehow or other. Perhaps he built on the very name of Catholic,\nor on the sacraments, as if they possessed a magical power, and\nwould change him at once, in the hour of death, from a sinner to\na saint.\n{245}\nPerhaps he thought that God would strike a balance between the\ngood and the evil that was in him, and pardon him for being as\nwicked as he was because he was no worse. Perhaps he built simply\non the mercy of God. So far as he thought at all, he built his\nhopes on some such foundation as this. He did not know how, but\nhe thought somehow he would get off. It is the old story.\nAlmighty God said to Eve: \"In the day thou eatest thereof thou\nshalt surely die.\" And Eve said to the serpent: \"We may not eat\nit, lest we die.\" And the serpent said: \"Ye shall not surely\ndie.\" So it is; man's self-love reasons, and the devil denies.\nBut the time has come when the deceits of sin and the devil are\ndiscovered. The sinner is to be tried. He stands as a culprit to\nbe judged. And by what law is he to be tried? By the ten\ncommandments, of which he has heard so often, and which he has\nneglected so completely. God says: \"Thou shalt not break My\ncommandments, and in the day thou breakest them thou shalt surely\ndie.\" God had said: \"Thou shalt not commit adultery.\" He had\ncommitted it. God had said: \"Thou shalt not steal;\" and he had\nstolen. God had said: \"Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath day.\" He\nhad broken the Sunday and neglected the Sunday's Mass. God had\nsaid: \"Thou shalt do no murder;\" and he had murdered his own soul\nby drunkenness. He had grown bold in sin, and thought that God\nhad hidden away his face, and would never see it. And now he is\nbrought to trial. There is no hope that his transgressions\nagainst the commandments can be hidden. The demon is there as his\naccuser.\n\n\"I claim this soul as mine. Look at it; see if it does not belong\nto me? Does it not look like me? Wilt thou take a soul like that\nand place it in thy paradise?\" At these words the sinner looks\ndown upon himself and sees his own soul. He has never seen it\nbefore. Oh, what a sight! As a man is horror-struck the first\ntime he sees his blotched and bloated face after an attack of\nsmall-pox, so is he horror-struck at the sight of his own soul.\n{246}\nOh, how horribly ugly and defiled it is! What are those stains\nupon his soul Ah! they are the stains of sin. Each one has left\nits separate mark; and to look at that soul you might see its\nhistory. There is the gangrene of lust, and the spot of anger,\nand the tumor of pride, and the scale of avarice. Ah! how hideous\nit is, and how horrible to think how it is changed, for it was\nonce like that beautiful angel that stands by its side, all\nradiant with light and beauty. It has no resemblance now. The\nwords of the demon are true; it resembles him. But the accuser\ngoes on: \"I claim this body as mine.\" He turns to the body, as it\nlies in the bed: \"I claim those eyes as mine, by the title of all\nthe lascivious looks they have given. I claim those hands as\nmine, by the title of all the robberies and acts of violence they\nhave committed. I claim those feet as mine, because they were\nswift to carry him to the place of forbidden pleasures, and slow\nto go to the house of God. I claim these ears as mine, by the\ntitle of all the detraction they have drunk in so greedily. I\nclaim this mouth as mine, by the title of all the blasphemies and\nimpurities it has uttered. See,\" says he, \"this body is mine; it\nbears my mark;\" and as he speaks he points to a scar in the\nforehead, the remnant of a wound received in a drunken affray in\na house of ill-fame. Surely he has said enough; but he is not\naccustomed to be believed. He has now spoken the truth indeed,\nbecause truth serves his purpose better than falsehood would have\ndone. But he knows he is a liar, and therefore needs\nconfirmation; so he goes on: \"I have witnesses, if you want them.\nShall I bring them up?\" Jesus Christ gives his permission. And\nnow see, at his word, a band of lost spirits come up from hell.\nOh! how pale and haggard they look, and how they glare on the\nsinner as they fix on him a look of recognition. Who is that who\nspeaks to him first, and holds out her long withered fingers to\nhim, and says, with a horrid laugh: \"I think you know me.\"\n{247}\nOh! that is the poor girl he seduced. She says: \"I followed thee\nto ruin; it is fitting thou shouldst follow me to hell.\" But\nthere is another woman. Who is that? That is his poor wife; his\npoor wife, who had to put up with all the cruelties and violence\nhe practised in his beastly drunkenness; who was led by want to\nsteal, and by despair to drunkenness. She looks upon him with a\nblood-shot eye. \"My husband,\" she says: \"thou wert my tormentor\nin time; I will be thy tormentor in eternity.\" But who are those\nyoung people, that young man and young woman? Oh, they are his\neldest children, his boy and girl, of whom he took no care; who,\nfinding nothing but a hell at home, went out--the one to the\ntavern and the gaming-room, the other to the ball and the dance\nand the lonely place of assignation, and, after a short career of\ndissipation, were both cut off in their sin. They meet him, and\nnow they say: \"Father, thou didst pave the way of perdition for\nus, and now we will cling to thee, and drag thee deeper, who art\nat once the author of our life and of our destruction.\" Ah! has\nnot the demon made out his case? Can there be hope for one like\nthat? Are you not ready to condemn him yourselves to hell? But\nwait--perhaps he did good penance. And the Judge, turning to the\nangel guardian says: \"My good and faithful servant, what has thou\nto say in behalf of this soul, which was committed to thy\nespecial care?\" The angel looks down upon the ground and sighs,\nand answers, \"Most just and holy Sovereign, alas! I have nothing\nto say that can set aside the accusation Thou hast beard. All I\ncan do is to vindicate Thy justice and my fidelity. I have given\nto the man all the graces Thou hast prepared for him. He was a\nCatholic. He had the sacraments. He had warnings. He had faith.\nHe had many special graces. He had the mission; and I myself\noften spoke to him in his heart, calling him to do penance, but\nhe never did do penance. He was careless in attendance at Mass.\n{248}\nHe was seldom at the confessional, and when he did come he made\nhis confession without a sincere purpose of amendment, and soon\nrelapsed into his former sins, and at last he died without\npenance. Therefore there is nothing left for me but to resign my\ncharge and to return the crown\"--here the angel takes up a\nbeautiful crown--\"to return the crown which Thou hadst made for\nhim, that Thou mayst place it on another brow.\" \"Dost Thou not\nhear,\" the demon once more cries out impatiently--\"Dost thou not\nhear what the angel says? Yes, this man is mine, has always been\nmine. I did not create him, and yet he always served me. Thou\ndidst create him, and yet he has refused to obey Thee. I never\ndied for him, yet he has been my willing slave. Thou didst die\nfor him, and yet he has \"blasphemed Thy name, broken Thy laws and\ndespised Thy promises. Thou didst allure him by kindness, but\nwert not able to win his affection. I led him to hell, and found\nhim willing to follow. O Jesus, thou Son of the living God, if\nThou dost not give me this soul, there is neither truth in Thy\nword nor justice in Thy awards.\" The demon speaks boldly, but\nJesus Christ suffers him to speak so, because he speaks truly;\nand oh, with what terror does the poor sinner hear that truth!\nBut terror is not the only feeling that is to fill his heart.\nDespair is to come in, to make his misery complete. He begins to\ncry for mercy. \"O God, mercy! have mercy, O Jesus Christ! Do not\nlet me perish whom Thou hast redeemed. I have had the faith; oh,\ndo not let me come to perdition! Only one quarter of an hour to\ndo penance!\" Can Jesus Christ resist such an appeal? No, my\nbrethren, if there were a real disposition to do penance in the\nheart. I will undertake to say that if the devils of hell were\nwilling to do penance, God would forgive them. But there is no\npenance in the other world. There is only the desire to escape\npunishment, not the desire to escape sin; and being out of the\norder of the present providence of God, which leaves the will\nfree, there is no real conversion there.\n{249}\nTherefore Jesus Christ answers: \"O wicked man, thy deeds condemn\nthee. Thou callest for mercy, but it is too late. The time for\nmercy is over! Mercy! thou hast shown no mercy to thyself, to thy\nwife or children. Mercy! I have shown thee mercy all the days of\nthy life. I sent thee my preachers, and thou didst refuse to\nlisten. There is no mercy now but justice--and therefore I\npronounce the everlasting sentence. I consign this man's soul to\nhell, and his body to the resurrection of damnation.\" Did you\nhear that howl? That was the devil's howl of triumph. Jesus\nChrist is gone. The angel is gone; and the devil goes to the\nbody. They have not done washing it. He begins to wash too. What\nis he doing. He is washing the forehead; for on that forehead,\nthe mark of Christ, the holy cross, was placed in baptism, and he\nis washing it out, and with a brand from hell he places there his\nown signet--the signet of perdition. And now the soul, feeling\nthe full extent of her misery, cries out: \"I am damned. I am\ndamned! no hope more; not even Purgatory. Oh, I never thought it\nwould come to this; I did but do as the others. I was no worse\nthan my companions, and now I am lost. I that was a Catholic, I\nthat had always a good name, and was liked by my friends. And oh,\nare the judgments of God so strict? What will become of my\ncompanions whom I left on the earth, wild and reckless like my\nself? Will they too follow me to this place of torment! Oh, why\ndid not the priest speak of this? Alas! he did, but I would not\nhear. Alas, alas, it is too late now! Shall I never see Jesus\nChrist again? Must I forever despair?\" And a voice rises from the\nwalls of eternity with ten thousand reverberations: \"Despair.\"\nCan there be any thing more dreadful still? Yes, the sinner's cup\nhas one more ingredient of bitterness--remorse. You know what a\ncomfort it is to be able to say, \"It was not my fault, I did what\nI could.\" But the sinner will not have that comfort. On the\ncontrary, he will say, \"I might have been saved. It is all true\nwhich the angel said.\n{250}\nI was a Catholic, and had the means of salvation. I might have\nbeen saved, saved easily, more easily than I was lost. I was\nnever happy; sin never made me happy. I sinned, and gained for\nmyself misery even in the other world. Fool that I was, I might\nhave done penance, and been happier after it, in time and in\neternity. How little God asked of me! I had the mission, if I had\nbut made it well. Oh, what trouble I took to be damned, and how\nlittle was required of me to be saved! Yesterday, God was ready;\nthe sacraments were at hand, the church door open, the priest was\nawaiting me; but now all is closed. Oh, if I had them now!\" But\nhis complaints are silenced. An iron grasp is on his throat. The\ndemon has his black hand on his throat and chokes him; then he\nputs his horrid arms around him, and hugs him as the anaconda\nhugs her victims. He carries him swiftly through the air: down,\ndown they go--until at last they reach the gates of hell. They\ncreak upon their hinges, they open, the demon enters with his\nprey, and casts it on the bed of flames prepared for it. Then a\nyell is heard throughout those dismal regions: \"One more Catholic\nvocation thrown away, one more soul lost, one more devil in\nhell.\"\n\nCome, let us go back to that room where the corpse is laid out.\nThey have just finished preparing it for the grave, and all that\nwe have described has been taking place in that very room too,\nand they have not known it. They have smoothed the body and laid\na white cloth over it; and they say, how natural it looks. It\nwears the smile they remember it used to wear in youth, and that\npoor soul they are talking of is damned. Jesus Christ has been\nthere, and adjudged it to hell. And this is going on every day.\nWherever death takes a man, there judgment meets him. Jesus\nChrist meets men in all kinds of places.\n{251}\nYou know how death met Baltassar. He was a drunkard, an\nadulterer, a sacrilegious robber; and one night, when he was\ndrunk, and held a grand feast, surrounded by his concubines, and\nwith the vessels of God's house on his table, a hand appeared on\nthe wall and wrote this sentence: \"Mene, Mene, Thecel, Phares;\"\nand that night he died. Yes! in the midst of their sin; in the\nplace where they go, Jesus Christ meets the soul, and condemns it\nto hell. He meets it in the grogshop, where wild companions are\ngathered together, and one of them falls to the ground, under the\nblow of a companion, and dies. There upon that spot, with those\nbad companions standing around, with the sound of blasphemy in\nhis ear, Jesus Christ, unseen, meets that soul and condemns it to\nhell. Another is shot in the street, on his way to keep an\nassignation, and then and there, in the street, Jesus Christ\nmeets him and condemns him to hell. One dies in the low hovel,\nwhere squalid vice and misery have done all they could to\nbrutalise the inmates, and then and there Jesus Christ, in that\nhovel, meets the soul and condemns it to hell. Another dies in a\nbed covered with silken tapestry, and as he dies he sees the face\nof Jesus Christ looking in through the silken curtains to\npronounce the sentence against him, who had made a god of this\nworld. Another dies in prison, and there in that cell where human\njustice placed him, divine justice meets him, and in that prison\nJesus Christ meets him and condemns him to hell. Yes, wherever\ndeath meets you, O sinner, there Jesus Christ will meet you, and\nthere he will condemn you. It may be tomorrow. It may be in the\nvery act of the commission of sin. It may be without any\nopportunity of preparation, you will stand before an inflexible\nand unerring Judge. Oh, then, do not delay now to propitiate Him\nwhile you can. In that tribunal after death, there is no mercy\nfor the sinner; but there is another tribunal, which He has\nestablished, where there is mercy--the tribunal of penance. There\nthe accuser is not the demon, but the sinner himself; and he is\nnot only his own accuser, but his own witness against himself.\nThere the angel guardian waits with joy, not with sorrow. There\nJesus Christ is present, but not in wrath.\n{252}\nThere the sentence is, \"I absolve thee from thy sin,\" not \"I\ncondemn thee for thy sin.\" Oh, then, appeal from one tribunal to\nthe other. Appeal from Jesus Christ to Jesus Christ. Appeal from\nJesus Christ at the day of judgment to Jesus Christ in the\nconfessional. And if thou wouldst not be condemned by Him when\nthou seest Him after death, be sure thou gettest a favorable\nsentence from Him now in the Sacrament of Penance. \"_Make an\nagreement with thy adversary quickly, whilst thou art in the way\nwith him: lest perhaps the adversary deliver thee to the judge,\nand the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into\nprison. Amen. I say to thee, thou shalt not go out from thence\ntill thou pay the last farthing._\" [Footnote 23]\n\n    [Footnote 23: St. Matt. v. 25.]\n\n---------------------------\n\n    Sermon IV.\n\n    Heaven.\n\n    (Mission Sermon.)\n\n\n   \"Rejoice and be exceeding glad,\n   because your reward is very great in heaven.\"\n   --St: Matt. v. 12.\n\n\nSome of you may remember the joy with which, after a sea voyage,\nyou arrived at home. The voyage had been very long and wearisome.\nYou had suffered, perhaps had been in danger. At last you heard\nthe sailors cry \"Land;\" and after a while, your less practised\neye began to discern the blue hills of your native country. Oh,\nhow that sight revived you! How your sufferings and dangers were\nall forgotten in the thought of the welcome that awaited you at\nhome!\n{253}\nWell, life is a voyage on the ocean of time; often a tempestuous,\nalways a dangerous voyage; and in order to animate our courage,\nto cheer and console us, God has allowed us from time to time to\ncatch a glimpse by faith of our distant home of heaven. Let us\nlift up our thoughts now to that happy land, the land that is\nvery far off, the land that is wide and quiet; the celestial\nparadise, the home of the blessed, the city of God. I know that\nwe cannot gain any sufficient idea of it. I know that eye hath\nnot seen its beauty, ear hath not heard the story of it, neither\nhath the heart of man conceived its image; but we must do as men\ndo with some costly jewel: turn it first on one side, then on\nanother, to catch its brilliancy; and if at the last we fall\ndown, blinded and dazzled by the splendors which meet us, we\nshall in this way at least conceive something of the greatness of\nthose things which God has provided for those who love Him.\n\nThe Holy Scripture represents the pleasures of heaven in three\ndifferent lights: first, as Rest; second, as Joy; third, as\nGlory. Let us, then, meditate upon them for a while, under each\none of these three aspects.\n\nFirst, then, heaven is a place of rest, by which I understand the\nabsence of all those things which disturb us here. True, there is\nhappiness even in this life, but how unsatisfactory, how\nfleeting! Here we are never far off from wretchedness, and never\nlong without trouble. You go into a great city: how rich and gay\nevery thing looks; what crowds of well-dressed people pass you!\nAh! in the next street there is the dismal hovel where poverty\nhides its head, and the children cry for bread, and there is no\none to break it to them. You are strong and healthy, and it is a\nstrange, fierce joy for you on a cold day to struggle with the\nbuffetings of the wintry blast; but see, the rude wind that\nkindles a glow on your cheek steals away the bloom from yonder\nsick man, whose feeble step and sharpened features tell of\nsuffering and disease.\n{254}\nYou have a happy family, and when you go home your children\nclamber up on your knees, and your wife meets you with a smile of\naffection. Alas! next door, the widow weeps the night long, and\nthere is none to comfort her, for the young man, the only son of\nhis mother, has been carried to his long home. And as if this\nwere not enough, as if sickness and poverty and death did not\ncause misery enough in the world, men's passions, hate and envy,\nlust, avarice, and pride, unite to make many a moment wretched\nthat might else have been happy. But in heaven these things shall\nbe no more. In heaven. there shall be complete and perfect rest.\nThe poor man will no more be forced to toil hardly and anxiously\nto put bread in his children's mouths--to rise up early, and late\ntake rest; for there they shall not hunger nor thirst any more.\nThe sick man then shall leap as a hart; he shall run and not be\nweary; he shall walk and not faint. The widow's tears shall be\ndried, for husband and son shall be again restored to her. Oh,\nwhat a day shall that be, when dear friends shall meet together,\nnever to part again, and God shall wipe all tears from their\neyes, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away; when the bodies of\nthe saints, glorious and immortal, no longer subject to decay or\nfatigue or death, clothed in light, shall enter the gates of the\ncelestial city, and shall have a right to the tree of life! And\nthere shall be no sin there, no gust of passion, no reproach of\nconscience, no sting of temptation. In this life, says St.\nAugustine, we have the liberty of being able not to sin, but in\nheaven we shall have the higher liberty of not being able to sin.\nBrother shall not rise up against brother, neither shall there be\nwar any more, for the former things are passed away. There shall\nbe no strife or hatred or envy; no wrong or oppression; no\nunkindness or coldness; no falsehood or insincerity; but within a\nperfect peace, and without an unalterable friendship between all\nthe inhabitants of this happy land, each rejoicing in the other's\nhappiness and glory. And there is no end to these joys of heaven.\n{255}\nHere our best pleasures are alloyed by their transitoriness; but\nthere, there is no fear for the future. No wave disturbs the\ndeep, clear sea of crystal that lies before the throne of God.\nThe angel has sworn that time shall be no longer, and the great\nday of eternity has begun. O heavenly Jerusalem! O city of God!\nwhich has no need of sun or moon to enlighten it, for there is no\nnight there! welcome haven of rest to the poor exiles of earth!\nBlessed are they that shall enter thy gates of pearl and tread\nthy streets of gold, for thou art the perfection of beauty and\nthe joy of the whole earth. In thy secure recesses the wicked\ncease from troubling and the weary are at rest. \"Blessed are they\nthat die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors. They shall\nnot hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, saith the Lord. My\npeople shall be all just; they shall inherit the land forever,\nthe branch of my planting, the work of my hands, to glorify me.\"\n\nBut though it is easier to describe heaven as a place of rest,\nthat is not the whole description of it. Heaven is also a place\nof joy, and of joy the most complete, the most pure, the most\nsatisfying that the human heart can possess. Joy in seeing and\nloving God, or, as it is called, in the Beatific Vision. This it\nis in which consists essentially the Christian idea of heaven. I\nsay the Christian idea, for our faith teaches us to look forward\nto a happiness very different from what we could have expected by\nnature. Of course natural reason teaches us to look forward to a\nfuture life, but it promises no other knowledge of God but such\nas is possible to our own natural powers when fully developed.\nBut Christianity promises us a knowledge of God to which our\nnatural powers, however enlarged, could never aspire. It teaches\nus that we shall see Him as He is--not only think about Him and\ncommune with Him and adore Him, but actually look upon His\nunveiled Divinity, gaze upon Him face to face. It is not of our\nLord's glorified humanity that I speak.\n{256}\nThat, too, we shall see, and that will be a sight of unspeakable\nbeauty and joy; but we shall see more: we shall look upon and\ninto the Divine Essence. Now to our natural powers this is\nimpossible. A blind man can know a great deal about the sun. He\nmay hear it described, he may reason about it, he may feel its\neffects, but he cannot lift up his eyes to heaven and see it. So,\nnaturally speaking, we have not the faculty whereby to see God.\n\"_No man hath seen God at any time_,\" says St. John.\n\"_Whom no man hath seen, or can see, who inhabiteth the light\ninaccessible_,\" says St. Paul.  [Footnote 24]\n\n    [Footnote 24: St. John i. 18; I. Tim. vi. 16.]\n\nClearly there must be some great change in us, something given to\nus that does not belong to us as men, in order to enable us to\nsee God, and the Holy Scripture tells us what that change shall\nbe: \"_We shall be like to Him, for we shall see Him as He\nis_,\" says St. John. [Footnote 25]\n\n    [Footnote 25: I. Ep. St. John iii. 2.]\n\nWe ourselves shall become divine and godlike. The human intellect\nshall be marvellously strengthened by a gift which the Church\ncalls the light of glory, which shall enable us to look upon God\nand live. We are told in Scripture that God walked in the garden\nof Eden and talked with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day. This\nhigh companionship was broken by the fall. Man was reduced to the\nrank that essentially belonged to him, and was deprived of that\nwhich had been accorded to him of grace. But by baptism he\nacquires once more a right to that familiar intercourse with God,\nand in heaven he enters upon its enjoyment. For this reason\nheaven is called our fatherland. It is our lost inheritance\nrecovered. There we ourselves shall be the sons of God, and God\nwill be our Father. Think what is the relation of an affectionate\nson to a good and wise father. What submission with\nequality--what complete sympathy and community of interest--what\nintimate communication of thought and feeling! So, O Christian\nsoul! shall it be between you and God. God will be your God, and\nyou will be His child.\n{257}\nThou shalt dwell in His home, and all that He hath shall be\nthine. \"_All things are yours, the world, or life, or death, or\nthings present, or things to come; for all are yours, and you are\nChrist's, and Christ is God's_.\" [Footnote 26]\n\n    [Footnote 26: 1 Cor. iii 23.]\n\nYes, God himself shall be yours. You shall look around you and\nsee His towering altitudes, and count them as your own. You shall\nlook deep down into the depths of His wisdom and be wise as God\nis. You shall find yourself upborne by His power and goodness,\nenveloped by His glory, and adorned with His beauty. Oh! my\nbrethren, is not this joy? Tell me, tell me, young men, tell me,\nchildren, tell me truly, one and all, what have been the happiest\nmoments of your life? Was it the moments you have spent in sin?\nWas it the hour of some earthly success or triumph? Or was it not\nrather at some hour when God was near to you, and you felt the\nmusic of His voice and the perfume of His breath--some time when\nyou were praying, or when you had made a good confession or\ncommunion, or when you were listening to a sermon? I know it was.\nI know there are times when every man has felt the words of the\nPsalmist: \"_What have I in heaven? and besides Thee what do I\ndesire upon earth? Thou art the God of my heart, and the God that\nis my portion forever._\" [Footnote 27]\n\n  [Footnote 27: Ps. lxxxii. 26.]\n\nWhat are all the attainments of learned men to Him who is\nall-wise? What are all the conceptions of genius to Him who is\nall-beautiful, or the moral excellencies of good men to Him who\nis all-holy? Yes, the thought of God is the source of the purest\nand highest pleasure on earth. That thought has ravished the\nsaints with ecstasy, and made the martyrs laugh at their\ntorments. And if merely to think about God in this life can make\nus so happy, what must it be to see Him in the life to come?\n{258}\nTo know God and to love Him, to know Him as we are known by Him,\nto love Him with our whole souls, to possess Him without the fear\nof losing Him, to take part in His counsels, to enter into His\nwill, and to share in His blessedness--this is a joy, perfect and\nsupreme; and this is the joy of heaven. This is the joy offered\nto you. This is all-satisfying. The soul can desire nothing more.\nThis is permanent, for heaven is eternal. This is always new, for\nGod is riches and beauty inexhaustible and infinite. Oh, my\nbrethren, do not envy those who were near our Lord's person when\nHe was upon earth. I know it is natural to do so. I know it is\nnatural to say, \"If I could but have seen His face, or heard the\nsound of His voice;\" but no! yours is a still happier lot. Do not\nenvy Magdalene, who kissed His feet, nor St. John, on whose\nbreast He leaned, nor the Blessed Virgin, who bore Him in her\narms. Is it not permitted to the poorest and the weakest of you\nto see Him, not in His humility, but in his glory--to converse\nwith Him and dwell with Him in the land of the living? Oh!\nblessed are they that dwell in Thy house! The world passeth away,\nand the lust thereof, but he that doeth the will of God abideth\nforever. Blessed are they that hear the Word of God and do it!\nBlessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God! One would\nhave thought that this was enough. To be free from all the trials\nand sufferings of this present life, and to enjoy the fullest\nhappiness a human soul is capable of--one would think that were\nheaven enough, and that no more could be added. But the bounty of\nGod has added another element to the happiness of heaven. Heaven\nis a place of glory--not of rest only, but of glory also. \"Glory,\nhonor and peace,\" says the apostle, \"to every man that doeth\nwell.\" Heaven is the place of God's glory, and it is also the\nplace of the glory of the saints. Even here the good are honored\n--the really good. True, for a while they may be despised and\npersecuted, but, in the long run, nothing is honored so much as\nvirtue.\n{259}\nDuring the lifetime of Nero and St. Paul, Nero was a powerful\nemperor, praised and flattered by his courtiers, and St. Paul a\nfriendless and despised prisoner; now, Nero is abhorred as the\nwicked tyrant, and St. Paul honored by all men as the saint and\nhero. But this is not enough. In heaven the honor of the saints\nwill be magnificent. God himself will honor them. This is one\nreason for the last judgement, that God may publicly give honor\nto the good. \"_Whosoever shall glorify me, him will I\nglorify_,\" says the Almighty; [Footnote 28] and they who are\nsaved will be admitted to heaven with respect and solemnity, as\nthose whom the King delights to honor.\n\n    [Footnote 28: 1 Ki. ii. 30.]\n\nThis is represented to us in the description of the last\njudgment: \"Then shall He turn to them on the right hand and say:\n'Come, ye blessed of my Father, possess the kingdom prepared for\nyou from the foundation of the world.'\" See how He praises them.\nSee how He honors them and makes kings out of them. They are\nastonished: it seems too much. They know not how they have\ndeserved it. But He insists upon it as their right. He repeats\nthe good actions they have done. \"I was hungry and ye gave me\nmeat, I was thirsty and ye gave me to drink. I was naked and ye\nclothed me.\" Do you hear this, my brethren? So will it be with\nyou when you stand before God to be judged. He will hold in His\nhand a beautiful diadem of gold, and he will say: \"This is for\nthee.\" And thou shalt be amazed and shalt say: \"No, Lord, this is\nnot for me. I am nothing but a laboring man. I am but a poor boy.\nI am only a servant-girl. I am not the child of the rich and\ngreat. No one ever made way for me in the street, or rose up when\nI came into their company.\" But Christ shall say: \"Nay! a prince\nthou art, for thou hast done the deeds of a prince.\"\n{260}\nThen He will begin to mention them one by one--your kindness to\nyour old mother and father--your humble confession that it was so\ndifficult to make, and which you made so well--the time you\novercame that great temptation, and resolved, once for all, to be\nvirtuous--the occasion of sin you renounced--the prayers you\nsaid in humility and sincerity--the sacrifices you made for your\nfaith--the true faith you kept with your husband or wife--the\npatience you practised in pain or vexation. Then He will show you\nyour throne in heaven, so bright you will think it an apostle's,\nor the Blessed Virgin Mary's, or that it belongs to God himself;\nand then the tears of joy and surprise will drop from your eyes,\nand your heart will be nigh bursting with confusion; but He will\nsmile upon you, and take you by the hand, and say: \"Yes, thou\nhast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over\nmany things.\" Then He will give thee a certain jurisdiction, a\ncertain power of intercession; make thee an assessor in His high\ncourt of heaven, and make thee to sit on a throne with Him,\njudging the twelve tribes of Israel. And others shall honor thee.\nThe saints shall honor thee. The Blessed Virgin shall honor thee.\nNow thou honorest her, so much at a distance from thee, and\ncallest her Lady; but then it shall be as it was when St. John\nand the Blessed Virgin dwelt together in one home. Thou shalt\nstill honor her as the Mother of Jesus, and she shall honor thee\nas His disciple. St. Peter and St. John and St. James and St.\nAndrew shall honor thee. Now thou makest thy litanies to them;\nbut then it will be as it was when Peter and Thomas and Nathanael\nand the sons of Zebedee were together, and Jesus came in the\nmidst and dined with them. The saints shall be one family with\nthee. They will walk with thee, and sit with thee, and call thee\nby name, and tell thee the secrets of Paradise. And the angels\nshall honor thee. Now thou addressest thy angel guardian on\nbended knee; but then he will say to thee: \"See thou do it not; I\nam thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren, who have the\ntestimony of Jesus.\" And the Church on earth shall praise thee.\nAs long as time shall last, she shall make mention of thee as one\nof those who rejoice with Christ in His glorious kingdom, and,\nclothed in white, follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth.\n{261}\nYes, and the wicked and the devils shall honor thee. Now they may\naffect to despise you--now they may persecute you and trouble\nyou; but then they will be forced to do you honor, and, groaning\nwithin themselves for anguish of spirit, and amazed at the\nsuddenness of your unexpected salvation, shall say: _These are\nthey whom we had sometime in derision, and for a parable if\nreproach. We fools esteemed their life madness and their end\nwithout honor. Behold how they are numbered among the children of\nGod, and their lot is among the saints_.\" [Footnote 29]\n\n    [Footnote 29: Wisd. v. 3, 4, 5.]\n\nSuch, my brethren, are the joys of heaven, or, rather, such is\nthe faintest and poorest idea of the joys of heaven. Men seek for\nwealth as the means of defending themselves from the ills of\nlife, but there is perfect rest only in heaven. Men seek for\npleasure, but earthly joys are short and unsatisfactory; the\npleasures at God's right hand are for ever sure. Men seek for\nhonor, but the real honor comes from God alone. And these are\nwithin the reach of each one of you. When Father Thomas of Jesus,\nwas dying in captivity, his friends came around his bedside, and\nexpressed their regret that he should die, away from his home,\nand their hope that the King of Spain would even yet ransom him;\nbut the holy man replied: \"I have a better country than Spain,\nand the ransom has long been paid. That country is heaven, that\nransom is the blood of Christ.\" The Holy Church says: \"When thou\nhadst overcome the sharpness of death, thou didst open the\nkingdom of heaven to all believers.\" Yes! by the blood of Christ,\nby the sacrament of baptism, the gates of heaven are opened\nbefore us. The path is straight and plain. If by sin we have\nstrayed from it, by penance we have been recalled to it, and now\nthere is nothing to do but to advance and persevere, and heaven\nis ours.\n{262}\nWill you draw back, Christian? Will you, by mortal sin, throw\naway that immortal crown? No drunkard or adulterer, nothing that\nis defiled, can enter there. There is only one road that leads to\nheaven--the road of Christian obedience. Will you renounce your\nbirthright? Will you, by sin, take the course that leads you away\nfrom your heavenly home? \"Oh!\" I hear you say, \"I will choose\nheaven.\" But, remember, heaven is to be won. \"Heaven,\" says St.\nPhilip Neri, \"is not for the slothful and cowardly.\" Strive then,\nhenceforth, for the rewards that are at God's right hand. Strive\nto attain abundant merits for eternity. Remember that he that\nsoweth sparingly shall reap sparingly, and he that soweth\nplentifully shall reap plentifully. God is not unmindful of your\nworks and labor that proceedeth from love. Things so small as not\nto be taken notice of, things that happen every day, add a new\nglory to our mansions in heaven. With this aim, then, let us\nhenceforth work. \"Oh, happy I,\" says St. Augustine, \"and thrice\nhappy, if, after the dissolution of the body, I shall merit to\nhear the songs that are sung in praise of the Eternal King, by\nthe inhabitants of the celestial city!\" Happy I, if I myself\nshall merit to sing those strains, and to stand before my Lord\nand King, and to see Him in His glory, as he promised! \"He that\nloveth me shall be loved by my Father, and I will love him, and\nwill manifest myself to him.\" \"How amiable are thy tabernacles,\nThou Lord of Hosts! My soul hath a desire and a longing to enter\ninto the courts of the Lord.\" Grant me this, O Lord. Give and\nwithhold what Thou wilt. I do not ask length of days. I do not\nask for earthly honor and prosperity. I do not ask to be free\nfrom care, or labor, or suffering. But this I do ask, O Lord:\nwhen this life is over, shut not up my soul in hell, but let me\nlook on Thy face in the land of the living. Make me so to pass\nthrough things temporal that I lose not the things eternal.\n{263}\nHail, Heavenly Queen! our life, our sweetness, and our hope! to\nThee do we cry, poor, exiled children of Eve. Oh, then, from Thy\nthrone in heaven, lift upon us, who are struggling in this world,\nthose merciful eyes of Thine! and when this our exile is over,\nshow us the blessed fruit of Thy womb, JESUS!\n\n\n\n  Note.--This was the last Sunday-Sermon which F. Baker preached,\n  two weeks before he was seized with his last illness.\n\n--------------------\n\n    Sermon V.\n\n    The Duty Of Growing In Christian Knowledge.\n\n\n    (First Sunday in Advent.)\n\n\n  \"The first man knew not wisdom perfectly,\n  no more shall the last find her out.\n  For her thoughts are vaster than the sea,\n  and her counsels deeper than the great ocean.\"\n    --Eccles. XXIV. 38, 39.\n\n\nI think we Catholics, when we lay claim to the possession of the\nwhole truth--the entire revelation imparted to the world from\nChrist through the apostles--sometimes forget how small a share\nof that truth each one of us possesses in particular. It is the\nChurch that the Holy Ghost leads into all truth, not individuals.\nEach Catholic, who is sufficiently instructed, knows some truth;\nhe knows what is necessary to salvation; but there are many\nthings which he is totally ignorant of, many things concerning\nwhich his conceptions are inadequate or distorted. Now if this be\nso, it cannot but be useful to remember it, and I will,\ntherefore, this morning, show you how it must be so, and some of\nthe consequences which flow from it.\n\n{264}\n\nEach one's knowledge of truth must be more or less partial and\nincomplete, because it varies with each one's capacity for\nreceiving truth. When God gave man reason, He conferred on him\nthe faculty of receiving truth; but the degree in which this or\nthat man is capable of receiving truth, depends upon the strength\nand cultivation of his particular reason. The eye is the organ of\nsight, but one man's eye is stronger and truer than another's.\nSlight variations of color or form, wholly indistinguishable by\none man, are detected in a moment by another. So, one man's\nreason is stronger than another's. What makes the difference, is,\nof course, in part the diversity in natural endowments, but it is\nnot altogether due to this cause; it is due in great measure also\nto cultivation. Moral dispositions, too, have a great deal to do\nwith it; and in the case of Christian truth, the grace of God\nalso exerts a special influence. The degrees in which these\nvarious elements are found in particular cases, are so different,\nthat there is an almost infinite gradation in the measure in\nwhich men are capable of receiving truth. No two men can receive\nit in exactly the same degree. In all this congregation, where we\nrecite the same Creed and use the same prayers, there are,\nperhaps, no two of us who mean by them precisely the same thing.\nThe intelligence of each one, his past history, his moral\ndispositions, will determine how far the faith that is in him\ncorresponds to the faith that is without him--the faith as it is\nin itself, the object of faith as it is in God. I can make what I\nmean plain to you by an illustration. Let us suppose a beautiful\npicture of the crucifixion, for instance, [is] put up in a public\ngallery. Men of every kind enter and pass before it. There comes\na man who has never heard of Christ; he is ignorant and\nuneducated. He looks up and sees the representation of extremest\nhuman agony, mingled with superhuman dignity and patience. Some\nray enters his mind; he pauses, is startled then passes on. Now\nthere comes another, who is an anatomist, and he is arrested by\nthe skill with which the body is proportioned, and the play of\nthe muscles and nerves is exhibited. Every line is a study to\nhim, and he stops a good deal longer than the first.\n{265}\nThen there comes an artist, and he sees in the picture something\ngreater even. He takes in the genius of the conception, the\nfitness of attitude and expression, the light and shade, the\ntints of color, the difficulties overcome by art; and he comes\nand sits before it, day after day, for hours, absorbed in the\nstudy of its beauties. And another comes who is a poet, and to\nhim it brings back the scene of Calvary. In a moment he is far\naway, and the sun is darkened, and the earth quakes, and there\nare thunderings and lightnings, and once more the Holy City pours\nforth its multitude to witness the death of Jesus. And then there\ncomes a sinner. Ah! that story of love and suffering! which tells\nhow God so loved the world, and gave His only-begotten Son, that\nall who believe in Him should not perish, but have everlasting\nlife. To him, that picture speaks of the horrors of sin, of\nmercy, of heaven and hell, and thoughts are awakened by it which\nlead him back to God. There hangs the picture, unaltered. It is\njust what the artist made it, neither more nor less, yet see how\ndifferent it has been to different beholders.\n\nNow, just so it is with the preaching of the truth. As we recite\nthe Creed, as we preach to you, Sunday after Sunday, the Creed\nitself is indeed unchangeable, but it is a different thing to\neach one of us who preach, and to each one of you who hear,\naccording to your intelligence, your past history, and your\npresent dispositions. How can it be otherwise? Does not the very\nword, God, mean something different to us from what it does to a\nsaint? Do not the words Presence of God, mean something different\nto you and me from what they did to St. Teresa, to whom the soul\nof man appeared as a castle with seven chambers, each one more\nsacred than the others, as you advanced into the interior, until\nthe innermost shrine was reached, where God and the soul were\njoined together in a manner which human language knows not how to\nutter?\n{266}\nDo you not see that the doctrine of the Incarnation is something\nvery different to us from what it was to St. Athanasius, who\nspent his whole life in conflict for it, who endured years of\nexile and calumny, the estrangement of friends, the suspicion\neven of good men, rather than falter the least in fidelity to\nthat verity on which his soul had fed? Or the Real Presence--is\nthat not a different thing to the crowd who come to church and\nkneel from custom, but hardly remember why, from what it was to\nSt. Thomas, who composed in honor of it the wonderful hymns\n_Pange Lingua_ and _Lauda Sion_, or to St. Francis\nXavier, who spent nights in prayer, prostrate upon the platform\nof the altar? Why, St. Thomas, who has so written of the\nChristian faith that the Church has named him the angelical\ndoctor, threw down his pen in hopelessness of being able to\nexpress the high knowledge of divine things which filled his\nsoul. And St. Paul confesses, in writing to the Hebrews, that\neven in that primitive community, taught by apostles and living\nin a perpetual call to martyrdom, there were some points of\nChristian truth which he found himself unable to utter, \"because\nyou are become weak to hear.\" [Footnote 30]\n\n    [Footnote 30: Heb. v. 11.]\n\nI know that you are Catholics, that you have the Apostles' Creed\nby heart, that you believe in one God in Three Persons, in the\nIncarnation and Death of the Second Person of the Blessed\nTrinity, and in the two eternities before us; but neither you nor\nI know what all this implies. Our knowledge is very imperfect: we\nare but babes in Christ, lisping and stammering the Divine\nalphabet--children, wetting our feet in the waves which dash on\nthe shore of the boundless ocean of truth.\n\nIt is good for us, as I have already said, to remember this, for\nit gives us at once the true method of forming an estimate of\nChristianity. A tree is known by its fruit, but it is by its best\nfruit.\n{267}\nIf you have a tree in your garden bearing only a small quantity\nof very delicious fruit, you prize it highly and take great care\nof it, though many of the blossoms fall off, and a great deal of\nthe fruit never ripens. So you must judge of the Catholic Church,\nby its best and most perfect fruit, that is, by the men of great\nwisdom and great virtue whom it produces, and not by its\nimperfect members. Who is likely to be the best exponent and the\ntruest specimen of his religion, a man of prayer and study,\ndeeply versed in the Holy Scriptures and sacred learning, or one\nof small capacity, little learning, and little prayer? Evidently,\nthe former; and yet how often do men take the contrary way of\njudging of the teaching and spirit of the Church. They visit some\nCatholic country, they see some instance of popular error,\nignorance, or disorder, and they say: \"This is Catholicity.\" Or,\nat home, they see or hear a Catholic do or say something which\ngives them offence, and they exclaim: \"That is your doctrine!\"\n\"That is your religion!\" Now, supposing the offence they take to\nbe justly taken, which is not always the case, what does it\nprove? It may prove that the rulers of the Church have not done\ntheir duty; but it may prove just the contrary, that they have\ndone their duty-that in spite of the obstacles of ignorance and\nrudeness, they have succeeded in imparting to some darkened souls\nenough knowledge to lead them to God, though it be the very least\nthat is sufficient for that purpose. But it does not show what\nthe doctrine of the Church really is as intelligently understood.\nTo find out this, you must look at men who are in the most\nfavorable circumstances for understanding it, and they are the\nsaints of God: St. Basil, St. Augustine, St. Francis of Sales,\nSt. Teresa. St. Vincent of Paul.\n\nO my brethren! how can men turn away from Catholicity? I\nunderstand how they can turn away from it as you and I express\nit; how we can fail to remove their difficulties, or even put new\nperplexity in their way. But how can they turn away from\nCatholicity as it is expressed by the great saints of the Church?\n{268 }\nWhat a divine religion! What majesty, what sweetness, what\nwisdom, what power! How it commands the homage of the world! What\na universal testimony it has in its favor, after all! Do you\nknow, my brethren, I believe men are far more in favor of\nCatholicity than we suspect. I believe half the difficulties they\nfind in our religion are not in our religion at all, but in us;\nin our ignorance, in our prejudices, in our short-sightedness and\nnarrow-heartedness. What renders the world without excuse is the\nline of saints, the true witnesses to the genius and spirit of\nthe Catholic religion. And yet, even the saints themselves are\nnot the perfect exponents of the faith, for even the saints were\nnot altogether free from ignorance and error. To understand fully\nthe nobleness of the Christian faith, we should need the help of\ninspiration itself. Did it never occur to you, my brethren, that\nthe expressions of the prophets and apostles in reference to the\nlight and grace brought by Jesus Christ into the world, were\nextravagant? \"_Behold, I will lay thy stones in order, and will\nlay thy foundations with sapphires, and I will make thy bulwarks\nof jasper: and thy gates of graven stones, and all thy borders if\ndesirable stones. All thy children shall be taught of the Lord:\nand great shall be the peace of thy children.\" \"Thou shalt no\nmore have the sun for thy light by day, neither shall the\nbrightness of the moon enlighten thee: but the Lord shall be unto\nthee for an everlasting light, and thy God for thy glory_.\"\n[Footnote 31]\n\n    [Footnote 31: Isaiah liv. 11-13; lx. 19.]\n\nDoes the Catholic Church, as you understand it, come up to these\ndescriptions? Is Catholic truth, as you appropriate it, so high\nand glorious a thing as this? No! And the reason is, that you are\nstraitened in yourselves. Your conceptions are so low, your\nknowledge of the truth is so partial and limited that you do not\nrecognize the description when the Holy Ghost presents that truth\nas it is in itself, as it is seen and known by God.\n\n{269}\n\nThis thought leads us naturally to another; namely, that it is\nthe duty of each one of us to extend his knowledge of Christian\ntruth as far as possible. There is a story told of a foreign\ngentleman visiting Rome, who went one day to St. Peter's Church,\nand, after entering the vestibule, admired its noble proportions,\nand returned home fully satisfied that he had seen the church\nitself, which he had not even entered. So it is with many persons\nwho never pass beyond the vestibule of Christian knowledge. They\nnever enter the inner temple, or catch even a glimpse of its vast\nheights and its dim distances, its receding aisles, its intricate\narchings, its glory, its richness, and its mystery. O misery of\nignorance! which has ever been the heaviest curse of our race. O\nMorning Star, harbinger of eternal truth, and Sun of Justice,\nwhen wilt thou come to enlighten those that sit in darkness and\nin the shadow of death! Alas! this is our grief, that the true\nLight is come into the world, but our eyes are holden that we\ncannot see it. Truths, the thought of which rapt the apostles\ninto ecstasy, truths which the angels desire to look into, are\npublished in our hearing, and awaken no aspiration, no stirring\nin our hearts. We go away, to eat and drink, and work, and play.\nO brethren! burst for yourselves these bonds of ignorance. Do not\nsay, I am not learned, I am not acute or profound, I cannot hope\nto understand much. Remember that there were some servants to\nwhom one talent was given, who were called to account as well as\nthose who had ten. Do what you can. A pure heart, a blameless\nlife, and prayer, are great enlighteners. Read, listen, meditate,\nobey. Ask of God to enlarge your knowledge, and to teach you what\nit means to say you believe in Him. Ask of Jesus Christ to teach\nyou what it means to say that He was made man and died for us on\nthe cross; what it is to receive His body and blood; what is the\nmeaning of heaven and hell.\n{270}\nAwake thou that sleepest, and Christ shall give thee light! He\nwill make you understand more and more what it is to be a\nChristian. Often have I seen the fulfilment of this promise. I\nhave been at the bedside of poor people, who would be called rude\nand illiterate, but to whose pure hearts and earnest prayers God\nhad imparted so clear a knowledge of the faith, that I have felt\nin their humble rooms like Jacob when he awoke from sleep and\nsaid: \"Indeed the Lord is in this place.\" [Footnote 32]\n\n    [Footnote 32: Gen. xxviii. 16.]\n\nMen are talking about a Church of the future. They say the old\nChurch is decrepid, her theology is obsolete, she stimulates\nthought no more. But we know better. The Church of the future is\nthe Church of the past. That Church is ever ancient and ever new.\nHer truth is not exhausted. Men know not the half nor the\nhundredth part of her hidden wisdom. O the victory! when men\nshall understand this--when they shall come confessing to the\nHoly Church, as the Queen of Saba did to Solomon: \"_The report\nis true, which I heard in my own country, concerning thy words\nand concerning thy wisdom. And I did not believe them that told\nme, till I came myself and saw with my own eyes, and have found\nthat the half hath not been told me; thy wisdom and thy works\nexceed the fame which I heard. Blessed are thy men, and blessed\nare thy servants who stand before thee always, and hear thy\nwisdom_.\" [Footnote 33]\n\n    [Footnote 33: III. Ki. x. 6-8.]\n\nYes! the history of the Church is not accomplished, her triumphs\nare not yet all written. Why does she, Advent after Advent,\npublish again the glowing predictions of the evangelical prophet,\nbut because she knows that they await a still more magnificent\nfulfilment? Take courage--the cloud that rests on the people\nshall be lifted off, and the burden taken away. The Ancient\nChurch \"shall no more be called forsaken, nor her land desolate.\"\n[Footnote 34]\n\n    [Footnote 34: Is. lxii. 4.]\n\n{271}\n\n\"_Arise, be enlightened, O Jerusalem: for thy light is come,\nand the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. And the Gentiles\nshall walk in thy light, and kings in the brightness of thy\nrising. Then shalt thou see and abound, and thy heart shall\nwonder and be enlarged. And the children of them that afflict\nthee shall come bowing down to thee, and all that slandered thee\nshall worship the steps of thy feet, and shall call thee the city\nof the Lord, the Sion of the Holy One of Israel_.\" [Footnote 35]\n\n    [Footnote 35: Isai. lx. 1-14.]\n\n--------------------\n\n      Sermon VI.\n\n\n  The Mission Of St. John the Baptist.\n\n    (Second Sunday In Advent.)\n\n\n  \"This is he of whom it is written:\n  Behold I send My messenger before Thy face,\n  who shall prepare Thy way before Thee.\"\n  --St. Matt. xi. 10.\n\n\nThe Scriptures of the Old Testament had foretold that a special\nmessenger should immediately precede the coming of the Messias,\nwhose duty would be to prepare men's hearts for His reception.\nNow, our Lord in the text tells us that St. John the Baptist was\nthis messenger. It is for this reason that the Gospels read in\nthe Church for the season of Advent are so full of the sayings\nand doings of this saint. In Advent the Church desires to prepare\nus for the twofold coming of Christ--at His Nativity and at the\nLast Judgment; and it is natural that she should avail herself of\nthe labors of one who was divinely appointed for the same\npurpose. Accordingly, from Sunday to Sunday, during this season,\nshe bring St. John the Baptist from his cell in the desert, clad\nin his rough garment, to preach to us Christians the same lessons\nhe preached to the Jewish people centuries ago.\n{272}\nIt has seemed to me, then, that I could not better subserve the\nintentions of the Church, than by considering this morning in\nwhat the mission of St. John the Baptist as a preparation for\nChrist's coming specially consisted, and what practical lessons\nit suggests to us.\n\nSt. John the Baptist was of the priestly race, yet he never\nexercised the office of a priest. He was not a prophet, at least\nin the sense of one who foretells future events. He worked no\nmiracles. He had no ecclesiastical position. What was he then?\nWhat was his office? How did he prepare men for the coming of\nChrist? The Scriptures tell us what he was. He was a\n\"_Voice_\" and a \"_Cry_\"--the cry of conscience, the\nvoice of man's immortal destiny. His mission was simple,\nelementary, and universal. It went deeper than ecclesiastical or\nritual duties. It touched human probation to the very quick. He\ndealt with the great question of salvation, protested vehemently\nagainst sin, and published aloud that law of sanctity which is\nwritten on every man's heart by the finger of God.\n\nWe have some remains of his sermons, from which we can learn his\nstyle. \"_Begin not to say_,\" so he speaks to the Jews,\n\"_we have Abraham to our father, for God is able to raise up of\nthese stones children to Abraham_.\" [Footnote 36]\n\n    [Footnote 36: St. Luke iii. 8.]\n\nSee, how he sweeps away external privileges, and goes straight to\nevery man's conscience. \"_The axe is laid now to the root of\nthe trees, and every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit\nshall be cut down and cast into the fire_.\" Nothing but what\nis internal, nothing but what is sound at the core, can bear the\nscrutiny. He descends to the particulars of each man's state and\ncondition of life. The people came to him and asked him, \"What\nshall we do?\" And he said: \"_He that hath two coats, let him\nimpart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat let him do\nlikewise_.\"\n{273}\nThat was a short and pithy sermon! Then the officers of the\ncustom came and asked: \"What shall _we_ do? And he answered:\n\"_Take nothing more than that which is appointed you_.\" Do\nnot rob or swindle. Do not use bribery or extortion. And the\nsoldiers asked him, saying: \"And what shall _we_ do?\" And he\nsaid: \"_Do violence to no man: neither calumniate any man; and\nbe content with your pay_.\"\n\nSuch was the preaching of St. John the Baptist, pointed, direct,\nhomely, practical: an echo of that trumpet-blast which once shook\nthe earth, when God gave the Ten Commandments out of the Mount.\nAnd it did its work. Our Lord himself has testified to the\nsuccess of St. John's mission. It prepared men to believe in\nChrist. It was the school which trained disciples for\nChristianity. They that believed in St. John believed afterwards\nin Christ. On one occasion the evangelist gives it as the\nexplanation why some believed and some rejected the words of\nJesus, that they had first believed or rejected the words of the\nBaptist. \"_All the people_,\" such is the language I refer\nto, \"_justified God, being baptized with, the baptism of John,\nbut the Pharisees and the lawyers despised the counsel of God\nagainst themselves, being not baptized of him_.\" [Footnote 37]\n\n    [Footnote 37: St. Luke vii. 29, 30.]\n\nNor is it difficult to explain how his preaching effected this\nresult. Christ came to save sinners. In point of fact, we know\nthat this is the reason why He has come into the world. He has\ncome to seek and save that which was lost. He has come to heal\nthe broken-hearted. He has come to give us a new law, higher and\nholier than the old, yet easier by the brightness of His example,\nand the graces He imparts. Now, unless a man feels the evil of\nsin, unless he wants to keep the law, unless he feels an\ninterest, and a deep interest, in the question of his destiny, he\ndoes not care for Christ.\n{274}\nTrue, our Lord has given to the understanding proofs of His\ndivine mission, so that belief in Him may be a reasonable act;\nbut until the conscience is stirred up, the understanding has no\nmotive for considering these proofs. To the carnal and careless\nJews, the announcement of Christ's coming was, I suppose, simply\nuninteresting. In some points of view, indeed, they might have\nwelcomed Him. As a temporal prince and deliverer, His advent\nwould have been hailed by them, but salvation from sin was a\nmatter in which they felt no great concern. What did they want\nwith Christ? Why does He come at all to consciences which do not\ncrave rest, and wills that need no strength? What need of a\nSaviour, if there is no sin to be shunned, no hell to be feared,\nno heaven to be won, no great struggle between good and evil, no\neternity in peril?\n\nBut once let all this be fully understood. Let a man's conscience\nbe fully awakened. Let him realize his destiny, above and beyond\nthis world; let him appreciate the evil of sin that defeats his\ndestiny; let him, if the case be so, perceive how far out of the\nway he has gone by his sins; and then how full of interest, how\nfull of meaning, becomes the exclamation of St. John, as he\npoints to Christ and says: \"_Behold the Lamb of God, that\ntaketh away the sins of the world!_\" Let a man's spiritual\nnature be stirred within him; let him aspire to what is pure and\nhigh; aim at regulating his passions; struggle, amid inordinate\ndesires and the importunities of creatures which encompass him\nlike a flood, toward the highest good and the most perfect\nbeauty; and, oh! with what music do these words of Christ fall on\nhis soul: \"_Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy\nladen, and I will refresh you. Take my yoke upon you and learn of\nMe, and you shall find rest to your souls. For My yoke is sweet,\nand My burden is light._\" [Footnote 38]\n\n    [Footnote 38: St. Matt. xi. 29, 30.]\n\n{275}\n\nIt seems too good to be true. He listens, and asks, \"May I\nbelieve this?\" \"Is there really a way through this world to\nheaven? a sure, clear, easy way?\" He finds that his understanding\nnot only allows, but compels him to believe in Christ: he is\nhappy; he believes; his faith is a conviction into which his\nwhole nature enters; it entwines itself with every fibre of his\nsoul.\n\nThe connection, then, between the preaching of the Baptist and\nthe coming of Christ was not a temporary one. It is essential and\nnecessary. St. John is still the forerunner of Christ. The\npreaching of the commandments is ever the preparation for faith.\nThe awakening of a man's conscience is the measure of his\nappreciation of Christ. Our Lord gives many graces to men without\ntheir own co-operation. Many of the gifts of Providence, and the\nfirst gifts in the order of grace, are so bestowed. But an\nenlightened appreciation of Christianity, a personal conviction\nof its truth, a real and deep attachment to it, will be always in\nproportion to the thoroughness with which a man has sounded the\ndepths of his own heart, to the sincerity with which sin is hated\nand feared, and holiness aspired after. Christ is never firmly\nseated in the soul of man till he is enthroned on the conscience.\n\"_Unto you that fear My name, shall the Sun of Justice arise,\nand health in his wings_.\" [Footnote 39]\n\n    [Footnote 39: St. Matt. iv. 2.]\n\nAnd, here, my brethren, in this law or fact which I stated, we\nhave the key to several practical questions of great importance.\n\n{276}\n\nHere we have, in great part at least, an explanation why\nconversions to the Catholic Church are not more frequent than\nthey are. Surely the Catholic Church is prominent enough in the\neyes of men. From her church towers she cries aloud. In the\nstreets, at the opening of her gates, she utters her word,\nsaying: \"_O children of men, how long will you love folly, and\nthe unwise hate knowledge? Turn ye at my reproof_.\" Her\nantiquity, her unity, her universality, the sanctity of so many\nof her children, are enough to arrest the attention of every\nthoughtful man. But how few heed her voice! True, here and there,\nthere are souls who recognise in her the true teacher sent by\nChrist, the guide of their souls, and submit themselves to her\nsafe and holy keeping. Altogether, they make a goodly company;\nbut how small in proportion to those who are left behind! It\nreminds us of the words of the prophet: \"_I will take one of a\ncity, and two of a family and bring you into Sion_.\" [Footnote 40]\n\n    [Footnote 40: Jer. iii. 14.]\n\nThey come by ones and twos, and the mass remains behind. And what\ndoes that mass think of the Catholic Church? Some are entirely\nignorant of her, almost as though she did not exist. Some have\nwrong ideas about her, and hate her. Some know a good deal about\nher doctrines, and are conversant with the proofs of them, and\nargue about them, and criticise them. Some are favorably inclined\nto her. Some patronise her. It was just so with Christ. To some\nHe was simply unknown, though He was in their midst. To some He\nwas an impostor and a blasphemer. To many He was an occasion of\ndispute, some affirming Him to be a \"good man,\" others saying,\n\"Nay, He deceiveth the people.\" To some He was an innovator on\nthe established religion, the religion of the respectable and\neducated. To others, His mysteries were an offence, and the\nseverity of His doctrine a stumbling-block. Why is this? Why is\nit always thus? Why are men so slow to be wise, and to be happy?\nI do not wish, my brethren, to give too sweeping an answer. I\nknow there is such a thing as inculpable ignorance. I believe\nthere are many on their way to the Church who are not suspected\nof it, and who, perhaps, do not suspect it themselves. I know\nthat God has His seasons of grace and providence. I know that\neach human mind is different from every other, and has its own\nlaw of working, its own way of arriving at conviction.\n{277}\nBut after all such deductions, are there not very many of whom it\nis a plain matter of fact to say that they _will_ not give\ntheir attention to this subject? They may even have conscious\ndoubts on their minds, and live and die with these unattended to,\nunresolved. It is a want of religious earnestness. Men do not\nask: \"What shall I do to be saved?\" Or at least, they do not give\nto that question their supreme attention. They do not grapple\nwith their destiny. They are indifferent to it, or hopeless about\nits solution. They let themselves float on, leaving the questions\nof the future to decide themselves as they may, and live in the\npleasures and interests of the present.\n\nOh, fatal supineness! unworthy a rational being, defeating the\nend of our creation, and entailing countless miseries here and\nhereafter. Nothing can be hoped for from the world, till it\nawakes from its lethargy of indifference. Men must be men before\nyou can make them Christians--serious, thoughtful earnest men,\nbefore you have any reason for expecting them to become\nCatholics. There is more hope of a conscientious bigot, than for\na man indifferent to his salvation. He, at least, is in earnest.\nIf his mind should become enlightened, if he should recognise the\nCatholic Church as the divinely-appointed guide to that heaven\nwhich he is seeking, there is reason to hope that he will avail\nhimself of her blessings. He will not make frivolous objections;\nhe will not stumble at the Sacrament of Confession, or catch at\nevery scandalous story of immorality on the part of a Catholic,\nor quarrel with every minute ritual arrangement; but in a better,\nhigher, nobler spirit, in that spirit of obedience which so well\nbecomes a man, in that spirit of faith, in which man's reason\nasserts most clearly its high character, by uniting itself to and\nembracing the Reason of God, when he finds that the Church is the\nguide to his immortal destiny, he \"_will come bending to her,\nand will worship the steps of her feet, and will call her the\nCity of the Lord, the Sion of the Holy One of Israel_.\"\n\n{278}\n\nAnd now, to turn our eyes within the Church, we can in the same\nway account for those dreadful apostasies from the Catholic faith\nwhich are here and there recorded in history. Mahometanism, which\nin numbers is a rival to Catholicity, possesses some of the\nfairest lands once owned by Christ. In modern times, one of the\nmost refined and enlightened nations of Christendom, in a moment\nof frenzy, threw off the faith with which her history had been so\nadorned, and professed Atheism. Now, how did these things happen?\nNot of a sudden, or all at once. Men are not changed from\nChristians into Turks or Infidels in an hour. There must have\nbeen some secret moral history, which accounts for this wonderful\nchange. And so there was. Men became lax in their conduct. The\nCatholicity they practised was not the Catholicity of Christ and\nthe Apostles. Public morals were conformed to the standard of\nheathenism rather than that of the gospel--nay, sometimes\noutraged as much the decencies of heathenism as the precepts of\nChrist. It was the old story. St. John the Baptist imprisoned by\nan adulterous king; St. John the Baptist, conspired against and\nmurdered by an ambitious queen; the head of St. John the Baptist,\neloquent and reproachful even in death, brought in to point the\njest and stimulate the revelry of a lascivious feast--this is but\na figure of the treatment which conscience has received in\nChristian courts, and at the hands of Christian princes. Morality\nand decency grew out of date, and were cast aside like\nold-fashioned garments, and the restraints of the Law of God were\nas feeble as cobwebs before the power of passion. Now, what else\ncould be the result of all this, but a disesteem of Christianity\nitself? True, it might retain some hold upon men's minds for a\ntime. The fact that it was the religion of their ancestors, the\nfact that they were baptized in it, the beauty of its ceremonies\nand architecture, the soothing influence of its ordinances, the\nservices it has rendered to civilisation, might keep it standing\nin its place for a time; but these considerations are not strong\nenough to withstand the power of hell, when it is exerted in the\nway of persecution, or a general apostasy.\n{279}\n\"_Every plant that my Heavenly Father hath not planted, shall\nbe rooted up_,\" said Christ. [Footnote 41] It must be a\nsupernatural motive that binds us to our faith. Christ and the\nLaw cannot long remain divorced. A people without conscience will\nsoon be a people without faith; and a nation of triflers only\nwaits the occasion, to become a nation of apostates.\n\n    [Footnote 41: St. Matt. xv. 13.]\n\nIt is not, then, without a special providence of God, that in\nthese later days the missionary orders of the Church have been\nmultiplied. In the sixteenth century the intellectual defence of\nthe faith was the Church's greatest need, and that was most\nsuccessfully accomplished. But there is needed something more to\nuphold the falling fabric of modern society. Men need to be\nreminded of the first principles of morality. And, therefore, a\nSt. Alphonsus appears in Naples, a St. Vincent of Paul in France;\nmissionary orders in every land go about teaching the people,\nbefore it is too late, the very first and fundamental truths--the\ndoctrine of repentance and good works. Here, in every age, and\nevery country, is the real danger to faith. We speak often of the\ndangers to faith in this country; and unquestionably we have our\nspecial trials here. Some of our children are lost by neglect.\nSome grow cold in the unfriendly atmosphere that surrounds them.\nBut the real danger to be dreaded is, that the love of the Church\nherself should grow cold; that a wide-spread demoralisation\nshould take place among ourselves; that we should forget the\nkeeping of the Ten Commandments. This, indeed, would be the\nprelude to our destruction. Practical morality makes a strong\nChurch; but let morality be forgotten, and the Church, while it\nhas a name to live, is dead.\n{280}\nAnd as a corpse long decomposed sometimes retains the human form\nuntil it is exposed to the air, when it crumbles into dust; so a\ndead Church will be blown to atoms and swept away, the first\nstrong blast that hell breathes against it.\n\nAnd, in fine, by the light of the thought which I have been\nendeavoring to present to you this morning, we see the means by\nwhich we ought to make sure our personal union with Christ.\nChrist is coming. He is coming at Christmas to unite Himself with\nthose whom He shall find prepared. He is coming again, and the\nmountains shall melt before Him; for He is coming to judge the\nworld. \"_Who shall stand to see Him? For He shall be as a\nRefining Fire, and shall try the Sons of Levi as gold and\nsilver_.\" [Footnote 42]\n\n    [Footnote 42: St. Matt. iii. 2, 3.]\n\nHow shall we abide His coming, my brethren I how shall we prepare\nto meet Him? I know no other way than that which St. John the\nBaptist recommended to the Jews--a true and solid conversion.\nWhether a man has committed mortal sin or not, whether he is born\na Catholic or not, there comes upon him, if he is a true\nChristian, some time in his life, a change which Catholic writers\ncall conversion. It may not be sudden. It may be all but\nimperceptible. It may be more than once. But at least once, there\ncomes a time when religion becomes a matter of personal\nconviction with him. He is different from what he was before. A\nchange has passed over him. He has awakened to his moral\naccountability. His manhood is developed. His conscience is\naroused. And until that happens, you cannot count on him. He may\nseem innocent and pious, but you cannot tell whether it will not\nbe \"like the dew that passeth away in the morning.\" You cannot\nsay how he will act in temptation. You cannot reckon on what he\nwill be next year. Perhaps then he will draw sin \"as with a\ncart-rope.\"\n{281}\nThe trouble with such men is not that they sin sometimes. Alas!\nsuch is human frailty that a single fall would not dishearten us;\nbut the real misery is, that they have no _principle_ of not\nsinning. They are not preparing for Christ's judgement. Their\ncontrition, such as it is, is intended to prepare them for\nconfession, not for eternity. See, then, what we want!\n\nAnd this is what I understand by the _penance_ which St.\nJohn the Baptist preached. He practised it himself. It is thought\nthat in St. John's case the use of reason was granted before\nbirth; and when as a babe he leaped in his mother's womb, it was\nfor conscious joy at the presence of his Lord and Saviour. And\nsince the Blessed Virgin and St. Elizabeth were cousins,\ndoubtless St. John and our Blessed Saviour knew each other as\nchildren. It is more than probable that they used to play\ntogether when they were boys, as the painters loved to represent\nthem. And oh! what an effect did the knowledge of Christ have on\nSt. John! It took the color out of earthly beauty, and the music\nout of earthly joy. There was with him afterward one overpowering\ndesire--the desire of sanctity. He had seen a vision of heaven.\nNot because he despised the world, but because a higher beauty\nwas opened to his soul, he went into the desert, and his meat was\nlocusts and wild honey. One aim he had: to purify his heart. One\nthought: to prepare for heaven, and to help others also to\nprepare.\n\nOh, let us heed his words and example. Let us follow him, if not\nin the rigor of his fastings, at least in the sincerity of his\npenance. Be converted, and turn to the Lord your God. There is no\nother way of preparing for judgment. Remember what the Church\nsays to you at the Font: \"If thou wilt enter into life, keep the\ncommandments.\" Listen to what God Himself counsels, when\nprophesying the terrors of the last day: \"_Remember the law of\nMoses, My servant, which I commanded him in Horeb for all Israel,\nthe precepts and judgments_.\" [Footnote 43]\n\n    [Footnote 43: St. Matt. iv. 4.]\n\n{282}\n\nThe law commanded in Horeb--that eternal law of right, and\njustice, and purity, and truth--examine yourself by this\nstandard; forsake every evil way and live a Christian life. Happy\nare they who do so! Happy and secure shall they be in the evil\ntime. When the earth and heaven shall be shaken, and sea and land\ngive up their dead, and the Son of Man appear in the heavens, and\nthe Throne shall be set for judgment, then look up and lift up\nyour head, for your redemption draweth nigh. You have been true\nto your conscience; you have believed in Christ; you have kept\nHis law; now to you belongs the promise, \"_Then they that\nfeared the Lord spoke every man with his neighbor, and the Lord\ngave ear, and heard it: and a book of remembrance was written\nbefore the Lord for them that fear the Lord, and think on His\nName. And they shall be My special possession, saith the Lord of\nHosts, in the day that I do judgment: and I will spare them as a\nman spareth his own son that serveth him_.\" [Footnote 44]\n\n    [Footnote 44: St. Matt. iii. 16, 17.]\n\n----------------------\n\n         Sermon VII.\n\n\n   God's Desire To Be Loved.\n\n      (Christmas Day.)\n\n\n  \"Thou art beautiful above the sons of men:\n  grace is poured abroad in Thy lips;\n  therefore hath God blessed Thee forever.\n  Gird Thy sword upon Thy thigh, O Thou most mighty.\n  With Thy comeliness and Thy beauty,\n  set out, proceed prosperously and reign.\"\n  --Ps. xliv. 3-5.\n\n\nThe Church calls on us to-day to rejoice and be glad for the\nIncarnation of the Son of God. With a celebration peculiar to\nthis Feast, she breaks the dead silence of the night with her\nfirst Mass of joy.\n{283}\nShe repeats it again as the east reddens with the dawn. And still\nagain, when the sun is shining in full day, she offers anew a\nMass of thanksgiving for a blessing which can never be\nsufficiently praised and magnified. I have thought that I could\nnot better attune your hearts to all this gladness and gratitude\nthan by reminding you of one of the motives of the Incarnation.\nWhy did our Lord become man? and why did He become Man in the way\nHe did? I answer, out of His desire to be loved by us. There is a\nlove of benevolence, which is content simply with doing good\nwithout asking a return. God has this love for us. Nature and\nreason tell us so. \"_He maketh His sun to rise on the good and\nthe bad, and raineth upon the just and the unjust_.\" [Footnote 45]\n\n    [Footnote 45: St. Matt. v. 45.]\n\nAnd there is another love, the love of friendship, which seeks to\nbe united to the object of its love. And the Incarnation shows us\nthat God has this kind of love for man. His love makes us lovable\nin His eyes, and this again makes Him vehemently desire our love.\nThis will be my subject this morning--the Incarnation, an\nevidence of God's desire to be loved by us.\n\nAnd, first, observe, that there is no other reason given for the\nIncarnation which sufficiently accounts for it in all its\ncircumstances. There are several reasons for the Incarnation. It\nis the doctrine of many Catholic theologians that God would have\nbecome man even if man had never sinned; that it was part of His\noriginal plan in forming the creature thus to unite it to\nHimself. Again, it is said that our Lord became Man in order to\nmake satisfaction for sin. And a third reason alleged for His\nbecoming man, is, that He might give us a perfect example. Now\nall these reasons are true: but neither of them alone, nor all of\nthem together, entirely account for the Incarnation with all its\ncircumstances. Not the first, for even if God had predetermined\nthat His Son should become Man, irrespective of man's\ntransgression, certainly in that case He would not have come poor\nand sorrowful, as He did.\n{284}\nThe necessity of a satisfaction for sin accounts indeed for our\nLord's sufferings in part, but not altogether; for He suffered\nfar more than was necessary. Besides, it was not necessary for a\nDivine Person to have suffered for us unless it had pleased God\nto require a perfect satisfaction, which He was free to demand or\ndispense with. The desire to give a good example may be suggested\nas the explanation of our Lord's humiliation; but when we\nconsider a moment, we will see that though a good man really does\ngive a good example, he does very few, if any of his actions, for\nthe mere sake of giving it. There are many things, then, in our\nLord's becoming Man, and His life as Man, that need some further\nreason. What is that reason? It is His great desire to be loved\nby us. Suppose this, and every thing is clear. I do not mean to\nsay that this account of our Lord's Incarnation makes it any less\nwonderful--it makes it more so--but it gives a motive for it\nall. Suppose Him influenced by an intense desire to gain our\nlove, and then we see why He stooped so low, why He did so much\nmore than was necessary, why he was so lavish in\ncondescension--in a word, this is the explanation of what would\notherwise seem to be the _excess_ of His love.\n\nThen, again, let us consider how our Lord's Incarnation is\nadapted to win our love. When we see means perfectly adapted to\nan end, we are apt to conclude that they were chosen in view of\nthat end. Now, our Lord's humiliation is in all its parts\nwonderfully calculated to attract love.\n\nHis taking our nature is especially so. There is a wonderful\npower in blood. To be of kin is a tie that survives all changes\nand all times. Now, here our Lord makes Himself of kin to us, of\nthe same blood. He is no stranger, before whom we need feel at a\ngreat distance, but our relation, of our flesh and blood.\n\n{285}\n\nAnd then as Man, He has clothed Himself with every thing that can\nmake Him attractive in the eyes of man. He makes His first\nappearance in the world as an Infant, a beautiful Babe. How\nattractive is a beautiful child! Men even of rugged natures are\nsoftened by looking at it. A little child brings a flood of grace\nand light into a house. Now, to-day, the Son of God is a Babe at\nBethlehem. He has the beauty of infancy, but there is also a\nsuperadded beauty, a light playing on His features that is not of\nearth, the light of Infinite Wisdom and Eternal Love. See, He\nlooks around and smiles, and stretches out His hands, as if\ninviting us to caress Him.\n\nIn many children this beauty of infancy is evanescent, but in our\nLord it was the earnest of a grace and loveliness that followed\nHim through life. It is evident that there was something most\nattractive about our Lord to those who approached Him. As He grew\nin stature He increased in favor, not only with God but with men.\nWhen He had attained to manhood, He was such a one that children\nwillingly gathered around Him in the streets, and people stopped\nto look at Him as He passed, and men's  minds were strangely\nstirred in them as He spoke, and the thought came into women's\nhearts, \"How happy to be the mother of such a Son!\" Who but He\nknew how perfectly to mingle dignity with familiarity, zeal with\nserenity, and austerity with compassion? Even at the distance of\ntime that we are from His earthly life, His words reach us like\nthe sweetest music. What other preacher can say the same words\nagain and again, and never make us weary? Whose tones are there\nthat linger in our ears like His, and come like a spell to our\nhearts in times of temptation and sorrow? Why, even scoffers have\nacknowledged this. The beauty and excellence of our Saviour's\ncharacter have wrung a eulogium from a celebrated opponent of\nChristianity, and at least a momentary confession that its author\nwas Divine.\n\n{286}\n\nThen, to the attractions of His character, our Lord has added the\ndestitution of His circumstances, in order to gain our love. It\nis natural for us to love any thing that is dependent on us. The\nsick child that needs to be nursed, the helpless and depressed,\nthe poor that appeal to us, even the bird and the dog that look\nto us for their food, come to have a place in our hearts. Now,\nour Lord, at least even in this way to win us, has placed Himself\nin a state of complete dependence on us. From the cradle to the\ngrave, and even beyond the grave, He appeals to man for the\nsupply of every want.\n\nThink what it might have been. Think of the twelve legions of\nangels that are impatient to come and minister to Him. But no! He\nrestrains them. For his swathing-bands, He will be a debtor to\nMary's care. For a habitation, He will put up with the stall of\nthe ox and the ass. The manger from which the cattle are fed\nshall be His cradle. St. Joseph shall bear the expenses of his\nearly years; and when St. Joseph is gone, and He has begun His\nministry of preaching, Joanna and the other holy women shall\nminister to Him of their substance. And at last, Magdalene shall\nanoint His body for burial, and Joseph of Arimathea shall give\nHim a winding-sheet and a grave.\n\nI said He carried His poverty beyond the grave. And so He does.\nFor His churches, for the glory of His altars, for His priests,\nfor His sacraments, even for the bread and wine which shall serve\nas veils for His presence, He depends on us, that out of love we\nmay minister to Him, and by ministering may love Him better.\n\nAnd, further: while on the one hand our Lord thus appeals to our\naffections by the poverty of His condition, on the other He\ncompels our love by the greatness of His sacrifices for us. In\nHis Sermon on the Mount, He bids us, \"If any man force us to go\nwith him a mile, to go with him other two;\" [Footnote 46] and\ncertainly it has been by this rule that He has acted toward us.\n\n    [Footnote 46: St. Matt. v. 41.]\n\n{287}\n\nI have already said our Lord has done far more than was necessary\nto redeem us. Why, in strictness of justice, He had ransomed us\nbefore He was born. The very first act of love He made to His\nFather, after His conception, was enough to redeem countless\nworlds. But He did not then go back to His Father. He staid on\nearth to do more for us. He would not leave any thing undone that\ncould be done. He would not leave a single member of His body, a\nsingle power of His soul, that was not turned into a sacrifice\nfor us.\n\nNo doubt, if, at the birth of any child, we could foresee all it\nwould have to suffer during its life, there would be enough to\nmingle sadness with our joy. But this child was preeminently a\nchild of sorrow; and Simeon, when he took Him up in his arms,\nforesaw that the sad future would break His mother's heart. Yes,\nthat little Child is the willing victim of our sins. On that\nlittle head the crown of thorns shall be placed. Those tiny hands\nshall be pierced with nails. Those eyes shall weep. Those ears\nshall be filled with reproach and blasphemy. That smooth cheek be\nspit upon. That mouth be filled with vinegar and gall. And why\nwas all this? He Himself has told us: \"And I, if I be lifted up\nfrom the earth, will draw all things to Myself:\" [Footnote 47]\nThat was the hope that urged Him on. That was the key to His\nwhole life. It was all an effort, a struggle, to gain our love.\n\n    [Footnote 47: St. John xii. 32.]\n\nAnd, once more: the _effect_ of the Incarnation has been\nlove. We read God's purposes in their fulfilment. We see what our\nLord intended in His humiliation, by looking at what it has\nproduced. There is no doubt that the love of God has been far\nmore general among men, and far more tender, since the\nIncarnation.\n{288}\nOnly compare St. Antony of Padua, fondling the Infant Jesus, with\nElias, covering his face with his mantle before the Lord in the\ncave at Horeb. Compare the book of Job with the epistles of St.\nPaul or St. John. God is in both books; but the Prophet sees Him\nthrough a glass darkly: the Apostles \"have seen and handled the\nWord of Life.\" One of the most beautiful passages in the Old\nTestament, and one which approaches the nearest to the New, is\nthe history of the martyrdom of the seven sons with their Mother\nin the time of Judas Machab\u00e6us. But how this story pales before\nthe Acts of the Christian Martyrs! In these Jewish heroes we see,\nindeed, faith in God, and remembrance of His promises, and hope\nin the Resurrection; but how different is this from the glowing\nlanguage of an Ignatius, who claimed to carry Christ within him;\nor of an Agnes, who claimed to be the Spouse of Christ, whom He\nhad betrothed with a ring, and adorned with bridal jewels!\n\nNor is it only in highly spiritual people, or highly gifted\npeople of any kind, that we see this Christian, personal love of\nGod. The poor, the dull, the ignorant cannot understand the\nabstract arguments about God, but they can understand a crucifix,\nthey know the meaning of Bethlehem and Calvary. And many an old\nwoman, who knows little more, has learned enough to make her\nhappy, in the thought that \"_God so loved the world as to give\nHis only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him may not\nperish, but may have life everlasting_.\" [Footnote 48]\n\n    [Footnote 48: St. John iii. 16.]\n\nThen there are children; some people complain that they find it\nvery hard to interest them in religion. I will tell you how to\nsucceed. Tell them the story of Joseph and Mary, and the Babe\nlying in a manger. Tell them about the shepherds that were\nwatching their flocks by night, and the angels that came and\ntalked to them.\n{289}\nTell them about the garden in which Jesus was betrayed, and the\ncross on which he died, and you will see their little eyes open\nwide with interest. I knew a boy who, when he read the story of\nPeter's denial of our Lord, got up from his seat, and, with tears\nin his eyes, exclaimed, \"Oh, mother, what made Peter do that!\"\nAnd I have heard of a little boy who, when he was dying, called\nhis mother to his side, and told her that he had kept all the\nmoney she had given him, in a little box, and when he was dead he\nwanted her to take it and buy a coat for the Infant Jesus. I know\nit was a strange, childish conceit; but it showed that our\nSaviour had found His way to that little boy's heart; and sure I\nam that when, in Paradise, he stood before the bright throne of\nChrist, and heard from those divine lips the praise of his short\nlife, that legacy was not forgotten.\n\nYes; our Lord has found out the way to win hearts. He has\nsucceeded. The issue proves the wisdom of his plan. As heaven\nfills up with saints flaming with love, He says, \"Whence are\nthese? and who hath begotten them?\" Then He remembers that they\nare the fruit of the travail of His soul, that they were born to\nHim at Bethlehem and Calvary, and He \"is satisfied.\"\n\nThe truth is, we are not so sensible of this effect of the\nIncarnation, because we are so familiar with it. We hardly\nrealize how meagre men's notions about God naturally are. Of\ncourse, we know by reason the existence of God, and many of His\nattributes; but without revelation, these are very indistinct. We\nknow that He is great and good and beautiful; but still there is\na gulf between us and Him. Partly, no doubt, this arises from our\nsense of guilt. We fear God, because we have offended Him. But\nthere is a dread of God, and a sense of distance from Him, that\ndoes not come from guilt. The most innocent feel it the keenest.\nI know not why, but we dread Him because He is so spiritual. He\nis so strange and mysterious.\n{290}\nWe cannot think what He is like. We lose ourselves when we try to\nthink of Him. There are so many things in the world that frighten\nus. We do not know how God feels toward us. We have a diffidence\nin approaching Him which we cannot shake off. Now, all the while,\nGod is full of the most wonderful love to man. Heaven is not\nenough for Him. Even with the angels, it is a wilderness because\nman is absent. At last He resolves what He will do. He will lay\naside altogether that majesty which affrights man so much. \"The\ndistance is too great,\" He says, \"between Me and My creatures. I\nMyself will become a creature. Man flies from Me. I will become\nMan. Every thing loves its kind. I will make Myself like him. 'I\nwill draw him with the cords of Adam, with the bands of love.'\n[Footnote 49]\n\n  [Footnote 49: Osee xi. 4.]\n\nI will tell him how the case stands--that I love him and desire\nhis love. I will tell him to love Me, not for his sake, but Mine;\nand when I have made him understand this--when I have gained his\nlove; when I have healed his wound and made him happy--then I\nwill come back, and call on all the angels of heaven, and say,\n'Rejoice with Me, for I have found the sheep that I had lost.'\"\n\nSuch is the enterprise that our Lord enters on to-day. He comes\nto tell you how He loves you, and how He desires your love.\n\"Behold, I bring to you glad tidings of great joy, and this shall\nbe the sign to you: you shall find the Infant wrapped in\nswaddling-clothes, and laid in a manger.\" It is a sign of\nHumanity. It is a sign of Beauty. It is a sign of Humility. It is\na sign of Love. He speaks to you, not in words, but in actions.\nThe cold wind whistles in His cavern, but He will not have it\notherwise. David said: \"_I will not enter into the tabernacle\nof my home: I will not go up into my bed. I will not give sleep\nto my eyes, or slumber to my eyelids, or rest to my temples,\nuntil I find out a place for the Lord, a tabernacle for the God\nof Jacob_.\" [Footnote 50]\n\n    [Footnote 50: Isai. cxxxi. 3-5.]\n\n{291}\n\nSo the new-born Saviour will not take any comfort till He has got\nyour love. He is waiting in the manger, and until you come and\ntake Him home, He will accept no other. The palaces of the world,\nand all the jewels and the gold are His, but He will have none of\nthem. He wants to abide in your lowly house, and in your poor\nheart. His head is full of dew, and His locks of the drops of the\nnight, and He knocks for you to open to Him. Oh, to-day, I do not\nenvy those who will not receive Him. I do not envy those who are\nwandering about in error, and know not the true Bethlehem, the\n_House of Bread_, the Holy Church of God. I do not envy the\ndisobedient Christian. I do not envy the indifferent man, for\nwhom Christ is born in vain. But I praise those who make it their\nfirst care to keep themselves united to Jesus Christ. And most of\nall, I praise those who strive to maintain a holy familiarity\nwith Jesus Christ; who by prayer, by communion, by self-denial,\nby generous obedience, return their Saviour love for love.\n\nO my brethren, why do we grovel on earth, when we might have our\nconversation in heaven? Why do we set our hearts on creatures,\nwhen we might have the Creator for our friend? Why do we follow\nthe Evil One, when He that is beautiful above the sons of men is\nour Master and our Lord? Why are we so weak in temptation, so\ndespairing in trial, when we might have the peace and joy of the\nchildren of God? What more can we want? God has given us the\nOnly-begotten Son, the Mighty God, the Wonderful Counsellor, the\nPrince of Peace; and how shall He not with Him freely give us all\nthings? All we want is to recognize our happiness. When Jacob\nwoke from sleep, he said: \"The Lord is in this place, and I knew\nit not.\" So we do not realize how near God is to us. What is the\nsound that reaches us to-day? It is the voice of the Beloved,\ncalling to us: \"My love, My spouse, My undefiled!\" Yes, my Lord,\nI answer to Thy call. I enter to-day into the school of Thy Holy\nLove.\n{292 }\nI make now the resolution that \"_henceforth neither life nor\ndeath, nor height nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able\nto separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our\nLord_.\" [Footnote 51]\n\n    [Footnote 51: Romans viii. 39.]\n\n----------------------\n\n\n    Sermon VIII.\n\n\n    The Failure And Success Of The Gospel.\n\n\n    (Sexagesima.)\n\n\n    \"Saying these things he cried out:\n    He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.\"\n    St. Luke  VIII. 8.\n\n\nThere is one measure by which, if our Lord's work were tried, it\nmight be pronounced a failure; and that is by the measure of\ngreat immediate, visible results. The thought might come into our\nmind, that it is strange our Lord was not more successful than He\nwas. He was the Son of God, no one ever spake as He did. He\nconversed with a great number of men--in Jerusalem, in Judea, in\nGalilee. He was always going about from place to place. He died\nin the sight of a whole city. Yet what was the result of all? On\nthe Day of Pentecost, His disciples were gathered together in the\nupper chamber, and they numbered, all told, one hundred and\ntwenty. So it is, likewise, with the Church. After all, what has\nshe done? Put her numbers at the highest. Say she has two hundred\nmillions of souls in her communion. What are they to the eight\nhundred millions that inhabit the globe. [Footnote 52]\n\n    [Footnote 52: Recent estimates of the population of the globe\n    vary from 840,000,000, to 1,300,000,000, and of the number\n    of Catholics from 160,000,000 to 208,000,000.\n    Other Christians are about 130,000,000.]\n\n{293}\n\nAnd how many of her members are there who can be called Catholics\nor Christians, only in a broad, external sense! Has Christianity,\nthen, accomplished the results that might have been looked for?\nIs it not a failure?\n\nI will attempt this morning to give some reasons showing that\nChristianity is not a failure, although it has accomplished only\npartial results. And the first remark I make is this: that\npartial results belong to every thing human. Although\nChristianity is a divine religion, by coming into the world it\nbecame subject in many respects to the laws that govern human\nthings. To specify one, Christianity demands _attention_.\n\"He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.\" Without attention,\nChristianity will never produce its impression on our conduct.\nNow, attention is a thing hard to get from men. It is one of the\ngreatest wants in the world, the want of attention. \"_With\ndesolation is all the land made desolate_,\" says the Holy\nScripture, \"_because there is none that considereth in the\nheart_.\" [Footnote 53]\n\n  [Footnote 53: Jer. xii. 11.]\n\nWe see examples of this on every side. Take the instance of young\nmen at college. After passing several years there, at a\nconsiderable expense to their parents, professedly for the sake\nof acquiring an education, a certain number of them know nothing\nbut the names of the things they have been studying. This is the\nentire result of all they have heard or read, an acquisition of\nsome of the terms made use of in science. Others have gained some\nconfused and partial knowledge, which for practical purposes is\nall but useless; while those who have acquired precise, accurate,\nuseful information, that is, who have gained any real science,\nare few indeed. It is the same in business. Every trade and\nprofession is crowded with bunglers who do not know their own\nbusiness, because they have been too lazy to learn it, and who\ngrumble at the success of others who have not spared the pains\nnecessary to become masters.\n\n{294}\n\nSo also it is in politics. We hear a great deal about the general\ndiffusion of intelligence in this country, and are told how the\nsovereign people watch the actions of public men and call them to\naccount. Now, I suppose there is more wide-spread information on\npublic matters in this country than in any other in the world,\nbut what does it amount to after all? A great many read the\nnewspapers without passing any independent judgment on their\nstatements, while those who really shape political opinions and\naction are but a small clique in each locality.\n\nThis being so, it ought not to surprise us that men give but\nlittle attention to religion. If learning, business, politics,\nthings that touch our present interests so closely, can only to a\nsuperficial extent engage the thoughts of men, will religion,\nwhich relates chiefly to man's future welfare, be more\nsuccessful? In one sense, Christianity is as old as the world;\nfor there has been a continuous testimony to the truth from the\nfirst, but it has never yet had a full hearing. How do men act\nabout religion? Some listen to its teaching only with their ears,\nas a busy man in his office listens to a jew's-harp or a\nband-organ on the street. So Gallio listened, who \"cared for none\nof these things.\" Some listen with their hearts, that is, with\nattention enough to awaken a passing emotion or sentiment. So\nFelix listened, when he trembled at St. Paul's preaching, and\npromised to hear him again at a more convenient season. Only a\nfew listen with attentive ears and hearts and hands, the only\ntrue way of listening, the way St. Paul listened, when he said,\n\"_Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?_\" [Footnote 54]\n\n    [Footnote 54: Acts ix. 6.]\n\nWhen you say, then, that Christianity has produced but partial\nresults, you are but saying that men are frivolous and\nthoughtless, that there are many who do not listen to religion,\nor do not listen to it with earnestness and lay to heart its\npractical lessons. \"_Wisdom preacheth abroad; she uttereth her\nvoice in the streets; at the head of multitudes she crieth\nout;_\" but it is of no avail to the greater number,\n\"_because they have hated instruction, and received not the\nfear if the Lord_.\" [Footnote 55]\n\n    [Footnote 55: Proverbs i. 20, 21, 29]\n\n{295}\n\nMoreover, our Lord foresaw that the success of His gospel would\nbe but partial. We see this in the very passage from which the\ntext is taken. There is something melancholy in the way the\nevangelist introduces the parable of the sower: \"_And when a\nvery great multitude was gathered together and hastened out of\nthe cities to Him, He spoke by a similitude: A sower went out to\nsow his seed_,\" etc. This was the thought which the sight of a\nvery great multitude pressing around Him awoke in the mind of our\nLord: how small a part would really give heed to His words, or\nreally appreciate them: how in some hearts the word would be\ntrodden down, in others be choked or wither away; and this is the\nsecret of the energy with which He cried out at the end of the\nparable, \"_He that hath ears to hear, let him hear_.\" The\nsame thought comes out in the conversation which he had afterward\nwith His disciples, when they asked an explanation of the\nparable: \"_The heart of this people is grown gross; and with\ntheir ears they have been dull of hearing, and their eyes they\nhave shut: lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and\nhear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and should\nbe converted, and I should heal them. But blessed are your eyes\nbecause they see, and your ears because they hear_.\" [Footnote\n56]\n\n    [Footnote 56: St. Matt. xiii. 15, 16.]\n\nOur Lord was as far as possible, then, from expecting that the\ncourse of things would stand still, and all men comply instantly\nwith his preaching. Nor were His predictions respecting His\nChurch such as to warrant more sanguine expectations of her\nsuccess.\n{296}\nIn His charge to His disciples, He let them know what they were\nto expect: \"_When you come into a house salute it, saying:\nPeace be to this house. And if that house be worthy, your peace\nshall come upon it; but if it be not worthy, your peace shall\nreturn to you. And when they shall persecute you in this city,\nflee into another_.\" [Footnote 57]\n\n    [Footnote 57: St. Matt. x. 12, 13, 23.]\n\nNor were their trials to be altogether external. \"_And then\nshall many be scandalised, and shall betray one another, and\nshall hate one another. And because iniquity hath abounded, the\ncharity of many shall wax cold_.\" [Footnote 58]\n\n    [Footnote 58: Ib. xxiv. 10, 12.]\n\nWhen, then, you say, See! in that country the Church has all but\ndied out; in that country faith is weak, and the most active\nminds in it are estranged from religion; in that country scandals\nabound; in that country there was a great apostasy; that other\nwas fruitful in heresies:--I reply, you are only verifying our\nLord's predictions; you are only saying what He said before the\nevent. If religion has not accomplished all that could be\ndesired, it has at least done what it promised.\n\nNor is this all. Not only did our Lord foresee that many would\nreject His grace, but He acquiesced in it. His work is not a\nfailure, because He does not account it so. What though many\nrefuse to listen? They that will be saved, those of good will and\nhonest hearts, they will be saved, and that is enough. He saw of\nthe travail of His soul, and was satisfied. Our Lord shed His\nblood for all men; He willed seriously the salvation of all men;\nbut since all will not be saved, He is content to give it for\nthose who will. He \"is the Saviour of all men, _especially of\nthe faithful_.\" [Footnote 59]\n\n    [Footnote 59: 1 Tim. iv. 10.]\n\nWhen He came to Jerusalem to die, looking at the city, He wept to\nthink how many were there who knew not the time of their\nvisitation; but that did not deter Him from marching on to Mount\nCalvary. When He foretold to St. Peter, before His passion, all\nHe was about to suffer, St. Peter, with mistaken affection,\nbegged Him to spare Himself. \"Far be this from Thee.\"\n{297}\nHow much more would he have dissuaded our Lord, if he could have\nforeseen in how many cases these labors and sufferings would have\nbeen fruitless. Would he not have said to Him, \"O Lord! do not\nsuffer so much, turn away thy face from the smiter, and thy mouth\nfrom gall. Do not crush Thy heart with cruel grief, or bathe Thy\nbody in a sweat of agony. The very men for whom Thou diest will\ndisbelieve Thee, or, believing, will disobey Thee.\n\nCan we doubt to what effect our Saviour would have answered? \"If\nI be lifted up I will draw all men to Me, and all will not resist\nMe. I shall see of the travail of My soul, and shall be\nsatisfied.\"\n\nOr I can imagine that at the Last Supper, as our Lord was about\nto institute the Blessed Sacrament of His body and blood, the\nsame warm-hearted disciple laying his hand on his Master's arm,\nmight have said, \"Do not do it! Thou thinkest they cannot\nwithstand this proof of love. But, alas! they will pass by\nunheeding. Thou wilt remain on the altars of Thy churches night\nand day, but the multitude will not know Thee, or ask after Thee,\nand they that do know Thee will insult Thee in Thy very gifts,\nwill treat Thee with disrespect, and receive Thee with dishonor.\"\nBut our Lord gently disregards his remonstrance, and having loved\nHis own who were in the world, loves them to the end, and for\nthem is contented to make Himself a perpetual prisoner of love.\nOh, my brethren, our statistics and our arithmetic are sadly at\nfault when we are dealing with divine things. When Abraham went\nto plead with Almighty God to spare Sodom, he began by asking as\na great matter that the city might be spared if fifty just men\nwere found in it, and the answer was prompt and free, \"I will not\ndo it for fifty's sake.\" Somewhat emboldened, he came down by\ndegrees to ten, and received the same answer, but stopped there,\nthinking that he could make no further demand on the mercy of\nGod. It is a thing we will never understand, how much God has the\nheart of a father.\n{298}\nWhen news was brought to the patriarch Jacob, that Joseph, his\nson, was yet living, all his woes and hardships were forgotten in\na moment, and he said: It is enough. Joseph, my son, is yet\nalive.\" So, all the unkindness, disobedience, unbelief of men,\nare compensated to the heart of Christ by the fervor of His true\nchildren, His servants whom He hath chosen, His elect in whom His\nsoul delighteth. Weary on the cross, His fainting eye sees their\nfidelity and their love, and His heart revives, and He says: \"It\nis enough.\" Christ accounts the fruits of His redemption great,\nand they are great. This is our temptation, to undervalue the\ngood that is in the world. Evil is so obtrusive, that we are but\ntoo apt to attribute to it a larger share in the world than it\nreally holds. How much of good, then, has been and is in the\nworld?  The Blessed Virgin, the Queen of Heaven, the perfect\nfruit of Christ's redemption, once walked the earth, engaged in\nlowly, every-day duties, like any maid or mother among us. Moses\nand Elias and St. John the Baptist once lived our life here on\nthe earth; and the hundred and forty-four thousand who sing a new\nsong before the throne of God, and the great multitude that no\nman can number out of all people and kindreds and tribes and\ntongues, clothed in white and with palms in their hands. You talk\nof failure! Why has not the sound of the gospel gone into all\nlands, and its words to the end of the world? Have not empires\nowned its sway, and kings come bending to seek its blessings?\nHave not millions of martyrs loved it better than their lives?\nHas not the solitary place been made glad by the hymns of its\nanchorites, and the desert blossomed like a rose under their\ntoil? Is there a profession, or trade, or court, or country which\nhas not been sanctified by moral heroes who drew in their holy\ninspirations from its lessons? And who can tell us the amount of\ngoodness in every-day life, to some extent necessarily hidden,\nbut of which we catch such unearthly glimpses, and which is the\npractical fruit of its principles?\n{299}\nThe virtuous families, the upright transactions, the glorious\nsacrifices, the noble charities, the restraint of passion, the\ninterior purity, the patient perseverance! Listen to the\ndescription which God Himself gives of the results of the gospel:\n\n\"_Who are these, that fly as clouds, and as doves to their\nwindows? For the islands wait for me, and the ships of the sea in\nthe beginning; that I may bring thy sons from afar; their silver\nand their gold with them, to the name of the Lord thy God, and to\nthe Holy One of Israel, because He hath glorified thee. Iniquity\nshall no more be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction in\nthy borders; and salvation shall possess thy walls, and praise\nthy gates. Thy sun shall go down no more, and thy moon shall not\ndecrease: for the Lord shall be unto thee for an everlasting\nlight, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended. And thy\npeople shall be all just; they shall inherit the land forever,\nthe branch of my planting, the work if my hand, to glorify me.\nThe least shall become a thousand, and a little one a most strong\nnation. I, the Lord, will suddenly do this thing in its\ntime_.\" [Footnote 60]\n\n    [Footnote 60: Isai. lx. 8, 9, 18, 20, 21. 22.]\n\nNow, this is the Catholic Church, as God saw it in the future,\nand as He sees it now. These beautiful words are true in their\nmeasure, of every diocese, of every parish, in our day. To-day,\nas the Holy Church throughout the world flings open her doors and\nrings her bells, and the crowd press in, in cities, in villages,\nin country places, God recognizes thousands of his true\nworshippers, who worship Him in spirit and in truth. We see and\nknow some of them, but only His all-seeing eye sees them all, and\nonly His omniscience, which foreknows the number of those who\nshall be His by faith and good works, can measure the greatness\nof the harvest of souls which He will reap at the end of the\nworld. The Lord cometh with ten thousand of His saints.\n{300}\nThe Last Judgment is the victory of Christ. Then again,\nsurrounded by the fruit of His passion, He may repeat the words\nwhich He spoke at the close of His earthly ministry: \"I have\nglorified thee upon the earth. I have _finished the work_\nwhich thou gavest me to do. Those whom thou gavest Me I have\nkept, and none of them hath perished except the son of\nperdition.\" [Footnote 61]\n\n    [Footnote 61: St. John xvii. 4, 12.]\n\nThese thoughts point the way to two practical lessons, one\nrelating to our duty to others, the other relating to our duty to\nourselves.\n\nWe see here the spirit in which we ought to labor for the\nconversion of others. There is certainly a great deal of good to\nbe done around us. How many in this country are out of the Ark of\nsafety, the Catholic Church of Christ! How many in her fold need\nour efforts and labors to make them better! Why are we not more\nactive in laboring for them? We say it is of no use; we have\ntried and failed. Those whose conversion we had most at heart\nseem farther off from the truth than ever. It is no use hoping\nfor the conversion of those who are not Catholics; they are too\nset in their ways. Many of those Catholics, too, who were doing\nwell as we hoped, have fallen off again, and we are weary of\nlaboring with so little success. Oh! what a mean spirit this is;\nhow unlike the spirit of Christ! How unlike the spirit of that\napostle who made himself all things to all men that he might save\n_some_. You will put up with no failures. Christ and St.\nPaul were content to meet with many failures for the sake of some\nsuccess. How unlike the spirit of St. Francis of Sales, who\nlabored so hard during so many discouraging years, for the\nconversion of his misguided Swiss. Christ was rejected and\ncrucified by those whom He came to teach. The apostles were\ndespised and their names cast out as evil. And you will not labor\nbecause you cannot have immediate and full success. But some\nsuccess you will meet with.\n{301}\nYou may not convert the one you desire to convert, but you will\nconvert another. You may not succeed in the way or at the time\nyou look for, but you will succeed in some other way and at some\nother time. There is nothing well done and charitably done for\nthe truth that falls to the ground. God's word does not return to\nHim void, but accomplishes the thing whereunto He sent it. We\nlabor, and other men enter into our labors. But the good work is\ndone, and the fruits are garnered in heaven. Be of great hopes,\nthen. You, my brethren of the priesthood, dare to undertake great\nthings for the honor of our Lord and the extension of His\nkingdom. Use every means that prudence and charity can suggest to\ngain souls to Christ. In the morning sow your seed, and in the\nevening withhold not your hand. Labor in season and out of\nseason. For Sion's sake hold not your hand, and for Jerusalem's\nsake do not rest, until her justice come forth as a brightness,\nand her salvation be lighted as a lamp! And you, my brethren of\nthe laity, labor each in your place, as far as may be given you,\nin the same work. Blessing must come from labor, and reward from\nHim who has promised that \"they that instruct many to justice\nshall shine as stars for all eternity.\" [Footnote 62]\n\n    [Footnote 62: Dan. xii. 3.]\n\nThe other lesson we learn is one which teaches us how to guide\nourselves in a world of sin and scandal. It is no uncommon thing\nfor men to draw injury to their own souls from the disorders\naround them, by making them a pretext for neglecting their own\nsalvation, or taking a low standard of duty. One says, there is a\nman who does not attend to his religious duties, and makes out of\nthis an excuse for his own neglect. \"What is that to thee? Follow\nthou Me,\" is the answer of Christ. There is another who does go\nto the sacraments, but whose life is disedifying. He is profane,\nquarrelsome, untruthful, and artful.\n{302}\nPerhaps he is guilty of worse sins than these. \"What is that to\nthee?\" is again the answer: \"Follow thou _Me_. My love, My\nlife, my teaching is to be the rule of thy conduct, not the\ndoctrines of others.\" Oh! how this cuts the way open to a\nsolution of that question with which we sometimes vex ourselves.\nAre there few or many that will be saved? There are few if few,\nmany if many. Few if few hear and obey, many if many hear and\nobey. Wisdom crieth aloud, she uttereth her voice in the streets;\nhe that hath ears to hear, let him hear. One hears, lays up and\nponders in his heart, like Mary, what he hears, and becomes a\nsaint. Another hears as one who looks in a glass and immediately\nforgets what he saw reflected in it. Here is the distinction\nwhich produces election and reprobation, salvation and damnation.\nThis is the practical question for each one of us: To which of\nthese classes do I belong? This is the prayer which ought to be\nour daily petition: Give me, O Lord, an understanding heart, to\nknow the things that belong to my peace, before they are forever\nhid from my eyes. How great the misery of passing through life\nslothful, careless, inattentive, and so losing the heavenly\nwisdom we might learn! How great the happiness of keeping the\nword in a good heart, and bringing forth fruit with patience!\nThose who do this not only secure their salvation, but they\nconsole Christ for all His cruel sufferings, for they constitute\nthe fruit of His Passion, the success of His Gospel, the crown of\nGlory which He receives from the hand of His Father, the Royal\nDiadem which He will wear for all eternity.\n\n---------------------\n\n{303}\n\n     Sermon IX.\n\n  The Work Of Life.\n\n   (Septuagesima)\n\n\n   \"Why stand ye here all the day idle.\"\n   --St. Matt. xx. 6.\n\n\nThe parable in to-day's Gospel is intended to describe the\ninvitations which God has given, from time to time in the history\nof the world, to various races and peoples, to enter the true\nChurch and be saved. But it may be applied by analogy to His\ndealings with each individual soul, and our Lord's question in\nthe text may be understood by each one of us as addressed\ndirectly to himself. Taken in this sense, it affords instruction\nand admonition, useful at all times, but more especially suitable\non this day, when the Church first strikes the keynote of those\nstirring lessons of personal duty and accountability which are to\nbe the burden of her teachings through the coming season of Lent.\n\nAnd, first, it reminds us of that solemn truth, that we have an\nappointed work to do on earth. It is difficult for us not to be\nsceptical sometimes on this point. Life is so short and\nuncertain, man is so frail and erring, that it seems strange the\nfew years spent here on earth should exert any great influence on\nour eternity. Some such feeling as this was at the bottom of the\nold idea of heathen philosophy that God does not concern Himself\nwith the affairs of men, that we and our doings are of too little\nconsequence to occupy His attention. The book of Wisdom well\nexpresses this creed: \"_For we are born, say they\" (that is,\nthe unbelieving), \"of nothing, and after this we shall be as if\nwe had not been; and our life shall pass away as the trace of a\ncloud, and shall be dispersed as a mist, which is driven away by\nthe beams of the sun, and overpowered by the heat thereof. And\nour name in time shall be forgotten: and no man shall have any\nremembrance of our works._\" [Footnote 63]\n\n    [Footnote 63: Wisdom ii. 2-4.]\n\n{304}\n\nBut such a view of life does not agree either with reason or\nrevelation. God, being Infinite Wisdom, must have an end in every\nthing which He created. If it was not beneath Him to create, it\ncannot be beneath Him to govern His creatures; and reason and\nfree will must have been given to His rational creatures to guide\nthem to their end. It is absurd to suppose a moral and\nintellectual being without a law and a destiny. And revelation\nconfirms this decision of reason. It seems as if the Bible were\nwritten, in great part, to dispel the notion that God is a mere\nabstraction, and to exhibit Him to us as a personal God,\ninterfering in His creation, giving to each created thing its\nplace, and taking note of its operation. In the pages of\nScripture the world is not a chance world, where every thing is\ndoubt and confusion; but an orderly world, where every thing has\nits place. It is a vineyard, into which laborers are sent to\ngather the harvest. It is a house, in which each part has its\norder and use. It is a body, in which each member shares the\ncommon life, and contributes to it. It is a school, in which each\nscholar is learning a special lesson. It is a kingdom, in which\ncitizen is bound to the other in relations of duty or authority.\nYes, God has left a wide field for the free exercise of human\nchoice and will. The pursuits of men, their studies, their\npleasures, may be infinitely varied at their will; but not to\nhave a mission from Heaven, not to have a work to do on earth,\nnot to be created by God with a special vocation--this is not\npossible for man. He is too honorable and great. The image of\nGod, which is traced on his soul, is too deep and enduring; his\nrelation to God is too direct and immediate. No man can live unto\nhimself, and no man can die unto himself. Each man that comes\ninto the world is but an agent sent by God on a special embassy.\nAnd each man that dies, but goes back to give an account of its\nperformance.\n\n{305}\n\nDo not accuse me of saddening and depressing you by thus covering\nman's life, from the cradle to the grave, with the pall of\naccountability. If God were a tyrant, if He reaped where He did\nnot sow, if He exacted what was beyond our strength, if His\nservice did not make us happy, if in His judgment of our actions\nHe did not take into account the circumstances of each one, his\nopportunities, his ignorances, and even his frailties, then,\nindeed, the thought of our accountability would be a dreadful and\ndepressing one. But while our Master and Judge is a God whose\ncompassion is as great as His power, whose service is our highest\nsatisfaction, who knows whereof we are made, and who in His\njudgment remembers mercy, the thought that each one of us has an\nappointed work to do is not only an incentive to duty, but the\nsecret of happiness. There is nothing pleasant in a life without\nresponsibility. Rest, indeed, is pleasant, but rest implies labor\nthat has gone before, and it is the labor that makes the rest\nsweet. \"_The sleep of a laboring man is sweet_,\" says the\nHoly Scripture. But a life all rest, with nothing special to do,\nwithout aim, without obligation, is a life without honor and\nwithout peace. They who spend their time in rushing from one\namusement to another are commonly listless and wretched at heart,\nand seek only to forget in excitement the weariness and\ndisappointment within. God has made the law, \"In the sweat of thy\nface thou shalt eat bread,\" medicinal as well as vindicative.\nWhen, then, you tell me that this world is not my all; that I\nhave an immortal destiny, that life is a preparation for it; that\nthe infinite truth is mine to know, the infinite beauty mine to\npossess; that I have a mission to fulfil; sin to conquer; duties\nto perform; merits to acquire; an account to render; you tell me\nthat which indeed makes my conscience thrill with awe, but which,\nat the same time, takes all the meanness, the emptiness, the\nlittleness out of life, covers it with glory, blends it with\nheaven, expands the soul, and fills it with hope and joy.\n\n{306}\n\nO truth too little known! Religion is not meant to be only a\nsolace in affliction, a help in temptation, a refuge when the\nworld fails us. All these it is, but much more. It is the\nbusiness and employment of life. It is the task for which we were\nborn. It is the work for which our life is prolonged from day to\nday. It is the consecration of my whole being to God. It is to\nrealize that wherever I am, whatever I do, I am the child of God,\ndoing His will, and extending His kingdom on earth. This is the\nsecret of life. This is the meaning of the world. This is God's\nway of looking at the world. As He looks down from heaven, all\nother distinctions among men vanish, distinctions of nationality,\ndifferences of education, differences of station, and wealth, and\ninfluence, and only one distinction remains--the distinction\nbetween the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth\nGod and him that serveth Him not. When we look at the world, it\ndazzles us by its greatness, and overpowers us by its\nmultiplicity. It is so eager and restless. It is so importunate\nand overbearing. Here is the secret which disenchants us from its\nspell. The world is not for itself. It is not its own end. It is\nbut the field of human probation. It is but the theatre on which\nmen are exercising each day their highest faculty, the power of\nfree will. It is the scene of the great struggle between good and\nevil, between heaven and hell, the battle that began when\n\"Michael and his angels fought with the dragon, and the dragon\nfought and his angels.\" [Footnote 64]\n\n    [Footnote 64: Apoc. xii. 7]\n\nInto this arena each generation has entered, one after another,\nto show their valor. Once the saints of whom we read in the Bible\nand the history of the Church were upon the earth, and it was\ntheir turn, and heaven and earth were watching them. They did\ntheir work well.\n{307}\nSo penetrated were they with the great thought of eternity that\nsome of them, like Abraham, left home and kindred, and went out\nnot knowing whither they went; and others, like the martyrs, gave\ntheir hearts' blood for a sacrifice. And there were others who\nwere not saints, for they were not called to deeds of heroism,\nbut they were good men, who in simplicity of heart fulfilled each\nduty, and served God with clean hands and pure hearts. And\npenitents have come in their turn. Once they were unwise, and the\nworld deceived them, and they followed their own will, but\nafterward they turned to God, and redeemed their former sins by a\ntrue penance, and died in the number of those who overcame the\nWicked One. And now it is our turn. There are many adversaries.\nAll things are ready. The herald has called our name. And as the\nprimitive martyrs, condemned to the wild beasts in the\namphitheatre, nerved themselves for the encounter by the thought\nof the thousand spectators ranged around, so to animate our\ncourage let us give heed to the sympathizing witnesses who watch\nour strife, and who cry to us from heaven and from earth: Be\nvaliant! Do battle for the right! Acquit you like men! Be strong!\n\nAnd again, as our Lord's words in the text remind us that we have\nan appointed work to do, they remind us also that we have an\nallotted time to do it in. All men acknowledge that religion is a\nthing to be attended to. But when? Some seem to think that it is\nenough to attend to religion at Easter and Christmas, and that at\nother times it may be left alone. Some at still more distant\nintervals, when the time has been too long, and the number of\nsins too great, and the burden on the conscience too heavy.\nOthers propose to attend to it in the leisure of old age, or just\nbefore they leave this world. And very many imagine that, if a\nman actually makes his peace with God at any time before he dies,\nthere is not much to be regretted. How different is God's\nintention in this matter! \"_Man goeth forth, to his work and to\nhis labor until the evening_.\" Think of a day-laborer.\n{308}\nHe rises very early in the morning, in the winter, long before it\nis light, and goes off to his work. He works all day until the\nevening, pausing only at noon, when he seeks some hollow in the\nrock, or the shelter of some overhanging shrub, to protect him\nfrom the cold or the heat, while he eats his frugal dinner. Now,\nit is after this pattern that God wishes us to work out our\nsalvation. The Christian should work from the morning till the\nevening, from the beginning of life to the end of it. There is\nnot a day that God does not claim for his own. There is not an\nhour over which He has resigned His sovereignty. A man who\nperfectly fulfils his duty begins to serve God early in the\nmorning. In the morning of life, in early youth, when the\ndewdrops sparkle in the sunshine, and the birds sing under the\nleaves, and the flowers are in their fresh bloom and fragrance,\nand every thing is full of keen enjoyment, there is a low, sweet\nvoice that speaks to the soul of the happy boy: \"_My son, give\nme thy heart_.\" And he heeds that voice. It is time for first\ncommunion, and he has leave to go. He does not know fully the\nmeaning of the act. It is too great and deep. But he knows that\nhe is making [a] choice of God. He knows that God is very near\nhim, and he is very happy. By and by the time has come for\nconfirmation. The candidates stand before the bishop, and see,\nthat boy is among the number. He is changed from what he was. He\nhas grown to be a youth now. He is more thoughtful and reserved.\nHe knows now what temptation means; he has seen the shadow of\nsin; he has caught the tones of the world's song of pleasure; but\nhe does not waver; he is bold and resolute for the right, and he\nis come to fortify himself for the conflict of life by the\nspecial grace of the Almighty. And now time goes on, and he\npasses through the most dangerous part of life: he is a young\nman, he goes into business, he marries. There are times of fierce\ntemptation, there are times when the objects of faith seem all to\nfade away from his mind, there are times when it seems as if the\nonly good was the enjoyment of this world, but prayer and\nvigilance and a fixed will carry him through, and he passes the\nmost critical period of life without any grievous stain on his\nsoul.\n{309}\nThus passes the noonday of his life, and he comes to its decline.\nIt draweth toward evening. The shadows are getting long. The sun\nand the light and the moon are growing dark, and the clouds\nreturn after the rain. He is an old man and feeble, but there he\nis with the same heart he gave to God in youth; he has never\nrecalled the offering. He has been true to his faith, true to his\npromises, true to his conscience, and at the hour of death he can\nsing his _Nunc dimittis_, and go to the judgment seat of\nChrist humbly but confidently to claim the reward of a true and\nfaithful servant. Beautiful picture! Life to be envied! A life\nspent with God, over which the devil has never had any real\npower. But you tell me this is a mere fancy picture; no one lives\nsuch a life. I tell you this is the life God intended you and I\nshould live. There have been men who have lived such lives,\nthough, indeed, they are not many. But the number is not so small\nof those who approximate to it. Even suppose a man falls into\nmortal sin, and more than once, all is not lost. Suppose him, in\nsome hour of temptation, to cast off his allegiance to God, and\nin his discouragement to look upon a life of virtue as a dream;\nyet, if such a one gathers up his manhood, if in humble\nacknowledgment of his sin he returns with new courage to take his\nplace in the Christian race, such a man recovers not only the\nfriendship of God, but the merits of his past obedience. There is\na process of restoration in grace as well as in nature. Penance\nhas power to heal the wounds and knit over the gaps which sin has\nmade. What does the Holy Scripture say? \"_I will restore to you\nthe years which the locust, and the canker-worm, and the mildew,\nand the palmer-worm hath eaten._\" [Footnote 65]\n\n    [Footnote 65: Joel ii. 25.]\n\n{310}\n\nMany a man's life, which has not been without sin, has yet a\ncharacter of continuity and a uniform tending toward God. I\nbelieve there are many who have this kind of perfection. They\ncannot say, \"I have not sinned,\" for they have had bitter\nexperience of their own frailty; but they can say, \"I have\nsinned, but I have not made sin a law to me. I have not allowed\nmyself in sin, or withdrawn myself from Thy obedience. I have not\ngone backward from Thee. I have fallen, but I have risen again. O\nLord, Thou hast been my hope, even from my youth, from my youth\nuntil now, until old age and gray hairs.\"\n\nAnd now, my brethren, if we try our past lives and our present\nconduct by the thought of the work we have to do on earth and the\npersevering attention we ought to pay to it, do we not find\nmatter for alarm? and does not our Lord's question convey to us\nthe keenest reproach? \"Why stand ye here all the day idle?\" Yes,\nidle; that is the word. There is all the difference in the world\nbetween committing a sin in the time of severe temptation, for\nwhich we are afterward heartily sorry, and doing nothing for our\nsalvation. And is not this our crime, that we are idlers and\ntriflers in religion? What have our past lives been? What years\nspent in neglect, or even in sin? What long periods of utter\nforgetfulness of God? What loss of time? What excessive anxiety\nabout this world? What devotion to pleasure? And are we now\nreally doing any thing for heaven? Are we really redeeming the\npast by a true penance? Are we diligent in prayer, watchful\nagainst temptation, watchful of the company we keep, watchful of\nthe influence we exert, watchful over our tempers, watchful to\nfulfil our duties, watchful against habits of sin? Are we living\nthe lives God intended us to live? Can we say, \"I am fulfilling\nthe requirements of my conscience, in the standard which I\npropose to myself?\" Ah! is not this our misery, that we have left\noff striving? that we are doing nothing, or at least nothing\nserious and worthy of our salvation? \"Why stand ye all the day\nidle?\" _All the day_. Time is going.\n{311}\nTime that might have made us holy, time that has sanctified so\nmany others who set Out with us in life, is gone, never to\nreturn. The future is uncertain; how much of the day of life is\nleft to us we know not. And graces have been squandered. No\ndoubt, as long as we live we shall have sufficient grace to turn\nto God, if we will; but we know not what we do, when we squander\nthose special graces which God gives us now and then through\nlife. The tender heart, the generous purpose that we had in\nyouth; the fervor of our first conversion; the kind warnings and\nadmonitions of friends long dead; these have all passed away. Oh,\nwhat opportunities have we thrown away! What means of grace\nmisused! \"Why stand ye all the day idle?\" You cannot say, \"No man\nhath hired us.\" God has not left you to the light of natural\nreason alone, to find out your destiny. In baptism He has plainly\nmarked out for you your work. And now in reproachful tones He\nspeaks to your conscience: \"Creature of my hand, whom I made to\nserve and glorify me; purchase of my blood, whom I bought to love\nme; heir of heaven, for whose fidelity I have prepared an eternal\nreward, why is it that you resist my will, withstand your own\nconscience and reason, despise my blood, and throw away your own\nhappiness?\"\n\nBut the words of Christ are not only a reproach, but an\ninvitation. \"Why stand ye here all the day idle?\" It is not,\nthen, too late. God does nothing in vain; and when He calls us to\nHis service, He pledges himself that the necessary graces shall\nnot be wanting, nor the promised reward fail. Church history is\nfull of beautiful instances of souls that, after long neglect,\nrecovered themselves by a fervent penance. Some even, who are\nhigh in the Church's Calendar of Saints, had the neglect and sin\nof years upon their consciences when they began. There is only\none unpardonable sin, and that is to put off conversion until it\nis too late. As long as God calls, you can hearken and be saved.\nTo-day, then, once more He calls. To-day, once more the\ntrumpet-blast of penance sounds in your ears.\n{312}\nAnother Lent is coming, a season of penance and prayer. Prepare\nyourself for that holy season by examination of your conscience.\nRefuse no longer to work in the Lord's vineyard. Offer no more\nexcuses; make no more delay. Work while it is called to-day, that\nwhen the evening comes, and the Lord gives to the laborers their\nhire, you may be found a faithful workman, \"that needeth not to\nbe ashamed.\"\n\n---------------------\n\n    Sermon X.\n\n  The Church's Admonition To The Individual Soul.\n\n\n  (Ash Wednesday.)\n\n  \"Take heed to thyself.\"\n  --1 Tim. iv. 16.\n\n\nThe services of the Church to-day are very impressive. The matter\nof her teaching is not different from usual. The shortness of\nlife, the certainty of judgment, the necessity of faith and\nrepentance, are more or less the topics of her teaching at all\ntimes of the year. But this teaching is ordinarily given to the\nassembled congregation, to crowds, to multitudes. But to-day she\nspeaks to us as individuals. She summons us, one by one, young\nand old, and, as we kneel before her, she says to us, while she\nscatters dust on our foreheads, \"Dust thou art, and unto dust\nthou shalt return.\" It is in this individual and personal\ncharacter of her warning that I find its special significance and\nimpressiveness. There is no mistaking what she means. \"Remember,\nO man, that thou art dust, and unto dust shalt thou return.\" She\nseparates each one of us from all others, and gives her message\nto him in particular. It is an emphatic mode of conveying St.\nPaul's admonition to St. Timothy: \"Take heed to thyself.\"\n\n{313}\n\nIf we take only the sound of the words, it might seem that no\nsuch admonition was necessary. For, in one sense, men attend to\nthemselves quite enough. But, in fact, there is more than one\nself in a man. There is the self that is made up of our passions,\nour failings and disgusts, our comforts and conveniences: this is\nthe self that speaks so loudly in the heart, and obtrudes itself\nso disagreeably on others. This, when indulged, is what we call\nselfishness, and this it is which it is one main object of\nreligion to repress. But there is another self in a man, his true\nand noble self, that self which makes him an individual being,\nwhich asserts itself most distinctly in that part of his soul\nwhere it comes into closest contact with God, namely, his\nconscience. And this self it is very possible for men to forget.\nA man may be a priest and have the care of souls, and be employed\nin preaching and administering the sacraments, or he may be a\nbishop, and live an active life in governing his church, and yet\nhe may forget himself in this sense. St. Timothy was a bishop, a\nsharer in apostolic character and apostolic gifts, and yet St.\nPaul did not think it unnecessary to give him the warning of the\ntext. How must, then, a man forget himself whose occupation is\nmore secular? Tell me: those eager crowds one meets with in the\nstreets, hurrying hither and thither, do you think each one of\nthese realizes that in some sense there is no other in the world\nbut God and he? Or in a crowded church, on Sunday, when the\npreacher, in God's name, is enforcing this duty, or denouncing\nthat vice, that woman sitting in the pew, that man standing in\nthe aisle, does he, does she realize that the words are spoken to\nthem individually, that it is a lesson they are to lay to\nheart--to practise? No! I must say what I think, that there are\nsome who pass through life, from the cradle to the grave, almost\nwithout ever once fully awakening to their own\nself-consciousness; to their own individual existence, apart from\nthe world around them; and their own individual relations to God.\n{314}\nA man may even practise his religion, may know a great deal about\nit, may talk about it, may listen to every word of the sermon in\nthe church, may say his night prayers, may even go through some\nkind of a confession and communion, without fully awaking to\nthese things. Paradoxical as it may seem, I believe that there\nare not a few men, who, of all persons in the world of whom they\nhave any knowledge, are on terms of the slightest and most\ndistant acquaintance with themselves.\n\nAnd I will give you one proof that this is true. You know how\ntroubled many men are in sickness, or on a sleepless night, or in\ntimes of great calamity. Some persons are greatly troubled in a\nstorm, when the thunder rolls over their heads, and the lightning\nflashes in their eyes. Now, of course, nervousness, physical\ncauses, mental laws, and social considerations, may enter more or\nless into the production of this uneasiness, but is there not\nvery often something deeper than any of these? Is it not\nsomething that the man has done yesterday, or last week, or last\nyear, and that he has never set right; some unjust transaction,\nsome evil deed, some act of gross neglect of duty, some miserable\npassion cherished, some impure words spoken, some cruelty or\nshrinking from what is right, or falsehood, or mischief-making.\nIt is not a matter of imagination. It is not fancy, but fact. He\nremembers but too well; he knows when it was done, and all the\nconsequences of it, every thing comes up distinctly. He shuts his\neyes, but he cannot shut it out. You know the clock ticks all day\nlong; amid the various cares of the day you do not hear it, but\noh, how distinct and loud it is at night when your ear catches\nit. Did you ever have an aching tooth, which you could just\nmanage to bear during the excitement of the day, but which began\nto throb and become intolerable when all was still at night, and\nyou had gone to bed? So the uneasiness I have denoted is a real\npain of the soul, which we manage to keep down and forget, or\ndeaden, during our seasons of business and enterprise, but in\nhours of loneliness and danger makes itself felt.\n{315}\nAnd what does this show but that you do not attend to your real\nself; that there is some dark corner of your heart in which you\nfear to look. You keep the veil down, because you know there is a\nskeleton behind it and you are afraid to look at it. And so you\ngo through life, playing a part, something that you are not, with\nsmiles on your lips and honeyed words in your mouth, laughing and\njesting, eating and drinking and sleeping, working and trading,\ngoing in and out, paying visits and receiving them, seeking\nadmiration and flattering others, while all the while, deep down\nin your soul, there is that nameless something, that grief like\nlead in the bottom of your heart, that wound that you are afraid\nto probe, or to uncover, or even to acknowledge.\n\nAnd now, it is this deceitful way in which men deal with\nthemselves, this forgetfulness of themselves, that makes death\nand judgment so terrible. Death brings out the individuality of\nthe soul in the most distinct light. Every thing that hides us\nfrom ourselves shall then be removed, every veil and shred torn\naway, and only ourselves shall remain. A well-known writer has\nexpressed this in a few short words: \"I shall die alone;\" and the\nsame thought is suggested by the language of the Gospel in\nreference to the end of the world: \"Two men shall be in the\nfield, one shall be taken and the other left. Two women shall be\ngrinding at the mill, one shall be taken and the other left.\" One\nshall be taken, and he shall be taken alone--out of all the\nsurroundings which have enveloped him here like an atmosphere,\nand into which he has been fitted like a long-worn garment. When\nour first parents heard the voice of the Lord God calling to them\nin the garden after the fall, they hid themselves, and Adam said:\n\"I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.\" So will it\nbe when the soul stands \"before God in its nakedness, ashamed\nbecause of its guilty self-consciousness.\n{316}\nSo it was with the rich man in our Lord's parable. He lived like\nthe multitude. He had four brothers, and they were all alike.\nThey had heard the sermons of Moses and the Prophets, but little\ndid they think it all concerned them. But at last one of them\ndied, and then he woke up to himself. His life is all before him.\n\"Thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things.\" That was the\nstory of it. He sees it all now: he sees what a glutton, what a\nproud, hardhearted, avaricious man he had been; he sees what a\ncreature of sensuality and self-indulgence he is. Very different\nis his judgment of himself now, from what it was when, in his\npurple robes, he revelled in his banqueting-hall, the air heavy\nwith perfume, and the table flowing with silver and flowers, and\nthe slaves bringing in the costly dishes, while Lazarus, the\nbeggar, sat at his gates, full of sores, and hungering for the\ncrumbs that fell from his table. And so it will be with us:\nawakened to a full consciousness that our relations to God are\nthe only reality. Stripped of all the circumstances that deceived\nand misled and blinded us here; with conscience fully awakened,\nwith all the consequences of sin open before me and all its guilt\nmanifest; I shall be brought face to face with myself, with what\nI am, with what I have been, with what I have done, with my sins,\nand my self-will, and my pride. Yes, this is the real terror of\ndeath and judgment. We think its fearfulness will be in the\nfrowning Judge, and the throne set amid thunder and lightnings.\nOh, no! the Judge does not frown, He is calm and serene. He sits\nradiant in beauty and grace. \"When these things begin to come to\npass,\" says the evangelist, speaking of the signs of the end of\nthe world, \"then look up and lift up your heads, for your\nredemption draweth nigh.\" No! Christ is not transported with\nanger. He is always the same; but the way of His coming is\ndifferent as they to whom He comes are different. The object is\nunchanged, but the medium through which we view it will be\ndifferent.\n{317}\nThere shall be an apparition of terror to the wicked, but it will\nnot be Christ, it will be themselves. The face of Christ shall be\na mirror in which each man shall see himself. Young man, after\nyour career of vice and profligacy, you shall see yourself, the\nmoral leper that you are. There the extortioner, the fraudulent\nmerchant, shall see himself as he is, the unconvicted thief and\nrobber; there the unfaithful husband or wife shall see themselves\nbranded with the mark that tells their shame. The proud woman\nshall see there the deep stains of her soul in all their\nblackness, and her worldly, guilty heart, all laid bare. O sight\nof piercing anguish! \"O hills and mountains fall on us, and cover\nus, and hide us from the wrath of God and of the Lamb.\" But no,\nit is not from the wrath of God and of the Lamb, that we need to\nbe hidden, it is from ourselves. Which way I fly is hell, myself\nam hell. A lost destiny, an existence bestowed in vain. A life\npassed as a dream; capacities for happiness never used; graces\nrefused; time gone; opportunity lost; not merely a law broken, a\npunishment inflicted; but I, myself, with my supernatural grace\nand destiny--I, with all my lofty hopes and powers--I, ruined and\ncrushed forever: that is the hopeless, boundless misery. This is\nthe sore affliction of the guilty after death; and it is the\ndread of this dismay that keeps thee trembling all thy life. But,\non the other hand, for a man to face himself, to excite himself\nto a consciousness of his own individuality, and to a fulfilment\nof his own personal obligation to God, is the way to a peaceful\nand happy life. The Scripture uses a notable expression when\ndescribing the return of the prodigal: \"He came to himself;\" and\nin our ordinary language, when we wish to express the idea of a\nman's seriously reflecting on his destiny and duty, we say he\nenters into himself. These expressions are full of significance.\nThey teach us that something is to be done that no one can do for\nus. Others can help us here, but each one for himself must make\nhis own individual and personal election sure.\n{318}\nEach must go down into his own heart, search out all the dark\ncorners, repent of its sins, resist its passions, direct its aims\nand desires. It is not a work done in a day. It is sometimes a\ndifficult work. There are times in which it pierces to the very\nquick of our sensitive being, but it is the real and only way to\ntrue peace. And oh! it is true and living peace when the soul in\nits deepest centre is anchored to God; when nothing is covered\nover, nothing kept from His sight. There may be imperfections,\nthere may be sins and repentances, but there must be, when such a\ncourse is habitual, a true and growing peace. Do not look abroad,\nmy brethren, for your happiness. It is to be found in yourselves.\nHappy he who knows the meaning of that word: \"My God and I.\" This\nis to walk with God like Abraham. Of this man the Almighty says,\nas he did of Jacob, \"I have known thee by thy name.\" His\nrelations to God are not merely those general ones that grow out\nof creation and redemption: to him God is his life, his very\nbeing, the soul of his soul.\n\nTo-day, my brethren, if I have led your thoughts in the direction\nI have wished, you see that each one of you has a great work to\ndo, that he must do himself. It will not do for you that you have\nhad a pious mother or a good wife. It is not enough that some one\naround you, who lives near you, or sits near you in the church,\nis a good Christian. It is not enough that you are a Catholic,\none of the vast body of believers in the world. Religion is a\npersonal, individual thing. All other men in the world may stand\nor fall: that does not affect you. Each one of us has his own\nindependent position before God. If you are one of a family, if\nyou live in a house with others, or work in a room with many\ncompanions, if you are one of a gang of laborers, or a clerk in\nan office where many others are employed, or a scholar in a\nschool where there are many others of your age, there is a circle\naround you that separates you from each one of your companions.\n{319}\nIf you were to die to-night, your sentence would be different\nfrom that of every other. It might be contrary to those of all\nthe others. They might be friends of God, and you His only enemy.\nAnd the difference would be not from any outward cause, but from\nyourself. \"_I shall see God_,\" says the prophet, \"_whom I\nmyself shall see, and my eyes shall behold and not another_.\"\n[Footnote 66] And now, if your conscience tells you that there is\nsomething unsatisfactory in your character, something sinful in\nyour conduct, it is for you to set it right, and to do it without\ndelay. It is the first duty of Lent. The forty days of grace and\npenance are given for redeeming our sins and saving our souls.\nWhat, then, should be each one's resolution? I will enter into\nmyself, not _we_ will do this, or I will do it if my friend\ndoes, but _I, myself_, I will enter into myself. I will ask\nmyself what this strange, mysterious life of mine in earnest\nmeans, and whether I am to-day advancing to my destiny. I will\nbreak off my sins, and I will pray. It is in prayer that I shall\nunderstand my duty. It is in God that I shall find myself. The\nsolemn words of the Church shall not be uttered in vain for me:\n\"Thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.\" How many have\nheard that warning and are now no more. The young have died, the\nold, the pious, the careless, the rich, and the poor, and each\nhas gone to his own place, the place and portion fitted to his\ndeeds and his character. Perhaps it will not be very long before\nthese words will be verified in me. The Mass shall be said for\nme, the holy water sprinkled over my lifeless form. What shall it\nthen profit me what others have said in my favor or against me? I\nshall be simply what I am before God. \"_What shall it profit a\nman to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?\" \"I shall see\nGod, whom I myself shall see, and my eyes shall behold and not\nanother_.\"\n\n    [Footnote 66: Job xix. 27.]\n\nNOTE--This appears to be the last sermon which F. Baker wrote. It\nwas preached on the evening of the Ash-Wednesday before his death\nas the first of the Lenten Course of Sermons.\n\n------------------------------------------\n\n{320}\n\n          Sermon XI.\n\n\n    The Negligent Christian.\n\n\n      (Third Sunday In Lent.)\n\n\n  \"He that is not with Me is against Me;\n  and he that gathereth not with Me, scattereth.\"\n  --St. Luke XI. 23.\n\n\nThere are many seeds planted in the ground that never come up.\nThere is a great deal of fruit on the trees that never comes to\nripeness. So among Christians there is a great deal of good that\nalways remains incomplete and inadequate. Who of us has not seen\nsuch? Who of us does not know such? They have some faith, some\nreligion, but they bring no fruit to perfection. Now, what is the\nblight that destroys all their goodness? It is sloth, negligence,\ntepidity, call it what you will. Religion influences them, but\ndoes not control them. They do not reject it, but they do not\nobey it, at least consistently and in principle. They are languid\nChristians. They are not the worst, but they are not good. They\nseek with eagerness the pleasures of the world, and make no\nconscience of avoiding smaller sins, even when wilful and\ndeliberate. They neglect the means of grace, prayer, sermons, and\nsacraments, with but little scruple, or approach them carelessly.\nThey allow themselves a close familiarity with evil, dally with\ntemptation, and now and then fall into mortal sin. So they go\nthrough life, conscious that they are living an unsatisfactory\nlife, but making no vigorous efforts to better it. It is of such\nmen that I would speak this morning; and I propose to show how\ndispleasing this negligence of our salvation is to God, and how\ndangerous it is to ourselves.\n\n{321}\n\nThe negligent Christian displeases God because he does not fulfil\nthe end for which he was created. What is the end for which God\ncreated us? Certainly it is not for ourselves, for before God\ncreated us we were not, and could not have been the end for which\nHe made us. He must have made us for Himself, for His glory. Yes,\nthis is the end for which He does every thing, for Himself. From\nthe very fact that we are created, our end must be to love and\nserve God. We are bound, then, to love and serve God, and we are\nbound to do it with perfection and alacrity. What kind of\ncreature is that which renders to God a reluctant and imperfect\nservice? Suppose a king were to appoint a day to receive the\nhomage of his subjects, and while he was holding his court, and\none after another was coming forward to kiss his hand or bend the\nknee, some one, ill-attired, and with slovenly demeanor, should\napproach and offer a heedless reverence. Would it not be taken as\nan act of contempt and an offence? Now, God is our King, and He\nholds a levee every morning and invites the creation to renew its\nhomage. The world puts on its best array. The sun comes forth as\na bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a giant to run\nhis course. The mountains and hills clothe themselves in blue,\nand the trees put on their robes of green. The birds sing, and\nthe waters move and sparkle. Holy and humble men of heart rise\nfrom their beds to enter on their daily course of duty and of\nprayer, while within the veil the spirits of the just and the ten\nthousand times ten thousand angels bow before the Throne of Him\nthat lives forever. And now in this great Act of Praise, this\nceaseless sacrifice that creation is offering to its Maker, there\ncomes in the negligent Christian, cold, distracted, and\nunprepared to take his part. He does not kneel down to pray. He\ngoes to work without a blessing. He does not think of God. Nay,\nin His very presence says and does unseemly things. Oh! is he not\na blot on the scene? Is not his presence an offence?\n{322}\nIn the Old Testament, God complains of the Jewish priests because\nthey brought to Him the halt and the blind and the sick for\nsacrifice. He says: \"Offer it now to thy prince, will _he_\nbe pleased with it, or will _he_ regard thy face?\" [Footnote 67]\n\n    [Footnote 67: Mal. i. 8.]\n\nSo in like manner, negligent Christian, God complains of you. You\nbring to Him a \"lame sacrifice,\" those feet of thine that stumble\nso often in the way of justice; a \"blind\" and \"sick sacrifice,\"\nthat heart of thine, so fond of the world and so weak in the love\nof God.\n\nYes, God requires of us all fervor and perfection--of each one of\nus. It is a great mistake to suppose that perfection is required\nonly of priests or religious; it is required of every one. We are\nnot all required to seek perfection in the same way. The married\nseek it in one way, the unmarried in another. The man of business\nseeks it one way, the recluse in another. But everyone is\nrequired to seek it in such way as accords with his state in\nlife. \"That is a faithful servant,\" says St. Gregory, \"who\npreserves every day, to the end of his life, an inexhaustible\nfervor, and who never ceases to add fire to fire, ardor to ardor,\ndesire to desire, and zeal to zeal.\" Our own hearts tell us this\nwhen they are really under the influence of the Spirit of God.\nTake a man at his first conversion, either to the faith or to a\ngood life, and how fervent he is! It is not enough for him to\ncome to Mass always on a Sunday, he will come now and then on a\nweek-day. It is not enough for him to keep from what is sinful,\nhe will not allow himself all that is innocent. He does not think\nof bargaining with God. This is his thought--that God is All, and\nhe is a creature, and that God deserves his best, his all.\nBy-and-by, alas! as he becomes unfaithful, another spirit comes\nover him. He asks: \"Is this binding under mortal sin? That duty\nis irksome; is it a great matter if I omit it now and then?\" God\ntells us what he thinks of such a man in the parable of the\nTalents.\n{323}\nWhen the Lord came to reckon with his servants, he that had\nreceived one talent came and said, \"_Lord, I know that thou art\na hard man, thou reapest where thou hast not sown, and gatherest\nwhere thou hast not strewed. And being afraid, I went and hid thy\ntalent in the earth_.\" And his Lord in answer said to him:\n\"_Thou wicked and slothful servant! thou knewest that I reap\nwhere I sow not and gather where I have not strewed. Thou\noughtest therefore to have committed my money to the bankers, and\nat my coming I should have received my own with usury. Cast ye\nthe unprofitable servant into exterior darkness_.\" [Footnote 68]\n\n    [Footnote 68: St. Matt. xxv. 24.]\n\nAgain, if fervor in our duties is due to God as our Creator, it\nis none the less due to Christ as our Redeemer. Oh, how strong\nare the words of St. Paul: \"_The love of Christ presseth us;\njudging this, that if one died for all, then were all dead. And\nChrist died for all, that they also that live may not now live to\nthemselves but to Him who died for them_.\" [Footnote 69]\n\n  [Footnote 69: II. Cor. v. 14.]\n\nYou see what his idea was--that the love of Christ was a debt\nthat could never be paid, that it was a claim on us that pressed\ncontinually, and was never satisfied. And surely it is so. When\nwe think at all, we must all acknowledge that it is so. Who is\nChrist? the Son of God, the Splendor of His Father's Glory, and\nthe Image of His Substance. Who are we? lost sinners. And for us\n\"He did not abhor the Virgin's womb.\" He did not refuse \"to bear\nour infirmities, and carry our sorrows.\" He gave His body to the\nsmiters, and turned not away from those that rebuked Him and spat\nupon Him. He gave His blood [as] a ransom for many, and laid down\nHis life for sin. Was there ever love like this? While gratitude\nlives among men, what shall be the return given to Christ by\nthose whom He has redeemed? Is the return we are actually making\nsuch as He deserves?\n{324}\nWas it for this that He died, that we should not commit _quite\nso many_ mortal sins? Was it for this that He hung on the\ncross, that _only now and then_ we should omit some\nimportant duty? Was it for this that He sweat those great drops\nof blood, that we should live a slothful and irreligous life? O\nmy brethren, when I see how men are living; when I look at some\nChristians, and see how when Easter comes round it is an even\nchance whether they go to their duties or not; when I see them on\nSunday stay away from Mass so lightly, or listen to the word of\nGod so carelessly; when I see them omit most important duties\ntoward their families; when I see how freely they expose\nthemselves to temptation, and how easily they yield to it; when I\nsee how slow they are to prayer, how cold, sluggish, sensual and\nworldly they are; above all, when I hear them give for an answer,\nwhen they are questioned about these things, so indifferently,\n\"_I neglected it_,\" I ask myself, Did these men ever hear of\nChrist? Do they know in whose name they are baptized? Did they\never look at a crucifix, or read the story of the Passion? Alas!\nyes, they have seen and heard and read, and have taken their\nside, if not with Judas in his deceitful kiss, or the soldiers in\ntheir mockery, with the crowd of careless men who passed by,\nregardless and hard-hearted. But let these men know that their\nSaviour sees and resents their neglect. \"_Because thou art\nlukewarm_,\" He says, \"_and neither cold nor hot, I will\nbegin to vomit thee out of my mouth_.\" [Footnote 70] His soul\nloathes the slothful and half-hearted. Yes, slothful Christian,\nfar different will be the estimate thou wilt make of thy life\nwhen thou comest to die, from what thou makest now. Then that\nnegligence of thine, of which thou makest so little, will seem\nthe crime it really is; and bitter will be the account thou shalt\nrender of it to Christ thy Judge.\n\n   [Footnote 70: Apoc. iii. 16.]\n\n{325}\n\nBut if it be not enough to rouse us from our torpor, to think\nthat we are offending God, let us reflect how great is the danger\nwhich we are bringing on our own souls. A negligent Christian is\nin very great danger of being lost. I said just now that he falls\ninto mortal sins now and then. It is hardly possible it should be\notherwise. One will certainly fall into mortal sin if he does not\ntake pains to avoid it. We all have within us concupiscence, or a\ntendency to love the creature with a disordered love, and this\ntendency is much increased in most men by actual sins of their\npast lives. Now, this principle acts as a weight on the will,\nalways dragging it down to the earth. Fervent men make allowance\nfor this. They aim higher than it is necessary to reach. They\nleave a margin for failures, weakness, and surprise. They build\nout-works to guard the approaches to the citadel. But with the\nnegligent Christian it is the contrary of all this. Unreflecting,\nunguarded, unfortified by prayer, in his own weakness, and with\nhis strong bent to evil, he must meet the immediate and direct\ntemptations to mortal sin which befall him in his daily life. Is\nnot his fall certain? Not to speak of very strong temptations\nwhich can only be overcome by a special grace, which grace God\nhas not promised to grant except to the faithful soul--even\nordinary temptations are too much for such a man. He falls into\nmortal sin almost without resistance.\n\nAnd what is also to be taken into the account is, that the\ndifference between mortal and venial sin is often a mere question\nof more or less. So much is a mortal sin: so much is not. The\nline is often very difficult, nay, impossible to be drawn, even\nby a theologian. Now, who can tell us in practice when we have\narrived at the limit of venial sin, when we have passed beyond it\nand are in mortal sin? Will not a careless, thoughtless man, such\nas I have described, will he not be certain sometimes to go over\nthe fatal line? Yes, my brethren, negligent Christians commit\nmortal sins. They commit mortal sins almost without knowing it.\nThey commit mortal sins oftener than they imagine.\n{326}\nWithout opposing religion, without abandoning themselves to a\nreprobate life, just by neglecting God and their duties, they\nfall into grievous sins; bad habits multiply upon them apace,\ntheir passions grow stronger, grace grows weaker, their good\nresolutions less frequent and less hopeful, until they are near\nto spiritual ruin. The wise man gives us in a striking picture\nthe description of such a soul: \"_I passed by the field of the\nslothful man and by the vineyard of the foolish man: And behold,\nit was all filled with nettles, and thorns had covered the face\nthereof: and the stone wall was broken down, which when I had\nseen, I laid it up in my heart, and by the example I received\ninstruction. Thou will sleep a little, said I: thou will slumber\na little: thou will fold thy hands a little to rest: And poverty\nshall come upon thee as one that runneth, and want as an armed\nman_.\" [Footnote 71]\n\n    [Footnote 71: Proverbs xxiv. 30.]\n\nAnd what is to secure you from dying in such a state? Our Lord\nsays, \"_If the master of the house had known in what hour the\nthief would come, he would have watched, and would not have\nsuffered his house to be broken open_.\" [Footnote 72]\n\n    [Footnote 72: Matt. xxiv. 43.]\n\nBut he knew not, and so in the dead of night, when deep sleep\nfalleth on man, the thief came. And so it is with death. It comes\nlike a thief in the night. Death is almost always sudden.\nSometimes it comes without any warning at all. A man is sent into\neternity in a moment, without time to utter a prayer. Sometimes\nit comes after sickness, but sickness does not always prepare for\ndeath. The sick man says: \"Oh, it is nothing; I shall soon be\nwell.\" His friends say the same. If he gets worse the priest is\nsent for; he would like to receive the sacraments. But too often\nhe has not yet looked Death in the face, he has not heard the\ndreadful truths he has to tell, he is much as he was in life,\nslothful and negligent. And after the priest is gone, when he is\nalone, at midnight, that comes to pass of which he has thought so\nlittle.\n{327}\nDeath enters the room, and with his icy hand unlocks the prison\nof the body, whispering to the soul with awful voice, \"Arise, and\ncome to judgment.\" O my brethren, how dreadful, if at that hour\nyou find yourself unready! If like the foolish virgins you are\nforced to cry: \"Our lamps are gone out.\" \"_Cursed is he that\ndoeth the work of the Lord negligently_,\" [Footnote 73] saith\nthe Holy Scripture. The work of the Lord is the work of our\nsalvation. That is the work of our life, the work for which we\nare created, and he, who through negligence leaves this work\nundone, shall hear at the last that dreadful sentence: \"Depart ye\ncursed.\"\n\n    [Footnote 73:  Jer. xlviii. 10.]\n\nWe come back, then, to this truth, that the only way to secure\nour salvation is to be not slothful in that business, but fervent\nin spirit, serving the Lord. Salvation is a serious work. We are\nnot sufficiently aware of this. We seem somehow to have got in\nthe belief that the way of life is not strait, and the gate not\nnarrow. Certainly we feel very differently about our salvation\nfrom what our fathers in the Catholic Church felt. How many have\ngone out into the desert and denied themselves rest and food, and\nscourged themselves to blood! How many have devoted themselves to\nperpetual silence! How many have willingly given up wealth and\nfriends and kindred! How many, even their own lives! Will you\ntell me they were but seeking a _more perfect_ life? they\nwere but following the counsels of perfection, which a man is\nfree to embrace or decline? I tell you they were seeking their\n_salvation_. They were afraid of the judgment to come, and\nwere trying to prepare for it. \"Whatever I do,\" says St. Jerome,\n\"I always hear the dreadful sound of the last trumpet: 'Arise, ye\ndead, and come to judgment.'\" Now, can salvation be a work so\nserious to them and so trivial for us? Grant that yon are not\nbound to do precisely what they did, are you at liberty to do\nnothing?\n{328}\nIf you are not bound to a perpetual fast, are you at liberty to\ndarken your mind and inflame your passions by immoderate\ndrinking? If yon are not required to walk with downcast eyes and\nto observe perpetual silence, are you free to gaze on every\ndangerous object, and to speak words of profanity, falsehood,\nimpurity, or slander? If you are not required to flee from your\nhomes, are you not required to forsake the occasions of sin? If\nyou are not called to forego all innocent pleasures, are you\nexempt from every sort of self-denial? If no rule obliges you to\nspend the night in prayer, are you not obliged to pray often?\nYes, it was the desire to place their salvation in security that\nled our fathers into the desert. Surely, we have to work out our\nsalvation with fear and trembling, who remain behind in a world\nwhich they left as too dangerous, and have to contend with\npassions which they felt wellnigh too strong for them. We must be\nwhat they were. \"_The time is short: it remaineth that they who\nhave wives be as those who have not; and they who weep as they\nwho weep not; and they who rejoice as they who rejoice not; and\nthey who buy as they who possess not; and they who use this world\nas if they used it not; for the figure of this world passeth\naway_.\" [Footnote 74]\n\n    [Footnote 74: I. Cor. vii. 29, 30.]\n\nMy brethren, then be earnest in the work of your salvation. While\nwe have time let us do good, and abound in the work of the Lord.\nServe the Lord with a perfect heart. He deserves our very best.\nOur own happiness, too, will be secured by it, for He says:\n\"_Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, and you shall find\nrest to your souls_.\" [Footnote 75] And to the fervent: \"_An\nentrance shall be ministered abundantly into the everlasting\nkingdom of Jesus Christ_.\" [Footnote 76]\n\n    [Footnote 75: Matt. xi. 29.]\n\n    [Footnote 76: II. Pet. i. 11.]\n\n{329}\n\nThis is my desire for you, to see you fervent Christians. I would\nlike to know that you are anxious to assist at the Holy Mass on\nweek-days as well as on Sundays. I would like to know that you\npray morning and evening. I would like to believe that you speak\nwith God often as the day goes on. I would like to know that you\nare watchful over your lips for fear of giving offence with your\ntongue; that you are prompt to reject the first temptations to\nevil; that you are exact in the fulfilment of your duties; that\nyou are careful in confession, and devout at communion--in a\nword, that you are living a life of watchfulness against the\ncoming of Christ to judgment. This includes all. This is what our\nSaviour enjoined on us: \"_Take heed; watch and pray; for you\nknow not when the Lord of the house cometh: at even, or at\nmidnight, or at cock-crowing, or in the morning. Lest coming of a\nsudden, He find you sleeping_.\" [Footnote 77]\n\n    [Footnote 77: St. Mark xiii. 35.]\n\n-------------------------------------\n\n         Sermon XII.\n\n\n   The Cross, The Measure of Sin.\n\n       (Passion Sunday)\n\n  \"For my thoughts are not as your thoughts;\n  nor your ways my ways, saith the Lord.\n  For as the heavens are exalted above the earth,\n  so are my ways exalted above your ways,\n  and my thoughts above your thoughts.\"\n    --Isa. LV., 8, 9.\n\n\nTo-day, my brethren, is the beginning of Passion-tide, the most\nsolemn part of the season of Lent. The two weeks between now and\nEaster are set apart especially for the remembrance of the\nsufferings of Christ. Therefore the Church assumes the most\nsombre apparel, and speaks in the saddest tone. The actual\nrecital of the Passion, the following of our Blessed Saviour step\nby step in His career of woe, she reserves for the last three\ndays of this sorrowful fortnight.\n{330}\nIn this, the earlier part of it, her aim is rather to suggest\nsome thoughts which lead the way to Calvary, and prepare the mind\nfor the great event that happened there. I shall then be saying\nwhat is suitable to the season, and at the same time directing\nyour minds to what I regard as one of the most useful reflections\nconnected with this subject, by asking you this morning to\nconsider the sufferings of Christ as a revelation of the evil of\nsin.\n\nBut, it may be asked, does man need a revelation on this point?\nIs not the natural reason and the natural conscience sufficient\nto tell us that sin is wrong? Undoubtedly a man naturally knows\nthat sin is an evil, and without this knowledge, indeed, he would\nbe incapable of committing sin, since in any action a man is only\nguilty of the evil which his conscience apprehends. But this\nnatural perception of sin is more or less confused and\nindistinct. Our Saviour on the cross prayed for His murderers in\nthese words: \"Father, forgive them; for they know not what they\ndo.\" He did not mean that they were ignorant that they were doing\nwrong, for then they could have needed no forgiveness, but that\nthey did not realize the full atrocity of the deed. They were\nacting guiltily indeed, but inadvertently and blindly: And the\nsame may be said of very many sinners. Sin is for the most part a\nleap in the dark. A man knows he is doing a dangerous thing, but\nhe does not realize the full danger. He does not take in the full\nscope of his action, nor its complete consequences. St. Paul\nspeaks of the deceitfulness of sin, and the expression describes\nvery well the source of that disappointment and unhappiness which\noften overtakes the transgressor when he finds himself involved\nin difficulties from which it is all but impossible to extricate\nhimself and sorrows which he never anticipated. It is the old\nstory. Sin \"_beginneth pleasantly, but in the end it will bite\nlike a snake and will spread abroad poison like a serpent_.\"\n[Footnote 78] Oh! how many are there who are finding this true in\ntheir own experience every day.\n\n    [Footnote 78: Prov. xxiii. 31, 32.]\n\n{331}\n\nTell me, my brethren, do you think that young persons who\ncontract habits of sin that undermine their health know all they\nare bringing on themselves--the weakness of body, the feebleness\nof mind, the early decay, the shame, the remorse, the impotence\nof will, the tyranny of passion, the broken vows and resolutions,\nthe hopelessness, the fear--perhaps the premature disease and\ndeath? No, all this was not in their thoughts at first. These are\nthe bitter lessons which the youth has learned in the school of\nsin. He has not found out what he was doing till it was all but\ntoo late. Or that married woman who has stepped aside from the\npath of virtue, did she realize what she was doing? Did she think\nof the plighted faith broken; did she think of the horrible guilt\nof the adulteress, of the agony, the remorse, the deceit, the\nfalsehood, the trembling fear of her whole future life; did she\nrealize the moment when her guilt would be detected, the fury of\nher wronged husband, her family dishonored, her children torn\nfrom her embrace, her name infamous, herself forlorn and ruined?\nOh, no! these things she did not realize. There was indeed, on\nthe day when she committed the dreadful crime, a dark and fearful\nform in her path, that raised its hands in warning, and frowned a\nfrown of dreadful menace. It was the awful form of conscience,\nbut she turned away from the sight, and shut her ear to the\nwords, and heard not half the message. And so the dreadful\nconsequences of her sin have come upon her almost as if there had\nbeen no warning. Or that drunkard, when he was a handsome young\nman, with a bright eye and a light step, and was neatly dressed,\nand was succeeding in his business; when he first began to\ntipple, did he realize that he would soon be a diseased, bloated,\ndirty vagabond; that his children would be half naked, and his\nwife half starved; or that he would spend the last cent in his\npocket, or the last rag on his back, in the vain effort to allay\nthat thirst for drink which is almost as unquenchable as the fire\nof hell?\n{332}\nNo, he little foresaw it, and if it had been told him, he would\nhave said with Hasael, the Syrian captain, when Elisha showed him\nthe abominations he was about to commit, \"What, am I a dog, that\nI should do such things?\" Or that thief, when he yielded to the\nglittering temptation, and made himself rich for a while with\ndishonest riches, did he then see before him the deeper poverty\nthat was to follow; the loss of all that makes a man's heart glow\nand his life happy; the lies that he must tell, the subterfuges\nhe must resort to, the horrible detection, the loss of situation,\nthe public trial, the imprisonment? No. Of course these were all\ndaily in his thoughts, for they were part of the risk he knew he\nwas running; but so little did he bring them home to himself, and\nthe suffering he was to endure, that when they came it seemed\nalmost hard, as if a wholly unlooked-for calamity had overtaken\nhim. So it is. Wherever we look it is the same thing. Men imagine\nsin to be a less evil than it really is. It is so easy to commit\nit, it is so soon done, the temptation so strong, that it does\nnot seem as if such very bad consequences would come of it. So it\nis done, and the bitter consequences come. It seems as if the lie\nthat Satan told to Eve in the garden, when he tempted her to eat\nthe forbidden fruit, \"Thou shalt not surely die,\" still echoes\nthrough the world and bewitches men's ears so that they always\nunderrate the guilt and punishment of sin; and although the lie\nhas been exposed a thousand times, although in their own bitter\nexperience men find its falsehood, yet they do not grow wiser,\nthey still go on thoughtless, insensible to their greatest danger\nand their greatest evil, and when they stand on the shore of\ntime, and hear God threatening eternal punishment hereafter to\nthe sinner, they still set aside the warning with the same fatal\ninsensibility.\n{333}\nIf they are not Catholics, they deny or doubt the existence of\nhell; if they are Catholics, they think somehow they will escape\nit.\n\nOh, my brethren, before you allow yourselves to act on this\nestimate of sin, so prevalent in the world, ask yourselves how it\naccords with God's estimate of sin. That is the true standard.\nGod is Truth. He sees things as they are, and every thing is just\nwhat He considers it. He is our Judge, and it will not save us\nwhen we stand on trial at His bar to tell Him that we have\nrejected His standard and taken our own. What, then, is God's\nestimate of sin? Look at the Cross, and you have the answer. Let\nme for a moment carry you back to the scene and time of the\nCrucifixion. It is the eve of a great festival in the city of\nJerusalem. It is the Parasceve, or Preparation of the Passover.\nOn this day the Jews were required, each family by itself, to\nkill a lamb and eat it with unleavened bread and bitter herbs.\nThey were required to eat it standing, with loins girded, and\nwith staves in their hands, because this feast was in memory of\nthe sudden deliverance of their fathers from the bondage of\nEgypt, when God smote the first-born of the Egyptians with death,\npassed over the houses of the Israelites, and conducted them\nmiraculously through the waters of the Red Sea. It was a great\nfeast among the Jews, and always collected together a great\nmultitude of strangers in the holy city. But on this occasion a\nnew excitement was added to the interest of the holy city, for\nthere was a public execution on Mount Calvary, and turbaned\npriests, and Pharisees with broad fringes on their garments, and\nscribes and doctors of the law, mingled in the throng of\nmechanics and laborers, and women and children, who hastened to\nthe spot. The day is dark, but as you draw near the Mount, you\nsee, high up in the air, the bodies of men crucified; and sitting\non the ground, or standing in groups, talking and disputing among\nthemselves, or watching in silence with folded arms, are gathered\na vast multitude of spectators.\n\n{334}\n\nWhat is there in this execution thus to gather together all\nclasses of the people? The punishment of crucifixion was\ninflicted only on slaves or malefactors of the worst kind, and\ntwo of the three that are hanging there are vulgar and infamous\noffenders. What is it, then, that gives such interest to this\nscene? It is He who hangs upon that cross, at whose feet three\nsorrowing women kneel. Read the title, it will tell you who He\nis. \"This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.\" Yes, this is Jesus,\nthe merciful and kind; He who went about doing good, healing all\nmanner of sickness, and delivering all that were possessed with\nthe devil; He who spoke words of truth and love. This is Jesus,\nthe King of the Jews, whom a thousand prophecies fulfilled in him\nand a thousand miracles performed by Him pointed out as the\npromised Messias: Jesus, whom the Eternal Father, by a voice from\nheaven, had acknowledged as His own Son. \"This is my beloved Son\nin whom I am well pleased.\" Why is this? Why is it that the just\nman perisheth? The apostle tells us: \"Christ must _needs_\nhave suffered.\" He was the true Paschal Lamb that must die that\nwe might go free. He was the victim of our sins. Pilate and Herod\nand the Jews were but the instruments by which all the\nconsequences of our sins fell upon Him who came to bear them.\n\"_Surely He hath borne our infirmities and carried our sorrows;\nand we have thought Him, as it were, a leper, and as one struck\nby God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our iniquities, He\nwas bruised for our sins. The chastisement of our peace was upon\nHim, and by His bruises we are healed. All we like sheep have\ngone astray, everyone hath turned aside into his own way, and the\nLord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all_.\" [Footnote 79]\n\n    [Footnote 79: Isia. liii. 4, 5, 6.]\n\n{335}\n\nYes, every sin of every kind received its special reparation in\nthe sufferings of Christ. His mouth is filled with vinegar and\ngall to atone for our luxury. His ear is filled with revilings to\nexpiate the greediness with which we have drunk in poisonous\nflattery. His eyes languish because ours have been lofty, and His\nhands and feet are pierced with nails because ours have been the\ninstruments of sin. He suffered death because we deserved it. He\nwas accursed, because we had made ourselves liable to the curse\nof God, and hell had its hour of triumph over Him, because we had\nmade ourselves its children. Nor was it our Lord's body alone\nthat suffered. It would be a great mistake to suppose that His\nsacrifice was merely external. The chief part of man is his soul.\nSt. Leo says that our Lord on the cross appeared as a penitent.\nIt was not only that He suffered for the sins of men, but it was\nas if He had committed them. The horror of them filled His soul;\nsorrow for the outrage they had done to the Majesty and Holiness\nof God consumed Him. \"My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto\ndeath,\" He said. Afterward the evangelist says He began to be\nvery heavy, and it was sinners that on the cross made Him bow His\nhead and give up the ghost. He was not killed. His enemies did\nnot take His life. The flood of sorrow for sin came into His\nsoul, and overwhelmed Him. It was too much. His heart was broken.\nOh, the weight of that sorrow! He bowed His head and gave up the\nghost. Then sin was expiated. Then the work of man's atonement\nwas completed. At last man had done adequate penance. At last\nsorrow for sin had reached its just proportion as an offence\nagainst God.\n\nHere, I say, we have a revelation of the evil of sin. God does\nnothing in vain: His works are as full of wisdom as they are of\npower. Since, therefore, Christ died for sin, the cross of Christ\nis the measure of sin.\n{336}\n\"From the consideration of the remedy,\" says St. Bernard, \"learn,\nO my soul, the greatness of thy danger. Thou wast in error, and\nbehold the Son of the Virgin is sent, the Son of the Most High\nGod is ordered to be slain, that my wounds may be healed by the\nprecious balsam of His blood. See, O man, how grievous were thy\nwounds, for which, in the order of Divine wisdom, it was\nnecessary that the lamb Christ should be wounded. If they had not\nbeen unto death, and unto eternal death, never would the Son of\nGod have died for them. The cross of Christ is not only an altar\nof sacrifice, but a pulpit of instruction. From that pulpit,\nlifted up on high, Jesus Christ preaches a lesson to the whole\nworld.\" The burden of the lesson is the evil of sin. \"The law was\ngiven by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.\" And\nyet, my brethren, the law was published afresh by Jesus Christ.\nMount Calvary but repeats the message of Mount Sinai--nay,\nrepeats it with more power. Here, indeed, God does not speak in\nthunders and lightnings, as He did there, but He speaks in the\nstill small voice of the suffering Saviour. Oh, what meaning is\nthere in those sad eyes as they bend down upon us! Oh, what power\nin those gentle words He utters! He does not say, \"Thou shalt not\ncommit adultery; thou shalt not steal; thou shalt not bear false\nwitness.\" No. He cries to a guilty people, a people who have\nalready broken the law, and He says to them: \"See what you have\ndone. See My thorn-crowned head. See My hands and feet. Look at\nMe whom you have pierced. Is it a light thing that could have\nreduced Me to such a state of woe? Is it a light thing that could\nhave bound Me to this cross? Me, the Creator of all things, to\nwhom you owe all life and liberty? Who by My word and touch have\nso often healed the sick and released them that were bound to\nSatan. They say of Me, 'He saved others, Himself He cannot save.'\nAnd they say truly. Here must I hang. Not the Jews have nailed Me\nto this cross, but My love, and thy sins. Yes, see in My\nsufferings your sin displayed. See in the penalty I pay the\npunishment you have deserved. See your guilt in My sorrow. Look\nat Me, and see what sin is in the presence of the All Holy God!\"\n\n{337}\n\nCan any thing show more than this what a mysterious evil sin is,\nthat it is an offence against God, an assault upon His throne, an\nattack upon His life, an evil all but infinite? All the other\nexpressions of the evil of sin, the cries of misery which it has\nwrung from its victims, the warnings which natural reason has\nuttered against it, the tender lamentations with which the saints\nhave bewailed it, the penalties with which God has threatened to\nvisit it, all pale before the announcement that God sent His Son\ninto the world to die for it. I do not wonder that, as the\nevangelist tells us, the multitudes who came together at the\nsight of our Saviour's crucifixion returned smiting their\nbreasts. Oh, what an awakening of stupefied consciences there\nmust have been that day! How many, who came out in the morning\ncareless and thoughtless, went back to the city with anxious\nhearts, with a secret grief and fear within they had never felt\nbefore. I suppose that even the scribes and Pharisees, who had\nplotted our Saviour's death, felt, for the moment at least, a\nguilty fear. Why, even Judas, when he saw what he had done,\nrepented, and went and hanged himself saying: \"I have sinned in\nthat I have betrayed the innocent blood.\" And this book of the\nPassion has been ever since the source from which penitents have\ndrawn their best motives for conversion, and saints their\nstrongest impulses to perfection. Here, on the cross, is the root\nof that uncompromising and awful doctrine about sin--the\ndoctrine, I mean, that sin is in no case whatever to be allowed,\nthat even the smallest sin for the greatest result can never be\npermitted; that it is an evil far greater than can be spoken or\nimagined; that it must never be trifled with, or made light of;\nthat it is to be shunned with the greatest horror, and avoided,\nif need be, even at the cost of our life--which has always been\nso essential a part of Christianity.\n\n{338}\n\nAnd now, my brethren, it is because men forget the cross, because\ntheir minds no longer move on a Christian basis, that they make\nlight of sin. There is a tendency in our day to do so. Crime--men\nacknowledge that, an offence against law, an offence against good\norder. Vice--they acknowledge that, a hurtful and excessive\nindulgence of passion; but _sin_, a creature's offence\nagainst God, that they think impossible. \"What! can I, a frail\ncreature,\" say they, \"ignorant and passionate, can I do an injury\nto God? I err by excess or defect in my conduct; I bring evil on\nmyself it is true; but what difference can that make to the\nSupreme Being? Can He be very much displeased at my follies? Will\nHis serene Majesty in heaven be affected because I on this earth\nam carried too far by passions? Can He care what my religious\nbelief is? or will He separate Himself from me eternally because\nI have happened to violate some law?\" Such language is an echo of\nheathenism, and heathenism not of the best kind, for some\nheathens have had a doctrine about sin which approached very near\nto the Christian doctrine. It is moreover, a degrading doctrine;\nfor, while it leaves a man his intellect and animal nature, it\ntakes away his conscience. What is that conscience within us but\na witness that God does concern Himself about us--that my heart\nis His throne, and that my everlasting destiny is union with Him.\n\"Every one that is born of God,\" says the apostle, \"doth not\ncommit sin, for he cannot sin, because he is born of God.\" Not\nthat sin is a physical impossibility with him, but it is in\ncontradiction to his regenerate nature. In order, then, to soothe\nyourself into the belief that sin is not so very bad, that God\ncannot be very angry with you for it, you have got to tear\nconscience from your heart, you have got to give up the good\ngift, and the powers of the world to come, which came upon you at\nyour baptism; and you have to give up all the brightest hopes of\nChristianity for the life hereafter. Nay, more, you have got to\ndeny the cross, to deny our Lord's divinity, to deny His\nsufferings for sin, and thus to render yourself without faith as\nwell as without conscience.\n{339}\nI conclude with the affectionate exhortation of St. John the\nApostle. \"_My children, these things I write to you that ye sin\nnot.\" \"All unrighteousness is sin_.\" Every breach of the moral\nlaw is a failure in that homage, that obedience, that service we\nowe to God. It is a direct offence against God. It is a thing\nexceedingly to be feared and dreaded. A wrong word spoken or a\nwrong action done has consequences which go far and wide. Do not\nsay, you have sinned, but have done harm to no one. You have done\nharm to God, and you have certainly done harm to yourself. Do not\nsin. Do not commit mortal or venial sin. Do not make light of\nsin. Do not abide in sin. If you are in sin now, remember at this\nholy time to repent and turn back to God: and if your conscience\ntells you that you are now in the friendship of God, oh, let it\nbe all your care to avoid sin. Fly from the face of sin. Fly from\nthe approach of sin. Avoid the occasions of sin. Watch against\nsin, and pray continually, not to be led into sin: and when your\nhour of trial comes, when some strong temptation assails you,\nthen be ready to say, as the prophet Joseph, \"What! shall I do\nthis wicked thing, and offend against God?\" This is that fear of\nGod which is the beginning of wisdom. This is the happiness of\nwhich the Psalmist spoke: \"_Blessed is the man that hath not\nwalked in the council of the ungodly, nor stood in the way of\nsinners, nor sat in the chair of pestilence; but his will is in\nthe law of the Lord, and on His law he shall meditate day and\nnight. And he shall be like a tree which is planted near the\nrunning waters, which shall bring forth its fruit in due season.\nAnd his leaf shall not fall off; and all, whatsoever he shall do,\nshall prosper._\" [Footnote 80]\n\n    [Footnote 80: Ps. i. 1-3.]\n\n--------------------------------\n\n{340}\n\n          Sermon XIII.\n\n\n    Divine Calls And Warnings.\n\n\n      (A Sermon For Lent.)\n\n\n  \"Seek ye the Lord while He may be found,\n  call upon Him while He is near.\"\n     --Isai. LV. 6.\n\n\nThe Wise Man tells us that \"_all things have their season, and\nin their times all things pass under heaven_.\" [Footnote 81]\nCertainly, it is so in the natural world. There is a time for the\nbirds to migrate. \"_The kite in the air knows her time, the\nturtle and the swallow and the stork observe the time of their\ncoming_.\" [Footnote 82]\n\n    [Footnote 81: Eccl. iii. 1.]\n\n    [Footnote 82: Jer. viii. 7.]\n\nThere is a time for seeds and shrubs to grow. Seed-time and\nharvest do not fail. There is a busy time and a slack time in the\nworld of commerce. There is a time for education, a time when the\nmind is inquisitive and the memory retentive, and it is easy to\nacquire knowledge; and another time, when the powers of the mind,\nlike the limbs of the body, seem to grow stiff and rigid, and can\nbe employed only with difficulty. But does this law reach also to\nthe supernatural world? Has the grace of God also its seasons and\nits times? I believe it has; and it is to this fact, so important\nin its bearing on our salvation, that I wish now to direct your\nattention.\n\nBut you may ask me what I mean by saying that the grace of God\nhas its special times and seasons. Are not all times alike to\nGod? Is not God always ready to save the sinner, and to bestow\nthe graces necessary to his salvation? Undoubtedly He is. We,\nCatholics, believe that God gives to every man living sufficient\ngrace, that is, He gives him the grace to pray; and if he prays,\nGod is ready to give him other and higher graces, which will\ncarry him on to salvation; but, ordinarily speaking, men do not\nuse this common grace, unless some special and particular grace\nis given which excites them to do so.\n{341}\nNow, it is of these special graces of which I speak, when I say\nthat they have their times and their seasons. I refer to those\nDivine Calls and Warnings, those Providences, those sacred\ninspirations, which stir the heart beneath its surface, and bring\nit, for a time at least, in conscious contact with the Infinite\nand Eternal. These, I say, come and go. They have a law of their\nown. We cannot have them all the time. We cannot appoint a time,\nand say we will have them to-morrow, or next year. They are like\nthe wind that blows; we hear the sound of it, but we cannot tell\nwhence it comes and whither it goes. They are like the lightning,\nthat shines from the east even unto the west. They come suddenly,\nand dart a flash of light upon our path, then they are gone. They\nare like the visit of Christ to the two disciples at Emmaus: as\nsoon as their hearts began to burn within them, and they\ndiscovered who it was that talked with them, He vanished out of\ntheir sight.\n\nCertainly there are proofs enough that such is the law of God's\ndealings with the soul. If we look back at our own lives, do we\nnot see that we have had our special times when Christ visited\nus? our times of grace? red-letter days in the calendar of our\nlife? I know God's grace acts secretly; and oftentimes when we\nare under the strongest influence of grace, we are least\nconscious of it. But when the time is past and over, and we look\nback upon it, we can see that there was a Divine influence upon\nus, especially if we have corresponded to it. I think each one of\nus, if he looks back upon the past, will see clearly the times\nwhen he has been under the impulse of some unusual movement of\nthe mind, the result of some special grace of God. Perhaps it\ncame in the shape of some great affliction. You had a happy home.\n{342}\nThe purest of earthly joys was yours--domestic happiness, perfect\nsympathy in gladness and in sorrow. But death entered your abode,\nand the loving voice was silenced, and the kindly eye was closed.\nAnd in that deep grief, in that darkness and loneliness Christ\nspoke to your sinking heart, saying, \"Fear not;\" and you came\nforth out of that affliction with a new strength, with purer\naims, with a quietness and peace of heart which only suffering\ncan give.\n\nOr, perhaps, the crisis in your history was your attendance on a\n\"mission.\" You had lived in neglect of religion, almost complete.\nConfession was a bugbear to you. Years of sin and forgetfulness\nof God had hardened your conscience. But suddenly all was\nchanged. You seemed a new man. Your faith was illuminated with a\nnew brilliancy. Sin had a new horror. The string of your tongue\nwas loosed, and oh, with what ease, with what fidelity and\nexactness, you made that dreaded confession! What comfort you\nderived from it! and with what energy and determination did you\nenter on the duties of a Christian life!\n\nOr, it might have been in less striking ways that grace did its\nwork. It may have been a book, a word, an interior inspiration,\nsome of the seasons of the holy Church, holy communion, some of\nthe lesser changes of life, a fit of sickness, a violent\ntemptation: these may have been the instruments which God made\nuse of, from time to time, to convey special graces to your soul.\nSometimes the aim of these graces was to arouse you out of some\ndeeply-seated habit of sin; sometimes to draw your heart away\nfrom the world to heaven; sometimes it was a call to prayer;\nsometimes a warning of danger: in fine, for some purpose bearing\non your salvation, there they are, those visits of grace in your\npast life, as distinct and unmistakable as any other part of your\nhistory. When we read the Bible story of such saints as Abraham,\nMoses, and Elias, what strikes us as most wonderful and most\nbeautiful is the familiarity in which they lived with God, how\nGod drew near to them and spoke to them.\n{343}\nNow, such passages have a parallel in the history of each one of\nus. There are times in our lives, and not a few such times, when\nGod draws near to the soul, when He confronts it, makes special\ndemands upon it, addresses it no longer in general, but\nparticularly and individually; when He says to the soul, Go and\ndo this, Do not do that, as unmistakably as when He said to\nAbraham: \"_Go forth out of thy country, and from thy kindred,\nand out of thy father's house, and come into the land which I\nshall show thee_.\" [Footnote 83]\n\n    [Footnote 83: Gen. xii. 1.]\n\nAnd if this be so, the mode in which we receive these divine\ncommunications must have a great deal to do with our guilt or\ninnocence before God. We read in the Book of Judges, that on a\ncertain occasion an angel of the Lord appeared to Manne and his\nwife, with a message from on high. He appeared to them in a human\nshape, and spoke with a human voice, and they did not know that\nhe was an angel. It was not until they saw him ascend to heaven\nin the flame from the altar that they understood that they had\nbeen talking with one of the heavenly host. Then they said:\n\"_We shall certainly die because we have seen God!_\"\n[Footnote 84]\n\n    [Footnote 84: Judges xiii. 22.]\n\nNow, there is a sense in which this exclamation is neither\nsuperstitious nor strange, as the expression, that is, of their\nanxiety lest in their ignorance they might have treated their\nheavenly visitor in some unseemly way. O my brethren, it is no\nlight thing for God to draw near to a human soul. It is no light\nthing for Him to speak to us. When He speaks we cannot be as if\nHe had not spoken. \"His word shall not return to Him void.\" The\nrelation between the Creator and the creature is such, that the\nmoment He speaks our position is altered. When He calls we must\neither follow or refuse to follow; there is no neutrality\npossible.\n\n{344}\n\nOh, what a thought, that if indeed God has spoken to us often in\nour past lives, if He has given us special calls and warnings, we\nmust often have resisted Him! There are many of us, I fear, who\nhave altogether too little conscience on this subject. A man\ncomes to confession after an absence of several years. He\nconfesses his more prominent sins against the divine\ncommandments, but perhaps he does not even mention his failure to\nperform each year his Easter duty. And if the confessor calls his\nattention to it, he has nothing to say but, \"Oh, yes, I neglected\nthat.\" You see, he does not realize at all that God has been\ncalling him from year to year, has met him again and again, and\nexhorted him to repent, and he has refused.\n\nAnother man hears a sermon which thoroughly awakens his\nconscience. He sees in the clearest light the danger of his\nbesetting sin. His conscience is stirred, he almost resolves to\nbreak off his sin, but he does not quite come to the point, he\npostpones his conversion, and, after a little, dismisses the\nsubject from his mind. Now here again, you see, is a distinct\nresistance to grace. The man has not only continued in sin, but\nhas continued in sin in spite of God's warning.\n\nAgain, a person, free from the grosser forms of sin, has some\nradical fault of character; some fault which is apparent to\neveryone but himself; a deep obstinacy; a dangerous levity; an\ninveterate slothfulness; an overbearing temper; a domineering\nspirit--faults which are the source of innumerable\ndifficulties--and he is plainly warned of these faults, but\nrefuses to acknowledge them, strengthens himself in his\nself-deception, and clings to these faults as if they were a\nnecessary part of his character. What is he doing, but\nfrustrating the designs of God, despising His reproof, and\nrejecting the grace which was meant to make him so much better,\nso much happier, so much more useful?\n\n{345}\n\nResisted grace! What is that but to withstand God to His face,\nand to say: _I will not serve?_ To resist grace, what is\nthat but to despise the precious Blood of Christ. To obtain for\nus those graces, the Blood of Christ and all His sufferings were\ngiven, and without them we should have been left in our sins and\nmiseries; and so to refuse these graces is to make light of\nChrist's most bitter Death and Passion. To resist grace, what is\nthat but to refuse glory. For each grace of God has a\ncorresponding degree of glory attached to it; and, if we refuse\nthe one, we reject the other. The truth is, we forget too much\nGod's personal agency in our salvation. We are on earth, and God\nis far away in heaven. He has indeed left us His Law, and He is\ncoming to judge us at the last day, but He is not now a present,\nwatchful, living, speaking God to us. We forget that \"_He is\nnot far from every one of us_.\" We forget that He is about our\npath, and about our bed; that He watches us with the eagerness\nand tenderness of a mother for her child; that He intensely\ndesires our salvation; that He pleads with us, warns us, calls to\nus, stretches out His Hand to us all the day long. It is nothing\nthat He Himself tells us He stands at the door and knocks; it is\nnothing that He calls to us from without, saying: \"_Open to Me,\nMy love, for my head is wet with dew, and My locks with the drops\nof the night;_\" we open not; we heed Him not; we hear Him not.\nOh! I believe, at the Judgment Day, many a man will be appalled\nto see how he has treated Christ. In the description which our\nLord has given us of that day, He tells us that the wicked shall\nsay, in answer to His reproofs: \"_When saw we Thee hungry or\nthirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did\nnot minister to Thee?_\" So, I believe, many will say: \"O Lord,\nwhen did we refuse to hear Thee? When did we shut our hearts to\nThy grace?\" And He will answer: \"When, at the voice of My\npreacher, you refused to forsake that sin; when, at the\ninvitation of My Church, you refused to repent and amend; when,\nat the call of My Spirit, you refused to awake from your sloth,\nand follow after that perfection I demanded of you. In rejecting\nMy agents, you have rejected Me. It was I; I, your God and your\nSaviour; I, your End and Reward, who walked with you on your way\nthrough life, who opened to you the Scriptures, and sought to\nenter in and tarry with you.\"\n\n{346}\n\nAnd, again, as resistance to grace is a special sin in itself,\nand a special matter about which we must render an account to\nGod, so, when persisted in, it is the sure road to final\nimpenitence and reprobation. Let me bring before your mind some\nof our Lord's emphatic teaching on this point.\n\nToward the latter part of our Lord's life, in preaching to His\ndisciples on a certain occasion, He used this parable: \"A certain\nman had a fig-tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking\nfruit on it and found none. And he said to the tiller of the\nvineyard: Behold, these three years I came seeking fruit on this\nfig-tree, and I find none. Cut it down therefore; why doth it\ntake up the ground? But he answering, said to him: Lord, let it\nalone this year also, until I dig about it and dung it. And if\nhappily it bear fruit: but if not, then after that thou shalt cut\nit down.\" [Footnote 85]\n\n    [Footnote 85: St. Luke xiii. 6-9.]\n\nThe same lesson which in this parable Christ conveyed to the ear,\nHe addressed, about the same time, by a striking action, to the\neye. As He was going from Bethany to Jerusalem, He saw a fig-tree\nby the wayside. \"_And he came to it, and found nothing but\nleaves only, and He said to it: May no fruit grow on thee\nhenceforward forever. And immediately the fig-tree withered away.\nAnd the disciples seeing it, wondered, saying: How is it\npresently withered away?_\" [Footnote 86]\n\n    [Footnote 86: St. Matt. xxi. 19.]\n\nThe apostles could not fail to connect this action with the\nparable quoted above, and to understand them both as referring to\nthe rejection of the Jewish people. For three years He preached\nto that people, warned them, and instructed them. Then, at last,\nwhen they refused to listen to Him, He withdrew from them His\npresence, grace, and blessing, and left them to the consequences\nof their unbelief and hardness of heart; left them to \"wither\naway.\"\n{347}\nListen to His lamentation over that guilty city. It is Palm\nSunday. He is coming to the city in triumph. The crowds are\nshouting hosannas. At last, in His journey He comes to the Mount\nof Olives, whence the Holy City is full before His view. He looks\nat it; He thinks of all He has done to warn that people and\nconvert them; He thinks of the ill success He has met with; He\nknows that he is going there for the last time, and that in a few\ndays they will fill up the measure of their sins by nailing him\nto the cross; and, as he looked upon it, He wept over it, and\nsaid: \"_If thou hadst known, and that in this thy day, the\nthings that are for thy peace: but now they are hidden from thy\neyes. For the days shall come upon thee, and thy enemies shall\ncast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and straiten\nthee on every side, and beat thee flat to the ground, and thy\nchildren who are in thee: and they shall not leave in thee a\nstone upon a stone, because thou hast not known the time of thy\nvisitation_.\" [Footnote 87] Behold the end! a people resisting\ngrace, until at last grace forsakes them, and they are left to\ntheir own impenitence and hardness of heart! And behold the\nfearful image of a soul which has resisted grace, until its final\nreprobation!\n\n    [Footnote 87: St. Luke xix. 41-44.]\n\nYes, my brethren, this is but the fearful image of what passes in\nmany a soul. What does the Holy Scripture say? \"_The man that\nwith a stiff neck despiseth him that reproveth him shall suddenly\nbe destroyed; and health shall not follow him._\" [Footnote 88]\n\n    [Footnote 88: Prov. xxix. 1.]\n\nGod does not desire the death of the wicked. God never entirely\nceases to strive with man. God never leaves a man altogether\ndestitute of grace. But then God is not bound to impart special\ngraces; and when He finds that these graces are uniformly\nrejected, when he meets only a hardened heart and a will\nobstinately bent on evil, He withholds them, or gives them less\nfrequently. Meanwhile bad habits increase; sins multiply; the\nroot of sin in the heart becomes deeper and stronger: years pass\non in sin, and at last death comes. What kind of a death\nnaturally follows such a life?\n{348}\nWhat kind of death often, in point of fact, follows such a life?\nI will tell you: an impenitent death; the death of the reprobate\nand the lost. Perhaps the man dies a sudden death. He may die in\nhis bed, but die a sudden death for all that; for he may die out\nof his senses, and unable to do any thing whatever toward making\nhis peace with God. Or, he may die in daring rebellion against\nGod. It is possible for men to die so. It is possible for a man\nwho has a deep enmity in his heart to refuse to give it up at the\nlast hour; and it does happen. It is possible for a man who has\ndishonest wealth in his possession to clutch it even while his\nfingers are cold and blue in the last agony; and that does\nhappen. It is possible for a man who has lived in shameful sins\nof unchastity to refuse to dismiss the partner of his guilt,\nthough in five minutes his soul will be in hell; and that too has\nhappened. Or, a man may die in despair. The devil may bring the\nfearful catalogue of his sins before his mind, in all their\nblackness and enormity; the remembrance of bad confessions and\nbroken resolutions may paralyze his will; and the dreadful record\nof communions made in sacrilege may complete the temptation, and\nthe poor soul turn away from the crucifix, turn away from the\npriest, and die pouring forth the ravings of despair.\n\nOr, on the contrary, he may die in presumption, in self-deceit.\nHe may indeed go through the form of a confession, may receive\nthe sacraments, and cheat himself into thinking it is all right,\nand be all the time a hypocrite, turning from his sins, not\nbecause he hates them, but because he can no longer enjoy them;\nand may receive the absolution of the priest only to hear it\nreversed the moment he gets into the presence of the unerring\nJudge, before whom are open all the secrets of the heart.\n\n{349}\n\nDeath in some such form is, I say, the natural end of neglect of\ndivine calls and warnings; and such a death is, in point of fact,\nnot unfrequently the actual end of such a course. \"_For_,\"\nsays the apostle, \"_the earth that drinketh in the rain, which\ncometh often upon it, and bringeth forth herbs useful for them by\nwhom it is tilled, receiveth blessing from God. But that which\nbr\u00edngeth forth thorns and briers, is rejected, and very near to a\ncurse, whose end is to be burnt_.\" [Footnote 89]\n\n    [Footnote 89: Heb. vi. 7, 8.]\n\nAnd, O my brethren, if this is so, you who are putting off your\nconversion, putting off your return to God, to what a risk are\nyou exposing your salvation! You say you will go to your\nconfession at some other time. You are young; you imagine it will\nbe easier in coming years; you think your passions will be\nweaker, your temptations less. But you are deceiving yourselves.\nYou are counting on that which you do not know will ever be\nyours. You cannot promise yourself another year. How many who\nwere here a year ago are now numbered with the dead! some of them\nas young as you are, and who a year ago felt as you do now. You\ncount on special graces, and you have no right to count on them.\nYou are deceiving yourselves, my brethren, you are deceiving\nyourselves. The freeness and abundance of grace, the\n_cheapness_ of grace, if I may so express myself, deceives\nyou. God invites, and seems to plead and to beseech you to be\nsaved, and you think it will always be so. You think a time is\ncoming when God will save you in spite of yourselves. You know\nthat you are not now on the road to heaven, you know that you are\nliving in sin, but you think somehow God will interfere and make\nit right. We are told in the gospel that there was at Jerusalem a\npool, around which usually lay a great multitude of sick and\nafflicted people, waiting for the moving of the water; for an\nangel came down at certain times and troubled the water, and\nwhoever stepped in first after the troubling of the water was\nhealed.\n{350}\nSo it is with slothful, negligent, procrastinating Christians.\nThey lie in their sins, waiting for some aid which will raise\nthem to their feet, and make them whole without any effort of\ntheir own. Vain hope! They will die in their sins. \"_You shall\nseek me_,\" said Christ, \"_and you shall die in your\nsins_.\" [Footnote 90]\n\n    [Footnote 90: St. John viii. 21.]\n\nThese fearful words are addressed to you, O despiser of God's\ngrace; to you, O young man, who deferrest conversion; to you,\nlover of pleasure, who will not break with your idols; to you, O\ndrunkard, who will not throw away the intoxicating glass; to you,\nO avaricious man, who are getting rich by fraud or by the blood\nof souls. \"_You shall die in your sins_.\" That is the end to\nwhich you are tending. As you have despised God, so He will\ndespise you. You shall seek Him, but you shall not find Him. You\nshall call upon Him, but He will not hearken. At your dying hour,\nevery thing will fail you. Prayer will die on your lips, unused\nto pray. Your mind, so long accustomed to love sin, will find it\nhard to turn from it with true contrition. The priest, ah! the\npriest cannot save you. He can only help you, can only give you\nthe consolations of religion if you are rightly disposed. And how\ncan you dispose yourself at that dreadful hour, when your mind is\nfilled with a fearful looking for of judgment, when all your\nsins, and all the graces you have rejected, rise up before your\nguilty conscience? Oh! meet this danger. Do not run this risk.\nResist no longer the grace of God. Behold, now once more God\ncalls you to His fear. Behold, the days have come \"to do penance,\nand to redeem your sins.\" God by His Holy Church makes you\nanother offer. \"_Turn unto me, and I will turn unto you_,\"\nsaith the Lord. \"_Let the wicked forsake his way, and the\nunjust man his thoughts, and let him return to the Lord, and he\nwill have mercy on him_.\" [Footnote 91] \"_To-day, then, if\nyou will hear His voice, harden not your hearts_.\" Resolve to\nprepare for your Easter confession. If you came last Easter and\nhave persevered, bless God, and come now. If you have fallen\naway, see where the error was, and learn a deeper humility, and\nmake a stronger purpose, and come again.\n\n    [Footnote 91: Isai. lv. 7.]\n\n{351}\n\nAnd, oh if you have stayed away in former years, and are\npurposing to stay away this Easter, too--or if you are too\nnegligent to have formed any purpose; if you are just floating\non, heedless and careless, then know, that for all these things\nGod will bring you into judgment, that the severest part of your\naccount will be for graces resisted and rejected; and that you\nare preparing for yourselves the retribution threatened in those\ndreadful words: \"_Because I called and you refused: I stretched\nout My Hand; and there was none that regarded. You have despised\nall my counsel, and have neglected my reproofs. I also will laugh\nin your destruction: and will mock, when that shall come upon you\nwhich you feared. When sudden calamity shall fall upon you, and\ndestruction as a tempest shall be at hand: when tribulation and\ndistress shall come upon you: Then they shall call upon Me, and I\nwill not hear: they shall rise in the morning, and shall not find\nMe: Because they hated instruction, and received not the fear of\nthe Lord, nor consented to My counsel, but despised all My\nreproof. Therefore they shall eat the fruit of their own way, and\nshall be filled with their own devices_.\" [Footnote 92]\n\n    [Footnote 92: Prov. i. 24-31.]\n\n----------------------------------\n\n{352}\n\n          Sermon XIV.\n\n      The Tomb Of Christ,\n    The School Of Comfort.\n\n      (Easter Sunday.)\n\n\n   \"Jesus saith to her:\n   Woman why weepest thou?\n   Whom seekest thou?\"\n     St. John xx. 15.\n\n\nHow full of tenderness are these words! They were spoken on the\nfirst Easter Day. This weeping woman was Mary Magdalene, she that\nhad been a great sinner, and was converted, and loved our Lord so\nmuch. She had been at His Cross: she is now at His Tomb, with her\nspices and ointments to anoint His body. But our Lord's body was\nnot in the grave. The stone is rolled away. The tomb is open, and\nHe is not there. And yet He is not far away. Risen from the dead\nto a new and mysterious life, He hovers about the garden, and\ndraws near to her as she approaches the sepulchre. At the\noutburst of her grief on finding the sepulchre empty, He breaks\nsilence. \"_Woman why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?_\"\nThese are the first words our Lord spoke after His Resurrection.\nThey are the same words that were used by the angel a little\nbefore. They seem to be the antiphon, the key-note which Heaven\nhas given us to guide our Easter thoughts. No tears on Easter\nDay. Nay, no tears any more of the bitter, hopeless kind, for\nChrist is Risen. St. Mary Magdalene at the tomb of Christ\nrepresents Humanity sitting in the region and shadow of death.\nNow to-day Christ comes forward, and speaks comfortable words to\nthe human race. \"_Why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?_\" He\nchallenges us. \"I, thy risen Saviour,\" He seems to say, \"am thy\nconsoler. What grief is there that I have not removed?\" And is it\nso? Are all our real sorrows removed or alleviated by the\nresurrection of Christ? Yes; heavenly messengers have appeared\nbringing good tidings. Christ is risen.\n{353}\n\"The stroke of our wound is healed. \"_To them that sat in the\nregion of the shadow of death, light is sprung up.\" \"The\nDay-Spring from on high hath visited us._\" The earth feels\nherself to be lightened of her darkness, and in every church in\nChristendom the cry is again and again repeated: \"_Alleluia:\nPraise the Lord_.\"\n\nIt would be too long to attempt to show how every human sorrow\ncan gather consolation from the Resurrection of Christ. All I can\nhope to do this morning is to show how the three heaviest\ntroubles of our race--doubt, guilt, and bereavement--find their\nrelief in that event.\n\nI call doubt, guilt, and bereavement the heaviest woes of man. In\nregard to the first, religious doubt, many of you have had no\nexperience. Brought up in the Catholic Church, with her teaching\nalways sounding in your ears, you have never known what it was to\nhave real doubts about religious truth. But there are others who\nhave known that anguish by experience. The soul of man thirsts\nfor truth. Deep in every man's soul is a desire for God. It may\nbe stifled, it may be silenced for a time by passion, but there\nit is, that stretching forth to the Fountain of Goodness and\nBeauty, that longing to know Him and His will. In generous souls,\nin souls that are conscious of their dignity, the finding of\ntruth is an indispensable necessity. The search for truth is an\noccupation that must be pursued with whatever pain and trouble,\nand until it be found life is really insupportable. O my\nbrethren, I do believe that there are souls around us who hunger\nfor truth as a famishing man hungers for food. They labor and\ntoil harder than any day-laborer. They are like men exploring a\ndark and many-chambered mine. They go with stooping head, and the\nsweat rolls off their foreheads, and their feet stumble, and with\ntheir dim light they can see but a little way before them, and\nthey are in danger of losing their way.\n{354}\nNo doubt they learn something; for God is everywhere; God is in\nour hearts, and in Nature, and in men, and in books, and in the\npast, and we cannot look for Him anywhere without finding His\nfootprints; but we want more than this. We want God to speak to\nus. We sigh for the lost happiness of Eden, where God walked with\nour first parents in \"the cool of the day.\" This is what men\nneed. They need God to _reveal_ Himself to them, to give\nthem certainty in religious truth, at least on the most important\npoints. Everywhere men have been seeking this. \"_Oh that God\nwould rend the heavens and come down!_\" [Footnote 93]\n\n    [Footnote 93: Isaias lxiv. 1.]\n\nThis is the cry of humanity, that God would speak to us and make\nus hear His voice. And they have sought for this voice. They have\nstrained their ears to listen to it. They have sought it of the\nmoon and stars as they moved through the heavens by night; they\nhave sought it in the whispers of the grove; they have sought it\nat the lips of men of science and pretended religious teachers.\nBut they have met in such sources only with disappointment or\ndeceit. And yet that voice has always been in the world. It spoke\nat first feebly and low, but louder and louder as time went on,\nuntil Jesus Christ came and \"spake as never man spake.\" He\nclaimed to be the Son of God, taught us clearly about God and our\ndestiny, promised His unfailing protection to His Church in\ntransmitting His doctrine to all generations, and confirmed the\ntruth, both of His Teaching and Promises, by rising from the dead\naccording to His Word. To Him, therefore, belongs the glorious\ntitle: \"_The Faithful and True Witness, the First-Begotten of\nthe Dead._\" [Footnote 94]\n\n    [Footnote 94: Apoc. i. 5.]\n\nEighteen hundred years have passed away, but His Word has lost\nnone of its authority, and now this morning we can say, as to\nevery point of the Catholic creed, with as much certainty as on\nthe morning of the Resurrection the Apostles felt in regard to\nall the words of Christ--\"_I believe_.\" O glorious privilege\nof a Catholic! \"_Rejoice_,\" says the prophet, \"_and be\nglad in the Lord, O children of Sion, because He hath given to\nyou a Teacher of Justice_.\" [Footnote 95]\n\n    [Footnote 95: Joel ii. 23.]\n\n{355}\n\nObedient to this inspired injunction, the Church requires the\nCreed to be sung at her great solemnities. It is not enough to\nrecite it. No; it must be sung, sung in full chorus, accompanied\nwith instruments of music. And fitting it is and right. Worship\nwould be incomplete without it. Litanies and hymns are the means\nby which the heart does homage to God; but CREDO, \"_I\nbelieve_,\" that is the intellect's cry of joy at its\nemancipation from the bondage of doubt. Oh, how mistaken are\nthose who imagine that the articles of the Creed are like fetters\non the mind. On the contrary, they are to us the evidences of\nthat liberty wherewith Christ has made us free. We reject\ntemptations against faith, as attacks on our happiness. We feel\nthat to doubt the doctrine of faith would be to doubt the Son of\nGod, and to doubt Him would be to discredit our own soul. Be\nfirm, then, my brethren in faith. Remember that faith is part of\nyour birthright and privilege as Christians. The Sepulchre of\nChrist is the gate to the Palace of Truth. See, the door is open.\nThe stone is rolled away. Oh, enter and be blest. With Thomas\nlook at His wounded side and say, \"_My Lord and my God!_\"\nWith Magdalene fall at His feet and call Him \"_Master_.\"\nListen to His words and doubt no more. \"_Being no more\nchildren, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of\ndoctrine, but holding the truth in charity, in all things grow up\nin Him who is the Head, Christ_.\" [Footnote 96]\n\n    [Footnote 96: Eph. iv. 14.]\n\nAgain, as doubt is the bondage of the intellect, so guilt is the\nburden of the conscience. Who can give peace to a soul that has\nsinned? The prophet Micheas well describes the anxiety of such a\nsoul. \"_What shall I offer to the Lord that is worthy?\nWherewith shall I kneel before the High God? Shall I offer\nholocausts unto Him, and calves of a year old? Will He be\nappeased with thousands of rams? Shall I give my first-born for\nmy wickedness, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?_\"\n[Footnote 97]\n\n    [Footnote 97: Mich. vi. 6.]\n\n{356}\n\nNow, must we for ever go on in this uncertainty? Shall we never,\nafter we have sinned, have again the assurance that we are\npardoned? Must we go trembling all our days, and be\nterror-stricken at the hour of death? Are we left to our own\nfancyings and feelings to decide whether we are pardoned or not?\nShall we never _hear_ that sweet consoling word: \"_Go in\npeace, thy sins are forgiven thee?_\" Yes, Christ is risen. He\nis come from the grave \"with healing in His wings.\" He is come as\na conqueror, with the trophies of victory. Hear what He says of\nHimself: \"_I am He that liveth and was dead, and behold I live\nforever, and have the keys of Hell and Death_.\" [Footnote 98]\n\n  [Footnote 98: Apoc. i. 18.]\n\nHe has come back from the grave with the keys of Hell in His\nhand. While He was yet among men He had promised to give those\nkeys to St. Peter and the Apostles, but it was only after His\ndeath, by which He had merited our pardon, and after His\nResurrection, by which His Father had attested His acceptance of\nthe Ransom, that He proceeded solemnly to deliver them. \"_Now\nwhen it was late_,\" says St. John, \"_that same day_\"\n(Easter day) \"_Jesus came and stood in the midst and said to\nthem: Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent Me, I also send\nyou. When He had said this, He breathed on them: and He said to\nthem, Receive the Holy Ghost: Whose sins you shall forgive, they\nare forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are\nretained_.\" [Footnote 99]\n\n    [Footnote 99: St. John xx. 19.]\n\nDo you hear this, O sinner? He offers you pardon, and He assures\nyou of it. All He asks of you is a true sorrow; all He asks is a\nfervent and true purpose to offend Him no more. Come, confessing\nyour sins; come, forsaking them, and He has promised that His\npriest shall declare to you, in His name: \"I absolve thee from\nthy sins.\"\n{357}\nHe has promised to ratify the sentence in heaven. Can you doubt\nHis power? Can you doubt His truth? No: He has risen for our\njustification. \"_What shall we say then to these things? If God\nbe for us, who shall be against us? Who shall lay anything to the\ncharge of the elect of God? It is God that justifieth. Who is he\nthat shall condemn? It is Christ that died, yea also Who is risen\nagain_.\" [Footnote 100]\n\n    [Footnote 100: Rom. viii. 33.]\n\nDo not look on us, the ministers of His grace, weak and frail as\nwe are. Look at the Saviour. Look at Him dying on the cross, a\nransom for our sins. Look at Him, rising from the dead on the\nthird day, having accomplished a complete victory over our\nspiritual enemies, and bringing to us life and pardon. See Him in\nHis divine power, instituting sacraments by which that life and\npardon might be communicated to us. Believe His word, trust His\nmerits, have recourse to His sacraments, and thus, \"_being\njustified by faith have once more peace with God, and rejoice\nagain in hope of the Glory of God_.\" [Footnote 101]\n\n    [Footnote 101: Rom. v. 1.]\n\nCome, forgiven sinner, lift up your head, for God hath cleansed\nyou. Be happy: be a Christian: be a man once more, for you are\nclothed again in the garments of innocence and sanctity. It is no\nincomplete and grudging pardon He has given you. Though your sins\n\"were as scarlet,\" they are now as \"white as snow;\" though they\nwere \"red like crimson,\" they are \"as white as wool.\" \"He hath\ncast your sins into the bottom of the sea.\" They shall never be\nmentioned to you again. He has even restored to you again the\nmerits you had acquired in days of innocence, and lost again by\nsin. He has \"_restored to you the years which the locust and\nthe caterpillar and the mildew and the palmer-worm hath\neaten_.\" [Footnote 102] Let, then, gratitude fill your heart,\nlet joy be written on your face, and let holy resolves for the\nfuture correspond to the mercy you have received.\n\n    [Footnote 102: Joel ii. 25.]\n\n{358}\n\nYes, my brethren, Christ at His Sepulchre satisfies the intellect\nand heals the conscience--and He also silences another cry of\nhuman woe. It is that of which the prophet spoke when he said:\n\"_A voice was heard of lamentation, of mourning and weeping,\nRachel weeping for her children and refused to be comforted,\nbecause they are not_.\" [Footnote 103]\n\n    [Footnote 103: Jer. xxxi. 15.]\n\nOh! it is hard to see one we love die, but is it not harder to\nour sensitive nature to bury them? That makes us feel what we\nhave lost. Reason tells us that the soul is immortal, but we need\nsomething more for our comfort. The heart asks, \"What is to\nbecome of the body that I loved so much?\" Talk of the lifeless\nand speechless corpse. It is not lifeless and speechless to me.\nThose cold lips smile the old smile on me, and whisper in my ear\na thousand words of kindness. And oh, to part with that! To lose\neven that sad comfort! To have the body of the dead taken away\nfrom us, is not that a grief? Such was Mary Magdalene's sorrow.\n\"_They have taken away my Lord out of the Sepulchre, and I know\nnot where they have laid Him_.\" [Footnote 104]\n\n    [Footnote 104: St. John xx. 2.]\n\nShe could bear any thing but that. She had borne up at our Lord's\ndeath. It was a bitter thing, but then she stood at the foot of\nthe cross on which He hung, and she could look up at Him and see\nHim. She had borne up on Friday evening, for then she was busy\npreparing her spices and ointments. She had borne up on Saturday,\nfor she was thinking all day of her visit to the grave next\nmorning. But on Sunday, to go and find His body gone--never\nagain to look upon those lips that had spoken peace to her soul;\nnever again to kiss with affection those sacred feet,--oh, this\nwas too much. And Mary stood at the Sepulchre weeping. But lo!\nwhat voice is that which speaks: \"_Woman, why weepest\nthou?_\" It is the voice of Jesus himself, of Jesus whom she\nmourns. Himself, flesh and blood, the very Jesus whom she had\nknown and loved.\n{359}\nSo, my brethren, as you weep at the graves of your friends, those\nvery friends stand near you and say, \"Why weepest thou?\" Weep not\nfor me. Weep not for me, childless mother! Weep not for me, my\norphan child! Weep not for me, my sorrowing friend! Leave my body\nawhile in the grave. It is not dead but sleeps. \"_For I know\nthat my Redeemer liveth, and in the last day I shall arise out of\nthe earth. And I shall be clothed again with my skin and in my\nflesh I shall see my God: Whom I myself shall see, and my eyes\nshall behold, and not another's_.\" [Footnote 105]\n\n    [Footnote 105: Job xix. 25.]\n\nTouch me not yet: wait awhile, and you shall see my hands and\nfeet, that it is I myself. \"_For as in Adam all die, so also in\nChrist all shall be made alive. But every one in his own order;\nthe first fruits Christ, then they that are of Christ, who have\nbelieved in His coming_.\" [Footnote 106]\n\n    [Footnote 106: I. Cor. xv. 22.]\n\nStrange it is that our comfort and joy should come out of the\ngrave. But so it is. By the resurrection of Christ all our woes\nare healed. Our new life springs from the sepulchre of Christ.\nChrist is risen  we believe. Christ is risen; we are pardoned.\nChrist is risen; death loses its power to separate Christians.\nMourn then no longer, my brethren, it is Easter. Believe, and\nrejoice. Forsake your sins, and rejoice. Bury your dead in\nChrist, and rejoice in hope. The former things are passed away;\nall things are become new. \"_The winter is now passed; the rain\nis over and gone. The flowers have appeared; the time of pruning\nis come; the voice of the dove is heard in our land_.\"\n[Footnote 107]\n\n    [Footnote 107: Cant. ii. 11, 12.]\n\nIt is Easter. This is that day \"which the Lord hath made.\" This\nis the Lord's Passover. The Red Sea is crossed: we are delivered\nout of Egypt, and are marching to the promised land. It is\nEaster. Mary has been at the sepulchre early this morning and has\nseen the Saviour. Jesus has appeared in the midst of the\ndisciples, saying, \"Peace be with you.\" Some have known Him in\nbreaking of bread. To some He has drawn near as they walked along\nand discoursed together. Some that were sad He has comforted. How\nhas it been with each of you?\n{360}\nHas this day been a day of joy to you? Has it awakened you to new\nlife, new hopes, new aspirations? or does it find you cold, dead\nto spiritual things, perhaps not even in the grace of God, and in\nlove with your sins! Oh, at least now awake to the hopes and\ndesires of a Christian. \"_The day is far spent; it draweth\ntoward evening_.\" Let not this glorious feast depart and leave\nyou as you are. While angels and the Son of God are abroad on the\nearth, scattering grace and consolation, do not you alone remain\nunblest. Claim your privileges as a Christian, and, risen with\nChrist in baptism, seek those things that are above, where Christ\nsitteth at the right hand of God.\n\nAnd you, faithful souls who have done your duty, who have found\nin this Feast a joy and comfort that passes understanding, know\nthat the gladness of Easter is but an earnest of another day, the\ngreat day of eternity, which will open on the morning of\nresurrection, and which knows no evening; which has no need of\nthe sun, for God is the light thereof; when God shall wipe away\nall tears; and death shall be no more; and sorrow and sighing\nshall flee away.\n\n--------------------------\n\n                 Sermon XV.\n\n\n    St. Mary Magdalene at the Sepulchre.\n\n\n             (Easter Sunday. [Footnote 108])\n\n    [Footnote 108: The substance of this sermon\n    is from St. Thomas of Villanova.]\n\n\n  \"But He rising early the first day of the week,\n  appeared first to Mary Magdalene.\"\n    --St. Mark XVI. 9.\n\n{361}\n\nSt. Mary Magdalene may be called the Saint of the Resurrection.\nShe is intimately associated with that event in the pages of the\nScriptures, and in the minds of Christians. Indeed, the Gospel\naccount of the Resurrection embraces an almost continuous record\nof the actions of this holy woman from the Crucifixion until\nEaster day; and I have thought that in tracing that record this\nmorning, while I am presenting to you the great mystery of\nto-day's celebration, I shall at the same time be pointing out to\nyou the means of obtaining those graces which our risen Lord has\ncome to impart. St. Mary Magdalene's history for these three days\nis a history of love. Every thing she does, every thing she says,\nis a proof of her love for our Lord. And the distinguishing\nfavors our Lord bestowed on her are a pledge of what we may look\nfor to-day, if we imitate her love.\n\nFirst, then, we are told, that when our Lord was taken down from\nthe cross, and laid in the new tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, she\nwent \"and saw how the body was laid.\" One might have thought it\nwould have satisfied her to stand by the cross, through those\nfearful hours, till it was an over, and then to have returned\nhome. No; love will see the last. She will follow on to the\ngrave. It is true the dead bodies of our friends feel not our\nkindness, but still we want them treated with tenderness and\ncare. So Mary follows the corpse to the burial, and, when it is\nlaid in the sepulchre, she looks in to see how it is laid. Not a\nsuperficial look: no, an earnest scrutinizing gaze. She sees how\nthe drooping head lays on its stony pillow, and how the pierced\nhands and feet are disposed. She makes a picture of it all in her\nown mind, and \"then returns to the city to prepare spices and\nointments.\" Now, there was no need at all of this. Nicodemus had\ncome, as soon as Pilate had given the disciples possession of our\nLord's body, and brought \"a mixture of myrrh and aloes, a hundred\npounds weight.\" But Mary does not care for that. Others may do\nwhat good works they choose, but she will not be cheated of hers.\nAnd what she does she will do prodigally, too. It was her way.\n{362}\nYou remember how, at the house of Simon, she brought her\nalabaster box of ointment, and broke it, and scattered it over\nthe feet of Jesus, so that the whole house was filled with the\nperfume; and how Judas found fault with her, saying, \"This\nointment might have been sold for more than three hundred pence,\nand given to the poor.\" Our Lord attempted then to excuse her\nextravagance, saying, \"She hath done this against the day of MY\nburial.\" No, she would do it then, and she would do it at His\nburial, too. Nicodemus and \"the holy women\" may bring as much as\nthey like, but she will do her part. Precious and costly shall\nher offering be as she can make it, not because He needs it, but\nbecause her heart is straitened to express its love. It is her\npleasure to spend and be spent for Him whom she loved; and all\nshe can do is too little.\n\nBut while Mary's love was impulsive and generous, it was\nobedient. \"She rested on the Sabbath day, according to the\ncommandment.\" Here is a test of true love. We want to do\nsomething very much; we think the motive is good; but there comes\na providential obstacle in the way. We cannot do it just now. We\ncannot do it just in the way we want. And too often our love is\nnot pure enough for this test. We murmur and complain, and commit\na thousand disobediences, and show how much self-love had to do\nwith our undertakings. It was not so with this holy woman. She\nwaited all the Sabbath day. It was God's command. The seventh day\nwas kept by the Jews with a ceremonial strictness that forbade\nall work; and she would keep the commandment to the letter. So\nnot a step would she take on the Sabbath, not even to the\nSaviour's grave. I am sure that Sabbath was a long one to her.\nNever was time's foot so heavy. Never did the hours go so slow.\nNever were the sacred services so tedious. A thousand times she\ngoes to the window to see if the shadows were getting long, and\neach time it seems to her that the sun is standing still. O\nloving heart! loving in what she did not do, as well as in what\nshe did. She will not take liberties with her conscience.\n{363}\nShe will not be officious or intrusive. She will not please\nherself on pretence of doing something for God. And so, though\nher heart is at the sepulchre all day, though she yearns to go\nthither, not a foot will she stir, not a hand will she lift, till\nshe knows that the fitting time is come. Her love was that\n_orderly charity_ of which the Holy Scripture speaks.\n[Footnote 109]\n\n    [Footnote 109: Cant. ii. 4.]\n\nBut the longest day has an end, and the end of that Sabbath at\nlast arrived. The sun sinks beneath the horizon. The evening\nsacrifice is over. Darkness falls upon the temple aisles, and the\nlast worshipper departs. By degrees the streets of Jerusalem\nbecome silent and deserted. It is night, a glorious night; for\nthe full paschal moon pours down its floods of light upon the\nholy city. And now the good woman, laden with her ointments and\nspices, sets out for the sepulchre. Alone, or only with a feeble\nwoman like herself, she goes out late at night, and whither? To a\ngarden outside the city, where a band of soldiers keep watch over\na grave, closed with a great stone, and sealed with the seal of\nstate. Is she not afraid? Docs she not run a thousand risks? Even\nsupposing she reaches the place in safety, will she be permitted\nto approach the grave? Who will roll the stone from the door? Who\nwill dare to break the seal? O holy boldness of love! which, when\na duty is to be done, asks no questions, and knows no\ndifficulties. O love! stronger than death, despising torments and\ncasting out fear! Here is the wisdom of the saints. Here is the\nsecret of all the great things that have been done for God. There\nis a higher wisdom and a higher prudence than the wisdom and the\nprudence of this world. There is a trust in God which is ever\nregarded as daring and enthusiastic, but which God justifies, and\nmen themselves are forced at last to applaud.\n\n{364}\n\nSuch were the sentiments with which St. Mary Magdalene went to\nthe sepulchre. But here a new circumstance demands our attention.\nShe set out, we are told, \"while it was yet dark.\" It was night,\nthe dead of night, when she left her house, and she did not reach\nthe sepulchre till \"the sun was risen.\" How did this happen? The\nplace in which our Lord was crucified was, as the evangelist tell\nus, \"near the city.\" And, one reason why Pilate suffered the\ndisciples to lay our Lord's body in Joseph's tomb was, because it\nwas close to the place of crucifixion, and the body could be laid\nthere before the Passover began. What, then, delayed St. Mary\nMagdalene so long? What is the meaning of this? so prompt and\neager in setting out, so tardy in arriving? Love, again, my\nbrethren, is the explanation. She had to pass through the city.\nHer road was what is called the \"Way of Sorrows,\" which Jesus\ntook when He was led to Calvary, and along which she had followed\nHim on Good Friday. How could she go fast? Every step brought its\nown memories. There was the house of Caiaphas. There the\njudgment-hall of Pilate. There the balcony at which Jesus had\nbeen presented to the crowd, clad in a purple robe and crowned\nwith thorns. There stood the pillar at which He had been\nscourged, and there was the spot at which he had fallen under the\nweight of His cross, and it was given to Simon of Cyrene to\ncarry. No, her course was a pilgrimage. Each step was a holy\nstation, at which she stopped awhile to pray and call to mind the\nevents of that dreadful morning. And when she came to Calvary,\nwhere the cross was still standing, and threw herself on the\nground to kiss the sod still wet with the Saviour's Blood, the\nhours pass by unheeded, for Jesus hangs there again, and Mary,\nHis mother, is by her side, and each tender word, each look of\nsorrow is again repeated. Love meditates. Love lingers in the\nfootsteps of its beloved, and the shortest, sweetest hours it\nfinds on earth are hours of prayer. What wonder, then, that Mary\nkneels, embracing the foot of the cross, in perfect forgetfulness\nof all else besides, until, as she raises her eyes to cast an\nadoring glance, she sees that the cross is gilded by the red\ngleam of the coming Easter sun--that it is already day. Thus\nrecalled to herself, she kisses that sacred tree for the last\ntime, tears herself from it, and hurries off to fulfil the work\nshe had in hand.\n\n{365}\n\nAnd she arrived at the sepulchre just in time, or rather God was\nthere to meet her to reward her love. For the moment she arrived,\n\"there was a great earthquake, and an angel of the Lord descended\nfrom heaven, and coming, rolled back the stone, and sat upon it.\nAnd his countenance was like lightning and his raiment as snow.\nAnd for fear of him the guards were struck with terror, and\nbecame as dead men. And the angel, answering, said to the woman:\n'Fear not you, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified.\nHe is not here, for He is risen, as He said. Come and see the\nplace where the Lord was laid. And go quickly, tell his disciples\nthat He is risen, and behold, He will go before you into Galilee.\nAnd they went out quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great\njoy, running to tell his disciples.' [Footnote 110]\n\n    [Footnote 110: St. Matt. xxviii. 2-8.]\n\nSee her running from the sepulchre as fast as she had so lately\nrun to it; for love easily changes its employment at the voice of\nits beloved. She had come to anoint the body of Jesus; there is\nno need of that now, for Jesus is alive; but still there is\nsomething to do for Jesus--to tell His disciples. Peter, James,\nJohn, and the other disciples are at home, sorrowful and fearful.\nHe whom they loved and trusted is no more; and they, whither\nshall they go? Besides this, there was an additional sorrow. They\nhad forsaken their good Master in the day of His distress; Peter\nhad even denied with an oath that he knew Him; and they now sat\ndepressed and anxious in that upper chamber in which so lately\nthey had eaten the Passover with Him. But He is alive! and Mary\nknows it! Shall she wait to see Him?\n{366}\nNo, she must go _quickly_ and tell His disciples. \"This\ncommandment have we from God, that He that loveth God, love his\nbrother also.\" [Footnote 111]\n\n    [Footnote 111: I. St. John iv. 21.]\n\nAnd Mary leaves the sepulchre, leaves Christ, to go and carry the\njoyful news to His afflicted brethren. With nimble feet, with\neager countenance, she returns to the city, seeks out the\nwell-known house, and appears in the midst of the sorrowing\ngroup, with the exclamation: \"Jesus is alive! He is risen from\nthe dead!\"\n\nAlas! poor Magdalene! \"Her words seemed to them as an idle tale.\"\nTo us, familiar with the doctrine and proofs of our Lord's\nResurrection, it is wonderful how slow the apostles were to\nbelieve it. No doubt, their slowness to believe is a benefit to\nus, because it was the occasion of multiplying the proofs.\nPerhaps, too, it was not unnatural; for faith does not come all\nat once. There is often a period between doubt and faith, a\nperiod of inconsistency; in which one is at one moment all\nChristian, and at another believes nothing. Certainly it was so\nwith the apostles on Easter Day, and Mary Magdalene seems to have\nshared their infirmity. The apostles, as soon as they had heard\nthe news that Christ has risen, set out for the sepulchre. When\nthey came to the place, they found indeed the grave open, and the\nlinen cloths, in which the Lord's body had been wrapped, lying in\nit, and the guard gone; but Him they saw not. Mary Magdalene\naccompanied them, and when she saw neither the Lord Himself, nor\nthe angel who had spoken to her, and when she saw the incredulous\nlooks of the disciples, she herself began to doubt. But though\nher faith was weak, her love was strong; and she stood at the\ndoor of the sepulchre, weeping. At least she will not give up the\nidea of finding the Lord's body, and carrying out her first\nintention of embalming it. So she stands at the sepulchre, and\nlooks in.\n{367}\nShe had looked in many times already; she had every corner of it\nby heart; but she looks in again. She will see the place where\nthe Lord lay, if she cannot see Himself: and lo! this time she\nsees a new sight. There are two angels, in white, sitting, one at\nthe head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had\nlain. Angels again! but this time not angels of fear, with a\nterrible countenance, as the first had been, but angels of\ncomfort and peace. And they spoke to her: \"Woman, why weepest\nthou? Why dost thou seek the living among the dead?\" One would\nhave thought it was something to see an angel, and hear his\nvoice: but this good woman makes very little of it. No angel will\nsatisfy her now. \"They have taken away my Lord,\" she replies,\n\"and I know not where they have laid Him.\" Is not this grief\nenough to have lost a Lord, a Friend, a Saviour, such as Jesus\nwas, and not even to have so much as His lifeless body left on\nwhich to lavish her endearments. O my brethren, no created thing\ncan satisfy the soul. I say not, though we had all the treasures\nof earth, but though we had all the treasures of heaven; though\nangels and saints were ours; though we had visions and\nrevelations; yet all would be nothing if we had not God. Heaven\nwould be hell without Him, and at the very gate of Paradise the\nsoul would weep and say, \"They have taken away my Lord.\"\n\nBut at this point a new actor appears on the scene. A man\napproaches, and addresses Magdelene in the same words that the\nangels had used: \"Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?\"\nShe takes him for the gardener, and suddenly a suspicion seizing\nher that he might know something of the treasure she had lost,\nturned upon him and said: \"Sir, if thou hast borne Him away, tell\nme where thou hast laid Him; and I will take Him away.\" She does\nnot answer his question. She does not tell him whom she is\nseeking. For, as St. Bernard observes, \"Love imagines everyone is\nas full of the object of its love as it is itself;\" and so she\nsays: \"If thou hast borne _Him_ away, tell me where thou\nhast laid _Him_, and I will take _Him_ away.\"\n{368}\nNo need to mention His Name. All things knew it. The sun\npublishes it. It is written on the leaves. The wind utters it. It\nis the Name that is above every name--the Name at which every\nknee must bow. \"Tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will go\nand carry Him away.\" What, you! a weak woman! Can you carry away\na heavy corpse? Yes, she can; and they that doubt it do not know\nhow strong love is, how great a weight it can carry, what hard\nthings it can do, and how it makes a man do what is above nature,\nor, rather, how, with faith and grace, it brings out the power\nthat is in these human hearts of ours, and awakens their latent\nenergies.\n\nAnd now Jesus can restrain Himself no longer; for Jesus it is who\nnow speaks with her. She had charged Him with taking away the\nSacred Body, and she was right. He it was who had taken it from\nthe grave. \"I have power to lay it down,\" said He, \"and I have\npower to take it up again. [Footnote 112]\n\n    [Footnote 112: St. John x. 18.]\n\nYes, it was Jesus. He had seen her tears, listened to her\ncomplaint, watched her efforts, and now the time had come when He\nwould disclose Himself to her. He said to her: \"Mary!\" Oh! what\nvoice is that? What sweet and tender memories it wakes up! The\nhome of Bethany, the banqueting-hall of Simon, Mount Calvary, all\nare brought before her. She turns and looks keenly at the\nspeaker, and one look is enough. It is He, the same--the very\nsame who spoke pardon and peace to her soul, when first, a guilty\nwoman, she had washed His feet with her tears. It is Jesus. He\nlives again. And, with her accustomed salutation, she kneels\nbefore Him, and says: \"Rabboni!\" which is to say, Master!\n\n{369}\n\nHow much is expressed in this brief interview. \"Mary!\" It is a\nword of gentle reproach. Mary, dost thou not remember My\nwords--My promise--that I would rise again? Mary,--dost thou not\nbelieve My angels, bearing testimony to My Resurrection? Mary,\nwhose brother Lazarus I have raised from the grave, dost thou not\nthink that I am as powerful to rise from the dead as to restore\nlife to others? \"_Mary!_\" It is a term of affection. As much\nas to say: I am risen; but I am still thy friend. I do not forget\nthe past, and now, on this glorious morning of My Resurrection, I\ntell thee that I know thee by thy name, and love thee with the\nsame love with which I loved thee in the days of My sorrow'. And,\n\"_Master!_\" is her fitting reply. \"Master of my heart, whom\nonly I have loved!\" \"Master of my faith, whom now' I acknowledge\nas indeed risen from the dead!\" \"Master, whose Truth and Power I\nhave been so slow to understand!\" \"Master, whom all my future\nlife shall honor and obey!\" O happy Magdalene! Her search is\nended. Her tears are dried. O joy beyond all thought! She has\nseen Him, and talked with Him!\n\nO my brethren, need I say more? Has not St. Magdalene preached an\nEaster sermon? Love is the way to keep this feast. Love is the\nway to faith and joy. It is the way to faith, for our Lord says:\n\"If any man shall do the will of God he shall know of the\ndoctrine, whether it is of God.\" [Footnote 113]\n\n    [Footnote 113: St. John vii. 17.]\n\nIt is said of Magdalene that she loved much because she was\npardoned much; I say she believed much because she loved much.\nAnd love is the way to joy. Who are they that are truly happy on\nthis day? They who with Magdalene have sought Jesus; they who by\na true confession and a devout communion have united themselves\nto the risen Saviour, and conversed with him in sweet\nfamiliarity. For to them our Lord speaks and says: \"Fear not, I\nhave called thee by thy name, thou art mine. I am the Lord, thy\nSaviour, thy Redeemer, the mighty One of Jacob. Behold My hands\nand feet, that it is I Myself! Fear not, Israel my chosen, and\nJacob mine elect, for I am He that liveth and was dead, and have\nthe keys of hell and death. And behold! I am alive for ever\nmore!\"\n\n-----------------------------\n\n{370}\n\n              Sermon XVI.\n\n  The Preacher, The Organ Of The Holy Ghost.\n\n      (Fourth Sunday After Easter.)\n\n  \"When He the Spirit of Truth shall come,\n  He will lead you into all truth.\"\n    St. John XVI. 13.\n\n\nI need hardly say that the words \"_all truth_\" in this\npromise mean all truth relating to our salvation. It is no part\nof our Lord's plan to teach us the truths of natural science. He\nleaves us to discover these by our own intelligence. He comes to\nteach us faith and morals--what we are to believe, and what we\nare to do, in order to be saved. He did this while He was on\nearth by His conversations with His disciples, and by His public\nsermons to the Jews; but He promised that this work should be\ncarried on after His death more extensively and systematically.\nThus, in the words of the text: \"When He the Spirit of Truth\nshall come He will lead you into all truth.\" [Footnote 114] And\nagain: \"_The Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, Whom the Father will\nsend in My name, He will teach you all things and will bring all\nthings to your mind whatsoever I shall have said to\nyou_.\"[Footnote 115] It cannot but be a matter of interest to\ninquire in what manner this promise has been fulfilled.\n\n    [Footnote 114: St. John xvi. 13.]\n\n    [Footnote 115: St. John xiv. 26.]\n\nI answer, the Holy Ghost leads us into all truth necessary to our\nsalvation by the public preaching of the Word of God. If we\nexamine our Lord's words attentively, we shall be led to the\nconclusion that the ministry of the Holy Ghost to which He\nalludes is a public ministry. His own ministry was a public one,\nand in promising that the Holy Ghost should carry it on and\ncomplete it, He leads us to anticipate that the ministry of the\nHoly Ghost would also be public.\n{371}\nAnd His own subsequent language shows that this is really so, and\nacquaints us with the way in which this ministry is to be\nexercised. Just before our Lord's Ascension He met the Apostles\non a mountain in Galilee, and said to them: \"_All power is\ngiven to Me in heaven and in earth. Go ye, therefore, and teach\nall nations; baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the\nSon and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things\nwhatsoever I have commanded you; and behold I am with you all\ndays, even to the consummation of the world_.\" [Footnote 116]\nAugust and extensive as this commission was, it did not by itself\nqualify the Apostles for their great work. They were to wait in\nJerusalem \"till they were endued with power from on high.\" This\n\"power\" was the Holy Ghost which actually did descend on them at\nthe feast of Pentecost. Here we find a company of men\ncommissioned by Christ to teach the world in His name, and\nempowered by the Holy Ghost for that purpose. We find these men\nafterward everywhere claiming to be the organs of the Holy Ghost.\nThus, at the council of Jerusalem, they did not hesitate to\npublish their decrees with this preface: \"_It hath seemed good\nto the Holy Ghost and to us_.\" [Footnote 117] And St. Paul\ntells the bishops of Ephesus, that they were placed over the\nChurch \"_by the Holy Ghost_.\" [Footnote 118]\n\n    [Footnote 116: St. Matt. xxviii. 18-20.]\n\n    [Footnote 117: Acts xv. 28.]\n\n    [Footnote 118: Acts xx. 28.]\n\nNow, who does not see here the realization and fulfilment of the\ngreat promise of Christ which I have quoted as my text? That\nteaching of the Holy Ghost which was to follow His, which was to\nbring all things to remembrance which He had said, which was to\nabide forever, and which was to make known all necessary truth,\nwas the teaching of the Apostles and their successors. It is the\nteaching of the Holy Ghost, because the Holy Ghost moves them to\npreach, furnishes them with the rule of their doctrine, and gives\nthem their warrant and authority. In this sense it is that our\nLord's promise is to be understood. It is a promise that reaches\nto all time.\n{372}\nIt concerns us here and now. It assures us that at this day, far\nremoved as we are from the times of Christ, across so many\ncenturies, the Holy Ghost through the agency of the Church still\nbrings to us the echoes of His words. He does this in the most\nsolemn and authoritative way by those great decisions of the\nChurch to which He sets the seal of His Infallibility; but he\ndoes it in less solemnity, less authoritatively, but more\nfrequently, by the preaching of each individual priest. It is for\nthis end that the priest is ordained. He is consecrated and set\napart, not merely to say Mass, not merely to receive the\nconfessions of penitent sinners and absolve them, but to publish\nthe Word of God; and He is empowered by the Holy Ghost for this\nvery purpose. The Christian preacher is no mere lecturer, but an\nauthorized agent and messenger of God, to deliver to the people\nthe will of God. It is chiefly by the ordinance of preaching, in\nits various forms, that the Holy Ghost carries on the work of\ninstructing men's faith, and regulating their morals.\n\nAnd here, I think, is to be found the real answer to a\nmisconception of our principles so common among Protestants. It\nis very commonly said and believed that the Catholic Church\nwishes to keep the people in ignorance of the Scriptures. Now,\nthis is not true. The Church does not wish to keep the Scriptures\nfrom the people. On the contrary, in all cases in which they are\nlikely to prove beneficial she approves and encourages their use;\nbut she does not regard the reading of the Scriptures as the\nnecessary, or even as the ordinary mode of familiarizing the\npeople with the Word of God. Thousands have gone to heaven who\nnever read one page of the Bible. St. Iren\u00e6us instances whole\nnations who professed and practised Christianity in entire\nignorance of the Divine Records. How many people in every\ngeneration are unable to read. Now, God has not made a twofold\nsystem of salvation; one for the ignorant and one for the\neducated.\n{373}\nNo: according to the Catholic idea, for rich and poor, for\nlearned and unlearned alike, there is one way of truth--the\nliving voice of the preacher. This is God's way. This is the\nVoice of the Holy Ghost. This is the publication of the Word of\nGod. This is the sword of the Spirit. The decree has never been\nrevoked: \"_The priest's lips shall keep knowledge; and the\npeople shall seek the law at his mouth; because he is the\nmessenger of the Lord of Hosts_.\" [Footnote 119]\n\n    [Footnote 119: Mal. ii. 7.]\n\nBut an objection may be drawn against this high view of the\nordinance of preaching, from the infirmities of the preacher\nhimself. It may be said: You tell us that the Holy Ghost speaks\nby the voice of the preacher, yet the preacher is but a fallible\nman, ignorant of many things, liable to be deceived himself, not\nfree from passions which may affect his judgment. May he not\nfalsify his message? May He not dishonor it? I do not deny the\nfact on which this objection is founded. Undoubtedly, the\npreacher may be unfaithful in the delivery of his message. In the\nCatholic Church, however, the watchfulness of discipline, and the\ngeneral acquaintance on the part of the people with the standards\nof faith and practice, will prevent any very serious error\nfinding its way into the public teaching of the priest. Who\nsupposes, for instance, that any Catholic congregation would\ntolerate from the pulpit a denial of Transubstantiation, or the\ntrue Divinity of our Lord, or the necessity of good works? But\nwithin a certain limit, no doubt, there may be much imperfection\nin the preacher, much that detracts from the purity, the majesty,\nand the dignity of the Word of God. What then? I affirm,\nnevertheless, that preaching is the great instrument of the Holy\nGhost for the conversion of souls. Strange, that we should start\nback at every new manifestation of a law that goes all through\nChristianity, and even through all the arrangements of the\nnatural world.\n{374}\nIn every department of human life, God makes man His\nrepresentative--man fallible and weak. The judge on the bench\nrepresents God's Wisdom and Equity, though his decisions are\noften far enough from that Divine pattern. The magistrate\nrepresents God's authority, though in his hands that authority is\nsometimes made the warrant for tyranny and oppression. So, in\nlike manner, the preacher represents the Holy Ghost, though he\ndoes not always represent Him worthily either in manner or\nmatter.\n\nIt is part of a plan. He who chooses man, sinful like ourselves,\nand encompassed with infirmities, to convey His pardon to the\nguilty, chooses as the organ of the Eternal Wisdom, \"_holy,\none, manifold, subtle, eloquent, undefiled, having all power,\noverseeing all things, the Brightness of Eternal Light, the\nunspotted mirror of God's Majesty_ [Footnote 120] --man, with\nstammering lips, with a feeble intellect and an impure heart.\n\n    [Footnote 120: Wisd. vii. 22-26.]\n\nAnd there is a reason in this plan. When the Church goes out to\nevangelize a new and strange people, she seeks, as soon as\npossible, to secure some of the natives to aid her in her work,\nwho know the speech, and the manners, and the habits of thought,\nof those with whom they have to deal. No doubt her old, tried\nmissionaries could furnish an instruction which would be more\ncomplete in itself, but the words of the neophyte will be better\nunderstood and received. So God, when He speaks to man, chooses\nas His instrument one who understands the dialect of earth. An\nangel would be a messenger answering better to His dignity, but\nless to our necessities; so He considers our welfare alone, and\npasses by Raphael, \"who is one of the daily angels,\" and Michael,\n\"who is one of the chief princes,\" and Gabriel, who is the\n_strength of God_, and chooses Moses, who was \"slow of\nspeech,\" and Jeremias, who was diffident as a child, and Amos,\nwho was but a herdsman, following the flock--to utter His will to\nman.\n{375}\nThe human alloy in the Divine Word, no doubt, makes it less\naccurate, but it makes it more easily understood. Oh! it is a\nmercy of God thus to disguise Himself and dilute His word. The\nchildren of Israel said to Moses: \"_Speak thou to us, and we\nwill hear. Let not the Lord speak any more to us, lest we\ndie_.\" [Footnote 121] Who could look upon the Lord and live?\nWho could listen to His voice in its untempered majesty and not\nbe afraid? \"_The word of God is more penetrating than any\ntwo-edged sword, reaching unto the division of the soul and the\nspirit, of the joints also, and the marrow_.\" [Footnote 122]\n\n    [Footnote 121: Exod. xx. 19.]\n\n    [Footnote 122: Heb. iv. 12.]\n\nDo not be displeased, then, because God has sent to thee a\nmessenger like thyself, one who speaks thy language, who shares\nthy ignorance and thy frailties; pardon him, forgive him his\ndefects, strain your ear to detect in his lowly language some\nnotes of that great message of Eternal Truth and Infinite Love,\nthe story so old yet ever new--the love of Christ, the will of\nGod, the end of man, grace, holiness, and eternity, those things\non which depend our happiness here and our salvation hereafter.\n\nBut here I feel as if I ought to add a word or two of\nexplanation. When I say that the Holy Ghost teaches by the voice\nof the preacher, I do not mean to assert that He teaches in no\nother way. A very great part of the preacher's message consists\nof truths which are already written by the finger of God on every\nman's natural conscience. A preacher is not required to make us\nunderstand that it is wrong to break the precepts of the moral\nlaw. Natural reason, the light that enlighteneth every man that\ncomes into this world, tells us that. I could not but be struck\nthe other day, as I passed two young men in the street, at\nhearing the honest protest with which one of them met the\nsophistry in which his companion was evidently trying to\nindoctrinate him: \"What!\" said he, \"you don't mean to say it\nisn't a sin to get drunk!\"\n{376}\nIndeed, it is seldom that men justify themselves for actions that\nare plainly wrong. They are still too full of the Holy Ghost for\nthat. Passion corrupts their will, but does not always darken\ntheir understanding. They know the right while they pursue the\nwrong. But this circumstance does not make the office of the\npreacher unnecessary; by no means. On the contrary, it is from\nthis that the preacher derives a great part of his power. What he\nsays finds an echo in the hearts of his hearers. One of the\nstrongest things that St. Paul said in his defence before Agrippa\nwas the appeal: \"_King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I\nknow that thou believest_.\" [Footnote 123]\n\n    [Footnote 123: Acts xxvi. 27.]\n\nAnd so when the preacher is speaking before a congregation, of\njustice, of temperance, of judgment to come, do you know what it\nis that gives him such boldness and daring? My brethren, I will\ntell you a secret. Perhaps you may sometimes have felt surprise\nwhen you have heard us, who have so many reasons for feeling\ndiffident before you, so keen in denouncing your sins, so\nvehement in urging you to your duties. Are we not afraid of\nwounding your pride, of alienating your affections? No: it is in\nyour hearts that we have our strength. We would not dare to speak\nso unless we knew that we had a powerful ally in your\nhearts--your better nature, your reason, your conscience, the\ndivinity that is within you. It is the greatest mistake in the\nworld to suppose that it is unnecessary to tell people what they\nknow already. Half the good advice that is given in the world\nconsists of the most commonplace and familiar truths, but will\nanyone say for that reason that it is useless? No: the fact is,\nit is a great help to hear our own convictions uttered outside of\nus. A man believes more, is more conscious of his belief, his\nbelief becomes more distinct, more serviceable, when he hears it\nfrom another's lips.\n{377}\nWhat a mercy of God it is, then, in a world like this, where\nthere are so many temptations, where there are so many evil\nexamples, so much to draw off the mind from God, where it is so\neasy to obscure the line between right and wrong, that there\nshould be an authoritative voice lifted up from time to time in\nwarning! What a mercy, in those dreadful moments when the\nconflict rages high between passion and principle, and the soul,\nweary of the strife, is on the point of surrender, to be\nre-enforced by God Almighty's aid--to hear His voice amid the\nstrife, saying: \"_This is the way; walk ye in it!_\"\n[Footnote 124]\n\n    [Footnote 124: Isaiah xxx. 21.]\n\nAnd then it must be remembered, too, that there is much of the\npreacher's message that is not known to man's natural reason,\nconsisting of mysteries deep and high, which at the best can be\nknown only in part; and it is apparent how much it must depend on\nthe preacher's office to keep these mysteries in men's minds, and\nto secure for them a place in men's intelligence and affections.\nThe Christian Faith has always, from the beginning, been\nsurrounded by adversaries who have attacked it, now on one side,\nnow on another. We are apt to think it our peculiar misfortune to\nhear continually the doctrines of our faith disputed; but in fact\nsuch has been, more or less, the trial of each generation of\nChristian believers. Now, amid such ceaseless controversies, what\nmeans has our Lord left to protect and defend His people from\ndoubt and error? The ministry of preaching. Therefore, says the\nHoly Scripture: \"_Some He gave to be Apostles, and some\nprophets, and others evangelists, and others pastors and\nteachers, that we may not now be children, tossed to and fro, and\ncarried about with every wind of doctrine, in the wickedness of\nmen, in craftiness by which they lie in wait to deceive._\"\n[Footnote 125]\n\n     [Footnote 125: Eph. xi. 11-14.]\n\n{378}\n\nIt is the office of the preacher to declare Christian doctrine,\nto defend and explain it, to show its consistency and excellence,\nto answer objections against it, and thus to add to the power of\nhereditary faith the force of personal conviction. The Church has\nalways understood this, and therefore, whenever a new heresy\narises, she sends out a new phalanx of preachers to confront it\nby good and sound doctrine. And the enemies of the Church have\nalways understood it, and therefore, in times of persecution,\nwhen they wished to deal the Christian faith a deadly blow, they\nsought in the first place, by the murder of bishop and priest, to\nsilence the voice of the teacher. It was one of the last woes\nthreatened against Jerusalem that the people should seek in vain\nfor a vision of the prophet, and that the law should perish from\nthe priests; [Footnote 126] and when in the Christian Church\nthere shall be heard no more the message of truth, when there\nshall be no more reproof, no more instruction in justice, the\niniquity shall come in like a flood; then shall be the\nabomination of desolation, and the time of Antichrist.\n\n    [Footnote 126: Ezech. vii. 26.]\n\nGreat, then, my brethren, is the dignity of preaching. It is God\nspeaking on Mount Sinai. It is Jesus preaching on the Mount. It\nis the Divine Sower scattering the seeds of truth and virtue. The\nHoly Ghost has not left the world. In every Christian church, at\nevery Mass, the day of Pentecost is renewed. See, the priest has\nclothed himself to celebrate the unbloody sacrifice. He has\nascended the altar. Already the clouds of incense hang over the\nmercy-seat, and hymns of praise ascend;--but he stops, he turns\nto the people. Why does he interrupt the Mass? Has he seen a\nvision? Has an angel spoken to him, as of old to the prophet\nZacharias? Yes, he has seen a vision. He has heard a voice. A\nfire is in his heart. A living coal hath touched his lips, the\nBreath of the Spirit hath passed over him, and he speaks as he is\nmoved by the Holy Ghost. Listen to him, for he is a prophet. He\nspeaks to thee from God. What is thy misery? What is thy sorrow?\nWhat is thy trial?\n{379}\nNow thou shalt find relief. Are you in doubt about religious\ntruth? Listen, and you shall find the answer to those doubts. Are\nyou sorely tempted to sin? Now God will give you an oracle to\nstrengthen you. Are you distressed and suffering? Have you a\nsecret sorrow? Now you shall receive an answer of comfort. Do you\nwish to know how to advance in God's love? Now the way shall be\nmade plain before your face. O blessed truth! God has not left\nHimself without a witness. The world is not to have it all its\nown way. The teachings of Satan are not to go on all the week\nuncontradicted. The dream of the heathen, that there are sacred\nspots on earth whence Divine Oracles issue, is fulfilled. The\nChair of Truth is set up for the enlightenment of the nations.\n\"_The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light;\nto them that dwelt in the region of the shadow of death light is\nsprung up.\" \"The earth is filled with the knowledge of the Lord,\nas the waters cover the sea_.\" [Footnote 127]\n\n    [Footnote 127: Isaias ix. 2, 19.]\n\nThis subject suggests some very practical reflections. I am not\nunmindful that some of them concern the preacher himself. I do\nnot forget that the thought of the high dignity of his office\ncalls for the greatest purity of purpose and diligence of\npreparation; but while I remember this, suffer me also to remind\nyou of your duty in listening to the preacher. St. Paul praises\nthe Thessalonians because they listened to his words, not as the\nwords of man, but as the _words of God_. In the sense in\nwhich the teaching of an uninspired man can be so designated,\nhave you thus listened to the preacher's words? Has it been a\ntask to you to listen to the sermon? Have you sought only to be\namused? Have you been critical and captious? Or, acknowledging\nthe truth you have heard, have you been careless about putting it\nin practice? Oh, how much the preaching of God's word might\nprofit us, if we brought the right dispositions to the hearing of\nit!\n{380}\nIf we came to Church, eager to know more of God, with a single\nheart desirous to nourish our souls with His Truth, what progress\nwe should make! A single sermon has before now converted men. St.\nAnthony, hearing but a single text, embraced a saintly life. If\nwe had such dispositions, if each Sunday found us diligent\nhearers of God's Word, anxious to get some new thoughts about\nHim, some new motive to love Him, some new practical lesson, some\nnew help against sin, it would not be long before the effect\nwould be visible in us all. We should make progress in the\nknowledge of our religion. The devil and the world would assail\nus in vain. Scandals and sins would become rare. Heavenly virtues\nwould spring up. Piety would become strong and manly. And that\nwhich the prophet describes would be fulfilled: \"_The Lord will\nfill thy soul with brightness. And thou shalt be like a\nwell-watered garden, and like a fountain of water, whose waters\nshall not fail_.\" [Footnote 128]\n\n    [Footnote 128: Isaias lviii. 2.]\n\n------------------------------\n\n            Sermon XVII.\n\n\n        The Two Wills In Man\n\n    (Fourth Sunday After Easter.)\n\n\n    \"The spirit indeed is willing,\n    but the flesh is weak.\"\n      --St. Matt. XXVI. 41.\n\n\nThe word \"flesh\" here does not mean the body, but the lower or\nsensitive part of the soul in which the fleshly appetites reside.\nOur Lord is warning St. Peter of the necessity of prayer in order\nto meet the temptation which was coming upon him, and He tells\nhim not to trust to the willingness of his spirit, that is, his\ngood intentions and resolutions, because he had an inferior\nnature which might easily be excited to evil, and which in the\nhour of temptation might, without a special grace of God, drag\nhis will into sin.\n{381}\nWhat our Lord is declaring, then, is the fact attested by\nuniversal experience, that there are in the heart of man two\nconflicting principles--inordinate passion on one side, and\nreason and grace on the other. This truth, though so well known,\ntouches our happiness and salvation too closely not to possess at\nall times an interest and importance for each one of us; and I\npropose, therefore, to make it the subject of my remarks this\nmorning.\n\nIn the first place, then, what is the source and nature of the\nconflict thus indicated by our Lord? Whence does it arise? How\ndoes it come to pass that there are those two principles within\nus? How does it happen that every child of man finds himself\ndrawn, more or less, two contrary ways, toward virtue and toward\nvice, toward God and toward the devil, toward Heaven and to-ward\nHell? The answer commonly given is, that this conflict we feel\nwithin us comes from the fall, that it is the fruit of original\nsin. But the fall, according to the Catholic doctrine, introduced\nno new principle into our nature, infused no poison into it, and\ndeprived it of none of its essential elements. We must look\nfarther back, then, than the fall for the radical source of this\nconflict; and we find it in the very essential constitution of\nour nature. Man, in his very nature, is twofold. He is created\nand finite, yet he has a divine and eternal destiny. He has a\nbody and a soul, and therefore he must have all the passions\nwhich are necessary to his animal and sensible life, as well as\nthe intellectual and moral powers which are necessary to his\nspiritual life. Here, then, we have, in the very idea of man's\nnature, the possibility of a conflict. We have two different\nprinciples, which it is conceivable might come into collision.\nMan's appetites and passions, no less than his reason, are given\nto him by God, are good, are necessary, but since his appetites\nand passions are blind principles, it is conceivable that they\n_might_ demand gratifications which would not be in\naccordance with his reason and spiritual nature.\n{382}\nAs human nature was at first constituted by the Almighty, any\nactual collision between these parts was prevented by a gift,\nwhich is called \"the gift of integrity,\" a gift which was no\nessential part of our nature, but was conferred on it by mere\ngrace, and which bound together the various powers of the soul in\na wondrous harmony, so that the movements of passion were always\nin submission to reason. When Adam sinned, this grace was\nwithdrawn from him; and since it was no necessary part of our\nnature, since it was given of mere grace, it was withdrawn from\nthe whole human race. Hence men now find in themselves an actual\nconflict between the higher and lower parts of the soul. In a\ncomplicated piece of machinery, if a bolt or belt is broken that\nbound it together, the parts clash. Each part may in itself\nremain unchanged, but it no longer acts harmoniously with the\nother parts. So in fallen man, the bolt that braced the soul\ntogether is broken, and the powers of the soul clash together.\nThe passions, the will, the reason, all, in themselves, remain as\nthey were, undepraved; but they are no longer in harmony\ntogether, and man finds himself weakened by an intestine\nconflict. This, together with the loss of supernatural grace and\na supernatural destiny, is the evil which, according to Catholic\ntheology, accrued to man by the fall.\n\nThis conflict, then, which we find within us; this clamor of the\nlower nature against the higher; this propensity of the passions\nto rebel against reason--in other words, this proneness to sin,\nwhich is the universal experience of humanity, does not prove\nthat we have lost any constituent part of our nature, that there\nis any thing positively vicious in us, nor does it prove that we\nare hateful to God. It proves, indeed, that we are not divine,\nthat we are not angels, that we are not in the condition of human\nnature before Adam's transgression; it proves that a source of\nweakness, inherent in our nature, has been developed by the fall,\nthat we need grace; but it gives not the slightest reason for\nsupposing that our manhood has been wrecked, that the will is not\nfree, that the reason of man has been extinguished, or that the\npassions are not in themselves good, and have not their\nlegitimate sphere and exercise.\n{383}\nSo true is this, that this propensity to sin remains even in the\nbaptized. Baptism does a great deal for a man. It takes away\noriginal sin, by supplying that justifying grace which our race\nforfeited in Adam. It restores to man his supernatural destiny.\nIn the language of the Council of Trent, it renders the\nnewly-baptized \"innocent, immaculate, pure, harmless, and beloved\nof God, an heir of God, and a joint heir with Christ, so that\nthere is nothing whatever to retard his entrance into heaven.\"\nBut there is one thing it does not do. It does not remove the\npropensity of the passions to rebel. And the Council uses this\nfact--that concupiscence remains in the baptized--to prove that\nconcupiscence, or the propensity to evil, cannot itself be sin;\nand enforces its conclusion by the seal of its infallibility and\nthe warrant of its censures, saying: \"If anyone is of the\ncontrary sentiment\" (that is, declares that the incentive to sin,\nwhich remains in the baptized, hath in it the true and proper\nnature of sin), \"let him be anathema.\" [Footnote 129]\n\n    [Footnote 129: Sess. V. Decree on Original Sin.]\n\nThus, Christianity explains the origin of this conflict in the\nhuman heart, in a manner agreeable to reason and human\nexperience. But it does more. It reveals to us the purpose of\nthis conflict. Why does our Lord leave us subject to this strife?\nThe same holy Council I have quoted already, answers distinctly;\nthis incentive to sin is left in the soul \"_to be wrestled\nwith_.\" The state of the case is this: The passions desire to\nbe gratified without waiting for the sanction of reason,\nsometimes even in defiance of reason. Morally speaking, this is\nno evil. The passions are but blind instincts; it is the province\nof the will to restrain them in their proper limits, and to help\nher in this work she has reason and the grace of God.\n{384}\nIf she fails to do her work, then she sins. Whenever sin is\ncommitted, it is the will that commits it. It is only the will\nthat can sin. The sin lies not in the inordinate desire, but in\nthe will's not resisting that desire. The will is the viceroy of\nGod in the heart, appointed to keep that kingdom in peace. And\nherein lies the root of Christian morality, the secret of\nsanctification, and the essence of human probation. We speak of\noutward actions of sin; but all sin goes back to the will. There\nwas the treason. \"_Out of the heart_,\" says our Blessed\nLord, \"_proceed murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts,\nfalse testimonies, blasphemies_.\" [Footnote 130]\n\n    [Footnote 130: St. Matt. xv. 19.]\n\nEach black deed is done in the secret chamber of the heart before\nthe hand proceeds to execute it. Each false, impure, and\nblasphemous word is whispered first by the will before the lips\nutter it. Yes, man's heart is the battle-field. There is the\nscene of action. We speak sometimes of a man's being alone or\nbeing idle: why, a man is never alone; never idle. He may,\nindeed, be silent, his hands may be still, no one may be near\nhim; but in that kingdom within great events are going on all the\ntime. Angels and saints are there. The armies of Heaven and the\narmies of Hell meet there. Attack and repulse, parley and\ndefiance, truce and surrender, stratagem and treason, victory and\ndefeat--are things of daily occurrence there.\n\nOf course, this is all very well known, very simple, very\nelementary, but yet there are some who never seem to understand\nit. They do not understand it who confound temptation with sin.\nThis is a mistake often made, and by those too who ought to know\nbetter. If a man feels a strong inclination to evil, if an evil\nthought passes through his mind, or a doubt against the faith\nassails him, immediately he imagines that he has fallen under\nGod's displeasure.\n{385}\nTo state such an error is to refute it. Never, my brethren, fall\nin to this mistake. No: between temptation and sin there lies all\nthat gulf that separates Heaven from Hell. Let the devil fill\nyour mind with the most horrid thoughts, let all your lower\nnature be in rebellion, let you have temptations to unbelief, to\ndespair, to blasphemy; yet if that queenly will of yours keeps\nher place, if she stand steadfast and immovable, not only have\nyou not sinned, but you are purer, more spiritual, more full of\nfaith and reverence than if you had had no such trial. When St.\nAgnes was before the heathen judge, he ordered her to be sent to\nthe stews and thrown among harlots, but she answered: \"I shall\ncome out of that place virgin as I entered it.\" Yes, all the\npowers of earth and hell cannot make a resolute soul commit a\nsingle sin. It is said that the walls of that house of\nprostitution, to which the holy maiden was condemned, still\nstand, and form the walls of a church dedicated in her honor--a\nvisible proof how the soul, faithful to itself and God, turns the\nvery means and instruments of its temptations into trophies of\nits most magnificent victories.\n\nNor do those understand the nature of the Christian conflict who\nmake strong passions the pretext for the neglect of religious\nduties. There are such. Their hearts are too tumultuous, their\npassions too strong, their virtue too weak, their circumstances\ntoo difficult; and they must wait till they become more composed,\ncalmer, more devout, until religion becomes more natural to them.\nError, dangerous as common! I tell you, Christianity takes hold\nof every man just as he is, and just where he is, and claims him.\nNo doubt, a quiet temper, a tranquil disposition, a devout\nspirit, are valuable gifts, but the root of religion does not lie\nin them, but in the will. That is it. God never intended religion\nto be confined to the passive and gentle, and to be neglected by\nthe strong and impulsive. You, young man of pleasure; you, man of\nbusiness and enterprise; you, proud and worldly man; you,\npassionate woman, with your wild and wayward nature, God, this\nday, here and now challenges you: \"Why are you not working with\nMe, and for Me? Why are you not religious?\"\n{386}\n\"Me!\" you say, \"it is impossible. I am sensual and avaricious, I\nam selfish and revengeful, I am full of hatred and jealousy, I am\nworldly to the heart's core.\" No matter: you know what is right;\nare you willing to do it? \"Oh! I cannot. I do not love God. My\nheart is cold.\" No matter: are you willing to serve God with a\ncold heart? That is the question. \"I cannot, I cannot. I have no\nfaith. I cannot pray. I have not a particle of spirituality.\nReligion is wearisome to me, and strange. It is as much as I can\ndo to stay through a High Mass.\" No matter, I say once more. Do\nyou want to have faith? Are you willing to practise what you do\nbelieve? Then if you are, begin your work here and now. You\ncannot be of so rough a nature that Christ will reject you. No\nmatter who you are and what you are, no matter what your trials\nhave been, and what your past life, if you are a man, with a\nhuman heart, with human reason and a human will, Christ calls you\nby your name, and points out a way that will lead you to peace\nand heaven.\n\nBut least of all do they understand the nature of the Christian\nlife, who make temptation an apology for sin; who excuse\nthemselves for a wrong action by simply saying, \"I was tempted.\"\nFar be it from me, my brethren, to undervalue the danger of\ntemptation, or to forget the frailty of the human heart, or to\nlack compassion for the fallen; but it is one thing to fall and\nbewail one's fall, and another to make the temptation all but a\njustification of the fall. And are there not some who do this?\nwho do not seek temptation, but invariably yield to it when it\ncomes across them? who only steal when some trifle falls in their\nway; who only curse when they are angry; who only neglect Mass\nwhen they feel lazy and self-indulgent; and are always sober and\nchaste except when the occasion invites to libertinism and\nintemperance?\n{387}\nWhat! is this Christianity? To abstain from sin as long as we\nhave no particular inclination to commit it, and to fall into it\nas soon as we have! O miserable man, O miserable woman, go and\nlearn the very first principles of the doctrine of Christ. Go to\nthe Font of Baptism, and ask why you renounced Satan, and\npromised to keep God's commandments. Go to the Bible and learn\nwhy Christ died, and what is the duty of His followers.\nTemptations come upon you in order that you may resist them. You\nare subject to gusts of anger, in order that you may become meek.\nYou are tempted to unchastity, in order that you may become pure.\nYou are tempted against faith, that you may learn to believe.\nThat you are tempted, is precisely the reason that you should not\nyield; for it shows that your hour is come, and the question is\nwhether you will belong to Christ or Satan.\n\nYes, my brethren, our conflict is for the trial of our virtue. It\nis a universal law of humanity. It was so even in the garden of\nEden. In the fields of Paradise, where the trees were in their\nfresh verdure, and the air breathed a perpetual spring, and all\nthings spoke of innocence and peace, there Adam had to meet this\ntrial. And each child of man since then has met it in his turn.\nAnd Christians must meet it too. In the sheltered sanctuary of\nthe Church, where we have so many privileges, so much to\nstrengthen and gladden us, even there each one must abide the\ntest. As the Canaanite was left in the promised land, to keep the\nchildren of Israel in vigilance and activity, so the sting of the\nflesh, the power of our inferior nature, is left in the baptized,\nto school us in virtue, to make us men, to make us Christians, to\nmake us saints. This is the foundation principle of religion. He\nwho has learnt this, has found out the riddle of life.\n\n{388}\n\nAnd now, my brethren, that I have explained to you the source of\nthe conflict that we feel within us, and the purpose it is\ndesigned to answer, you will see what the result of it must be,\nhow it issues in the two eternities that are before us. \"_He\nthat soweth in his flesh, of the flesh also shall reap\ncorruption; but he that soweth in the Spirit, of the Spirit shall\nreap life everlasting_.\" [Footnote 131]\n\n    [Footnote 131: Gal. vi. 8.]\n\nThe Judgment Day is but the revelation of the faithfulness or\nunfaithfulness of each one of us in the struggle to which he has\nbeen called. Every act, every choice we make, tells for that\ngreat account. The day will declare it. Then the secret of each\nman's heart shall be revealed, and how that battle in his heart\nhas been fought. Oh, what a spectacle must this world present to\nthe angels who look down upon the solemn strife that is going on\nhere below! There is a man who has ceased to strive. No longer\nmaking any resistance, he is led on wholly and completely by his\ninferior nature. The slave of sin, he hardly feels the conflict\nin his soul, but it is because the voice of reason and the voice\nof grace have been so long resisted that they have become almost\nsilent. And there are others who have given up the pure strife,\nbut not so determinedly, not so completely. Occasionally they\nhave better moments, regrets for the good they have forsaken, but\nstill they float on with the careless world. And there is the\nyoung girl taking her first step on the downward road, looking\nback to the father's house she is leaving, reluctant, but\nconsenting. Then there is the penitent, who has fallen but risen\nagain; who has learned wariness from his fall, and new confidence\nin God from His mercy and goodness, and who is striving by\npenance and prayer to make up what he has lost. And there is the\nman with feeble will, ever sinning and ever lamenting his sin,\ndivided between good and evil, with too much conscience to give\nfree reins to his passions, and too little to master them\ncompletely. And there is the soul severely tried, still\nstruggling but almost overwhelmed, and out of the depths calling\nupon God the Holy and True, \"_Incline unto mine aid, O\nGod_.\"\n{389}\nAnd there is the soul strong in virtue, strong in a thousand\nvictories, which stands unmoved amid temptations, like the\ndeep-rooted tree in a storm, or like the rock beaten by the\nwaves. Oh, yes, in the sight of the angels, this world is full of\ninterest. There is nothing here trivial and common-place. What\nprophecies of the future must they not read! What saints do they\nsee, ripening for Heaven! What sinners rushing madly to Hell!\nWhat unlooked-for falls! What unexpected conversions! What hidden\nsins, unsuspected by the world! Now they must rejoice, and now\nthey must weep. Now they tremble over some soul in danger, and\nnow they exult because the danger is over. So it is now; but when\nthe end shall come, then fear and hope shall be no more, the\nconflict will be ended, the books shall be opened, and the\nsecrets of the heart published to the universe. The struggle of\nlife will be past, only its results will remain--two separate\nbands, one on either side of the Judge, the good and the wicked,\nthose who have been true to their conscience, to reason, to\ngrace, and those who have not.\n\nWell, then, we will strive manfully against sin. There are untold\ncapacities in us for good and evil. God said to Rebecca: \"_Two\nnations are in thy womb, and two peoples shall be divided out of\nthy womb, and one people shall overcome the other_.\" [Footnote 132]\n\n    [Footnote 132: Gen. xxv. 23.]\n\nSo, my brethren, in each heart there are two powers struggling\nfor the mastery--the Spirit and the Flesh. There are two sets of\noffspring struggling for the birth--\"the works of the flesh,\nwhich are immodesty, uncleanliness, fornication, enmities, wrath,\nenvies, emulations, quarrels, murders, drunkenness, revellings;\nand the works of the spirit, which are love, joy, peace,\npatience, kindness, faith, modesty, continence, chastity.\" It is\nfor the will, with and under God's grace, to say which of these\nshall overcome the other.\n{390}\nDo you say that I put too much on the will? that the will is too\nweak to decide this fearful contest? O brethren, the will is not\nweak. On the side of God, and with the help of God, it is\nirresistible. Look at the martyrs' will. Did it not carry them\nthrough fire and sword? Did it not enable them to meet death with\njoy? This is our mistake, we do not know our strength. We know\nour weakness, but we do not know our strength. We think God is to\nhelp us, independently of ourselves, and not through ourselves.\nBut this is not so, God helps us by strengthening our will, by\nenlightening our reason, by directing our conscience. We cannot\ndistinguish between what God does and what we do in any act. The\ntwo act together. Therefore, I say, you have it in your power to\nresist sin, you have it in your power to become saints. No matter\nthough your evil dispositions have been increased by past sins,\nyou can overcome evil habits, and be what God wills you to be.\nOnly do not be contented with a superficial religion, a religion\nof feelings, and frames, and sensible consolations. Go down deep,\ngo down to the will. Let the sword of the LORD probe till it\npierces even \"to the division of the soul and the spirit,\" the\npoint at which our higher and lower natures meet each other. Make\nyour religion not a sham, but a reality. School yourself for\nheaven. Day by day fight the good fight of faith, and thus merit\nat last to die like a holy man at whose death St. Vincent of Paul\nassisted: \"He is gone to heaven,\" said the saint, speaking of M.\nSillery, \"like a monarch going to take possession of his kingdom,\nwith a strength, a confidence, a peace, a meekness, which cannot\nbe expressed.\"\n\n---------------------------\n\n{391}\n\n     Sermon  XVIII.\n\n\n  The Intercession Of The Blessed Virgin\n     The Highest Power Of Prayer.\n\n  (Sunday Within the Octave of the Ascension.)\n\n\n  \"If you remain in me, and my words remain in you,\n  ye shall ask whatever you will, and it shall be done to you.\"\n    --John xv. 7.\n\n\nThere is perhaps no Catholic doctrine which meets with more\nobjection among those outside the Church, than our devotion to\nthe Blessed Virgin. Expressions of love to her, of hope in her\nintercession, which seem to us perfectly natural, which come from\nour hearts spontaneously, when they are most under the influence\nof Christian and holy principles, seem to them altogether at\nvariance with Christianity. I do not believe that this comes\nalways from prejudice, and a spirit of opposition on their part.\nIt comes often, I am persuaded, from not understanding us. There\nis a link in our minds which connects this practice with other\nChristian doctrines, and this link is wanting in theirs; and\ntherefore acts of devotion of this kind seem to them arbitrary\nand useless, an excrescence on Christianity, and even alien to\nits spirit. If this is the case, it cannot but be a duty and\ncharity for us to explain, as far as possible, what is in the\nmind of a Catholic when he prays to the Blessed Virgin; and I\nshall accordingly attempt to do so this morning. Perhaps while we\nare thus removing a stumbling-block out of some erring brother's\nway, we shall be at the same time rendering our own ideas on this\ndoctrine clearer, and its practice more intelligent.\n\nThe Blessed Virgin Mary, then, to a Catholic, represents the\npower of intercessory prayer in its highest form and degree.\n\n{392}\n\nI believe there are very few persons, indeed, who realize at all\nthe power which is attributed to intercessory prayer in the Bible\nand in Christianity. The Apostles frequently exhort the\nChristians to whom they are writing to pray for them. They\nenjoined it upon them as a duty to pray for one another. What\ndoes this mean? Had not St. Paul and St. Peter influence enough\nwith Heaven to carry their wants directly to the throne of grace?\nWas not the way of access to God open and easy for every one? Did\nGod require to be reminded of the woes and wants of any child of\nman, by the sympathizing cries of his fellow-creatures? Was not\nGod's own heart as large as theirs? Could any thing He had made\nescape His knowledge, or any sorrow fail to awaken His\ncompassion? Or, if it did, was the intercession of Christ\ninsufficient that any other had to be called in to supplicate?\nNo, certainly. None of these suppositions are true. God's\ngoodness and knowledge are infinite. He needs not to be told what\nis in man. He loves the work of His hands. The meanest and the\npoorest are in the light of His Providence. Christ's merits are\ninfinite and universal. But after all, there stands the fact.\nIntercessory prayer is an ordinance of God. It is a duty to pray\nfor others, and it is useful to have others pray for us. You may\ncall it a mystery if you like. To me, it does not seem so very\nwonderful. No man lives to himself. We are not the only\nChristians. Many others walk alongside of us on the road to\nHeaven. Many are ahead of us. Many have already reached their\nterm. Shall there be no sympathy between us? Is that principle so\ndeeply seated in our nature to have no play in Christianity? Are\nwe to have no interest, no feeling for each other? Or, is that\nsympathy to be a barren sentiment, and to have no results? God,\nin religion, makes use of and commands this kindness and\nsympathy. He makes use of it to bind all men together in a bond\nof love. In order to [do] this, He makes it a law that we shall\npray for one another, and suspends His gifts upon its execution.\n{393}\nIt is, then, to meet that nature that He has framed--it is to\nexalt that nature craving for sympathy--it is to give rein to\ncharity--it is to make us always sensible and mindful of that\ngreat human family to which we belong--it is for these reasons,\nI conceive, that God has instituted the ordinance of intercessory\nprayer. But, explain it as you will, the fact cannot be denied.\nIt is an appointment of God, and an appointment of great\nefficacy. It plays a large part in the history of the Bible.\nElias was a man subject to like passions with us, and he prayed\nearnestly that it might not rain, and it rained not for three\nyears and six months; and he prayed again, and the heavens gave\nrain. Abraham prayed for Abimelech, and God healed him. When\nMoses prayed for the Israelites suffering under the fire with\nwhich God had visited them for their sins, the fire was quenched.\nIn the prophet Ezechiel, God speaks as if he could not act\nwithout this intercession--as if it were really a necessary\ncondition for the bestowal of His graces. \"_I sought among them\nfor a man_,\" he says, \"_that might stand in the gap before\nme, in favor of the land, that I might not destroy it, and I\nfound none_.\" [Footnote 133] St. James even seems to make\nsalvation depend on intercessory prayer. \"_Pray for one\nanother_,\" is his language, \"_that ye may be saved_.\"\n[Footnote 134]\n\n    [Footnote 133: Ezechiel xxii. 30.]\n\n    [Footnote 134: St. James v. 16.]\n\nThese are but a sample of the many Scriptural proofs that might\nbe brought to show that intercessory prayer is an ordinance of\nGod. It is one of the forms in which the goodness of God and the\nmerits of Christ flow over upon us. By it we obtain graces from\nGod much more easily than we could without it. And we obtain by\nit special graces, which we would not be likely to obtain at all\nwithout it. In this sense, perhaps, St. James meant to imply that\nit was necessary to our salvation. Not that it was a matter of\nprecept to ask the prayers of this or that particular person, but\nthat their intercession might be the condition of our obtaining\ngraces without which our salvation would be a work of great\ndifficulty.\n\n{394}\n\nBut this is not all that the Scriptures tell us about\nintercessory prayer. They not only declare its wonderful power,\nbut they make known to us that the efficacy of intercessory\nprayer depends on the goodness and merit before God of the one\nwho offers it. I do not mean that no one should pray for another\nunless he is very holy. By no means. No matter how great a sinner\na man may be, it is a good thing for him to pray for others, and\nthe mercy and compassion of God, I am sure, never turn away from\nsuch a petition. But then, in such a case, it is mercy and\ncompassion which moves God to hear the prayer. In the case of a\ngood man praying for another, there is a sort of claim that he\nshould be heard. Not an absolute claim, by which he can demand\nany thing for another, as of right, but a claim of fitness, a\nclaim as if between friend and friend, a claim on God's bounty\nand generosity, which will not allow Him to turn a deaf ear to\none who is faithfully striving to serve Him. The passages of\ninspiration which express this are very clear and very strong.\n\"_The continual prayer of a just man availeth much_.\"\n[Footnote 135] There it is the prayer of a righteous man that has\nthis efficacy. And to this agree the words of our Lord: \"_If ye\nremain in me, and my words remain in you, ye shall ask whatever\nye will, and it shall be done unto you_.\" [Footnote 136] Could\nwords express more clearly that the power of intercessory prayer\nis in direct proportion to the closeness of the union which we\nmaintain with God? And St. John reiterates the same principle\nwhen he says: \"_Whatsoever we shall ask we shall receive of\nHim, because we keep his commandments, and do those things that\nare pleasing in His sight_.\" [Footnote 137]\n\n    [Footnote 135: St. James v. 15.]\n\n    [Footnote 136: John xv. 7.]\n\n    [Footnote 137: I. St. John iii. 22.]\n\nGod's dealings, as recorded in the Bible, are in exact accordance\nwith this rule. At the prayer of Abraham, God desisted from His\npurpose of destroying Sodom, because Abraham was God's friend.\nWhen the three friends of Job had displeased God by their wrong\njudgments and unjust suspicions, God commanded them to go to\n_His servant Job_, and he would pray for them, and\n_him_ He would accept.\n{395}\nAnd in the prophet Ezechiel, when the Almighty would express, in\nthe strongest possible manner, the fact that His anger was\nenkindled against a people and a city; that nothing, however\nstrong, should stay its effects, He says: \"_And if these three\nmen, Noe, Daniel and Job, shall be in it, they shall deliver\ntheir own souls only by their justice_.\" [Footnote 138]\n\n    [Footnote 138: Ezechiel xiv. 14.]\n\nAs if to say: \"Notwithstanding the intercession and merit of\nthese great saints, even though they were all combined in favor\nof that one city, they should not avail to make Me spare such\nwickedness. What must be the wickedness that can force Me to\nwithstand the power of such an appeal?\"\n\nHere, then, we have two things clearly taught in Holy Scripture.\nOne is that intercessory prayer is an ordinance of God of great\npower and utility. The other is, that the degree of power this\nprayer has in any particular case depends on the merit of him who\noffers it. Who, then, shall be the favored child of man, the\nfavored saint, who shall exercise this power in the fullest\ndegree? Of whom it can be said literally, \"Whatever thou askest\nof Me I will do it,\" because the condition of union with God is\nperfectly fulfilled? Who shall this be whom Holy Scripture thus\nclothes with this tremendous power, if it be not the Blessed\nVirgin Mary? My brethren, our belief in the surpassing sanctity\nof the Blessed Virgin is no fancy of later times. It goes back to\nthe very beginning of Christianity. St. Ambrose wrote her praises\nas he had learned them from those who had received them from\napostolic men. Grave, austere men, as far as possible removed\nfrom any thing like fancy religion or sentimentality, men who had\nsuffered for the name of Christ, and even faced death in its\ndefence, employed their art and care to coin words which might\nexpress the virtue and purity and exceeding sanctity of the\nVirgin Mary, as they had learned it from their forefathers.\n{396}\nAnd in the most ancient writings of the Church, in the Canon of\nthe Mass, when the priest recalls by name the glorious army of\nChristian heroes who had gone before, always in the first place\nshe is mentioned, the all-glorious, undefiled, immaculate Mary,\nMother of God, and ever Virgin. This being so, is not her power\nof intercession fixed beyond dispute? Does not Scripture itself\nfashion out for her the glorious throne on which the Catholic\nChurch places her? Did any remain in Christ as she did? Did His\nwords ever so abide in any heart as in hers? Suppose a Christian\nwho lived in the times of the Apostles, before the Blessed Virgin\nhad gone to her rest, when she was just dying; suppose such a one\nsorely tried and tempted within and without; suppose him anxious\nabout his salvation, distrustful of his own petitions, fearful of\nthe coming storms of persecution; and suppose him in this state\nof mind to have read that passage of St. James, \"The continual\nprayer of a just man availeth much,\" what more natural than that\nhe should have said to himself, \"I will go to ask the prayers of\nthe dear Mother of Christ. I will ask her to use her power and\ninfluence with her Divine Son in behalf of a frail wanderer like\nme.\" And when he came into her presence and knelt before her, and\nkissed her hand and made his plea, and looked up to her and saw\nthat sweet grave smile, and heard her say, \"Yes, my child, when I\nstand in the presence of my Royal Son, and He holds out to me the\ngolden sceptre, and says to me, what wilt thou? what is thy\nrequest? then I will remember thee!\" Oh! how light his heart! Oh,\nhow strong his soul! what a charm against sadness! what a\nfortress in temptation! Mary prays for me in heaven to Christ her\nSon! And is there any thing in this joy and confidence which\nreason or Christianity would condemn? If so, it must be either\nthat intercessory prayer is not the power the Scriptures say it\nis, or that Mary is not the saint the Church considers her. Why,\neven Protestants have gone as far as this.\n{397}\nProtestants who have made the primitive form of Christianity\ntheir study and profess to accept it as their rule, as, for\nexample, High-Church Episcopalians, have distinctly acknowledged\nin the seventeenth century, and in our own day, that the saints\nin heaven do intercede for us, and that this was the primitive\ndoctrine of Christianity. Why, then, find fault with us for\ninvoking the saints, and say we ought only to ask God to hear\ntheir prayers for us, as if invocation on our part were not the\ncorrelative of intercession on theirs; as if it could be right to\nask a saint to pray for us the moment before he died, and wrong\nthe moment after; as if there could be any moral difference\nbefore God between a direct and an indirect supplication for the\nbenefit of their prayers in heaven?\n\nSuch, my brethren, is our idea when we address the Blessed Virgin\nfor aid. It is not that we cannot go directly to God. It is not\nthat God is not the nearest to us, and at all times accessible.\nIt is not that, sinful as we are, we may not go with our miseries\ninto the very presence of the Almighty. It is not that prayer to\nGod is not the best of all prayers. It is not that we put the\nBlessed Virgin in the place of God. O cruel charge! It is not\nthat we derogate from the merits of Christ. O strange\nmisconception! But it is this--we believe in intercessory prayer.\nWe believe that man may help his brother. We believe that\nChristianity is a human and a social relation; we believe that\nheaven is very near this earth--oh, how much nearer than ever we\nbelieved! and that in Christ we are in communion with an\ninnumerable company of angels, and the Church of the First-born.\nWe believe that there is joy in the presence of the angels of God\nover the good deeds done on earth, and that the litanies of the\nsaints ascend over one sinner and his deeds. And we believe that\nthis power of intercessory prayer culminates in the Blessed\nVirgin. We believe that she is the \"one undefiled,\" whose way has\nbeen always in the law of the Lord. We believe that before the\nfoundations of the earth were laid, or ever the earth and the sea\nwere made, she was foreknown by the Almighty, spotless in purity,\nmatchless in virtue.\n{398}\nWe believe that she was the flower of humanity, the fairest type\nof Christianity---and we believe, therefore, that God is as good\nas His word, and whatever she asks of Him, He gives it to her.\nThis is the doctrine on which we found our devotion to the\nBlessed Virgin. Take our strongest language. It means no more\nthan this: \"Pray for me.\" You may amplify as you will, but from\nthe necessity of the case every thing we say comes to that. Put\nprayer for the Blessed Virgin, suppose prayer personified in her,\nand you have the key to the Catholic doctrine on this subject.\nStrong things are said of the power of the Blessed Virgin, but so\nare strong things said in Holy Scripture and by holy men of the\npower of prayer. Whatever can be said of prayer, can be said of\nher. Cease, then, to misunderstand us. Acknowledge that we are\nbut obeying Christ in praying to the Blessed Virgin. And if you\nwill still find fault, find fault, not with us, but with God, who\nhas instituted intercessory prayer and given such power to men.\n\nAnd for you, my brethren, let these thoughts strengthen you in\nyour confidence in the powerful intercession of the Mother of\nGod. Our work is too severe, our difficulties are too great, for\nus to neglect any help God has offered us. There are many\nadversaries. The world, with all its seductions, passes in array\nbefore us. Why should we shut our eyes to the hosts of heaven\nthat march unseen by our side? Why should we stay outside when we\nare invited to the marriage supper, and Jesus and His disciples\nare there, and Mary, pleader for heavy hearts, saying, \"They have\nno wine;\" and at her prayer Jesus gives them that wine that\nmaketh glad the heart of man with the abundance of His grace and\nlove? I have been glad to see you these bright May mornings\naround the altar. Persevere more and more. Your labor of love is\nnot in vain. God's words cannot fail. His gifts are without\nrepentance. Mary's power of intercession is as fresh this day as\nit was when her prayer made the miraculous wine to gush forth at\nthe wedding feast; and until some one shall arise more blessed,\nmore holy, nearer to Christ than she, it will remain as it is\nnow, the highest and the most efficacious of all forms of prayer\nin heaven or on earth.\n\n-----------------------------\n\n{399}\n\n        Sermon XIX.\n\n   Mysteries In Religion\n\n     (Trinity Sunday.)\n\n\n  \"Oh, the depths of the riches\n  of the wisdom and knowledge of God!\n  How incomprehensible are His judgments,\n  and how unsearchable are His ways!\"\n    --Rom. XI. 33.\n\n\nThe word _revelation_ means the discovery of something that\nwas not known before, or the making clear something that was\nobscure. Now, with this idea in our mind, it may excite surprise\nto find how much the Christian Revelation abounds in mysteries.\nBy mysteries, I understand truths which are imperfectly\ncomprehended. A doctrine which contradicts reason is not a\nmystery it is nonsense. A doctrine which is wholly unintelligible\nis not a mystery: it is simply unmeaning, and cannot be the\nobject of any intellectual act on our part. But a doctrine which\nis in part comprehended, and in part not, is a mystery. Now, in\nChristianity we meet such mysteries on every side. The Sacraments\nare mysteries. Grace is a mystery. The Person of Christ is a\nmystery. And above all, the great doctrine we commemorate to-day\nis a mystery. To-day is the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity.\nTo-day we call to mind that wonderful Relationship which exists\nin God, eternal and necessary, by which, in the undivided Unity\nof His Essence, there are three distinct modes of subsistence,\nthe Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.\n{400}\nIt seems, then, not unfitting on this day to give you some\nreasons why you should acquiesce in that mysteriousness of\nChristian doctrine, which is certainly one of its marked\ncharacteristics, and which has been urged against it as a serious\nobjection.\n\nAnd, first, I observe that mysteries are _necessary_\nattendants on religion. There can be no revelation without them.\nThere can indeed be no knowledge without them. To a little child\nthe earth is a plane of no great extent, and the stars are\ncolored lamps hung in the canopy of the night. But as he grows\nolder, he learns that the earth is very big, and that the stars\nare very far off, and that there are many systems of worlds above\nus; and now how many questions press themselves upon his mind!\nWhat is the history of this universe? How old is the earth which\nwe inhabit? Are the stars inhabited? Science with the hard\nearnings of human thought and labor gives him some little\nsatisfaction, but for every question that she sets at rest there\nare many new ones that she raises, and at last in every\ndepartment there comes a point where she gropes, and loses her\nway, and stops altogether. If you light a candle in a large room\nit casts a bright light on the table you are sitting at, and on\nthe pages of the book you are reading, but gives only a dim light\nin the distance. You see that there are pictures on the walls,\nbut you cannot discover their subjects. You see there are books\non the shelves, but you cannot read their titles. When the room\nwas quite dark you did not know that they were there at all, and\nnow you know them only imperfectly. So every light which\nknowledge kindles brings out a new set of mysteries or\nhalf-knowledges. For this reason it is that a man of true science\nis apt to be modest in his language. Your loud-talking\nphilosopher, who has no difficulties, has but a very narrow scope\nof thought and vision. He is clear because he is shallow. But a\nhighly educated man _knows_ that there are a great many\nthings he is ignorant of, and so his language is modified and\nqualified.\n{401}\nI believe it was Sir Isaac Newton who used to say, that in his\nscientific investigations he seemed to himself like a child\ngathering pebbles on the sea-shore. It was his vast attainments\nthat made him sensible that Truth is as boundless as the sea. And\nwhen scientific men forget this; when they forget how much they\nare ignorant of; when they are boastful, over-positive, or\ninconsiderate in their statements, how applicable to them becomes\nthe reproof which the Almighty addressed to Job: \"_Where wast\nthou when I laid the foundations of the earth? tell Me if thou\nhast understanding. Upon what are its bases grounded? or who laid\nthe corner-stone thereof? By what way is light spread, and heat\ndivided on the earth? Who is the father of the rain, or who hath\nbegotten the drops of dew? Dost thou know the order of heaven,\nand canst thou set down the reason thereof on the earth? Tell Me,\nif thou knowest these things_.\"\n\nAnd this holds good just as well in regard to religious\nknowledge. Reason teaches us that there is a God, and it tells\nsomething of His Nature; but it speaks to us about Him only in\nriddles. God is immutable, and yet He is perfectly free: who\nshall reconcile these together? God is infinite, infinite in\nEssence, infinite in all His Attributes--try to comprehend\ninfinitude if you can. Again, what a mystery there is in the\ncreation of this world! What a mystery in the union of spirit and\nmatter! Everywhere mystery is the necessary accompaniment of\nknowledge; and the more we know, the more mysteries will we have.\nIf, then, God reveals to us any thing about Himself additional to\nthat which reason can ascertain, mystery must still be the\nconsequence. The wider the view, the more indistinct and shadowy\nthe outline.\n{402}\nIt is revealed to us that in God, without injury to His\nSimplicity, there is a Threefold Relationship--that the Father,\ncontemplating Himself from all eternity, has conceived a perfect\nImage of Himself, and that this Image is His Son, and that the\nFather and the Son have loved each other from all eternity, and\nthat this Love is the Holy Ghost--that thus the Father, the Son,\nand the Holy Ghost are Three distinct, eternal, necessary\nSubsistences. Do not be surprised at this. Here is nothing\ncontradictory to reason. True, it is wonderful. True, you cannot\npierce it through and through. It is full of darkness. No matter.\nYou know, when the moon comes out from behind a cloud, how sharp\nand well-defined the shadows become. So these darknesses of\ndoctrine come because the light is brighter. Men talk of the\n_simple doctrines_ of the gospel. There are no such things.\nThe gospel, as a scheme of doctrine at least, is a mystery. St.\nPaul called it so, and so it is. It is a mystery because it\nreveals so much. If we did not know that God is both One in\nsubstance and Three in the mode of subsistence, our difficulties\nwould be less, but so would our knowledge. Well does the prophet\nexclaim: \"_Verily, Thou art a hidden God, the God of Israel,\nthe Savior!_\" [Footnote 139]\n\n    [Footnote 139: Isai. xlv. 15.]\n\nWhat, the _God of Israel_ a hidden God! Did He not manifest\nHimself to the patriarchs? Did he not speak face to face with\nMoses? Yes, but He is all the more hidden, the more He has\nmanifested Himself. It cannot be otherwise. God yearns to make\nHimself known to man, but He cannot. The secret is too deep and\nhigh. Language is too weak. Thought too slow. Reason too narrow.\nThe very means He takes to reveal Himself conceal Him. Clouds and\ndarkness gather around Mount Sinai as He descends upon it. The\nFlesh in which He was \"manifested\" to men serves as a veil to His\nDivinity. No, we cannot find out the Almighty to perfection. The\ntime will come in heaven when by the Light of Glory our\nintellects shall be marvellously strengthened, and we shall see\nHim \"as He is\"--but now we see as through a glass darkly.\n{403}\nOur utmost happiness here is that of Moses, to be hidden in the\nrock, while the Almighty passes by and lifts His Hand that we may\nsee a ray of His Glory. Do not complain if the ray dazzles thy\nfeeble sight, but receive each glimpse of that Eternal Truth and\nBeauty thankfully, and give heed unto it, \"_as unto a light\nshining in a dark place_.\"\n\nBut, further, mysteries are not only necessary attendants on\nrevelation, they are really sources of advantage to us. In order\nto make this clear, I must remind you that Faith is one of the\nconditions of our acceptance with God. There was a time when men\nlaid too much stress on faith and made light of works; then the\nChurch had to define that works are necessary, and that there is\nno salvation without them. Now the contrary error is afloat. Men\nsay: \"Be moral,\" \"Be religious in a general way, and it is no\nmatter what a man believes.\" Now, this is an error as great and\nas dangerous as the other. \"_Abraham believed God, and it was\nreputed to him unto justice._\" [Footnote 140] The apostles\nbelieved Christ, and were praised for it. On the other hand,\nthose who disbelieved are reproved as being guilty of a mortal\nfault. \"_The heart of this people is grown gross: and with\ntheir ears they have been dull of hearing, and their eyes they\nhave shut: lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and\nhear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and should\nbe converted, and I should heal them_.\" [Footnote 141]\n\n    [Footnote 140: Rom. iv. 3.]\n\n    [Footnote 141: St. Matt. xiii 15.]\n\nIn like manner, when our Lord took leave of unbelieving\nJerusalem, He wept over it. Now, why is this? What is there, in\nthe act of believing or disbelieving, that is of a moral nature,\nthat deserves praise or blame? Is not faith an act purely\nintellectual? I reply, faith is an act partly intellectual,\npartly moral. The intellect demands proof that a particular\ndoctrine has been revealed by God, but, when that is once\nascertained, faith accepts the doctrine, not because it is\nperfectly clear in itself, but because God reveals it.\n{404}\nClearly, there enter into such an act many elements of\nmorality--our reverence for God, our desire to do His Will, our\nhumility and docility. You know it is an honor to a man for one\nto believe in his word, and especially for one to make ventures\non the faith of his word. Just so, to make ventures on God's word\nis a generous, devout, and noble act. Now, it is the\nmysteriousness of Christian doctrine that gives faith this\ngenerous character--or rather, that makes faith possible. The\nobscurity of the revelation throws the weight on the authority of\nthe Revealer. It is mystery which gives life to faith. A man is\nnot said to _believe_ a thing he sees. \"_Blessed are\nthey_,\" said our Blessed Lord, \"_that have not seen, and yet\nhave believed_.\" [Footnote 142]\n\n    [Footnote 142: St. John xx. 29.]\n\nThere are certain flowers that require the shade to bloom.\nConstant sunshine burns them up. So Faith requires the shadow of\nmystery. It thrives under difficulties. Abraham's faith was so\nadmirable, because he considered not his own decrepitude, nor\nSarah's barrenness, but believed he should have a son at the time\nappointed by the Almighty. The faith of the apostles was so\npleasing to Christ because they accepted His call so readily.\nThey might have stopped to ask a thousand questions, but they\nrose up without delay and followed Him.\n\nYou see, then, what I meant when I said that mysteries are of\nadvantage to us. They enter into our probation. They are the\noccasion of our practising the noble virtue of faith. They are a\ntest of moral character. Nay more, by calling into action the\nbest principles of our nature they exalt our character. You know\nhow it is in the world when some new and great social question is\nstarted--how everyone is affected by it. The indolent take their\nopinions about it from others. The prejudiced and interested\njudge of it according to prejudice and interest.\n{405}\nMen of principle decide it on grounds of morality. But everyone's\nposition is in some way changed by it. So it is with the gospel.\nIts preaching throws men into new attitudes. \"_The Cross of\nChrist is to them that perish foolishness, but to them that are\nsaved it is the power of God._\" [Footnote 143] The proud and\nthe perverse stumble at this stumbling-stone, but men of \"good\nwill,\" the humble, and the loving, find it a precious\ncorner-stone on which their faith has a solid foundation, and on\nwhich they are built up to everlasting life. So it was in the\ntime of Christ. After our Lord had been preaching for some time,\nHe inquired of the apostles into the effects of His preaching:\n\"Whom do men say that the Son of Man is?\" And they said: \"_Some\nsay that thou art John the Baptist, and others Elias, and others\nJeremias, or one of the prophets_.\" \"_But whom do you say\nthat I am?_\" [Footnote 144] --and Faith, undaunted by\ndifficulties, answers by the mouth of St. Peter: \"_Thou art\nChrist, the Son of the living God_.\" On another occasion,\nafter He had performed the miracle of the multiplication of the\nloaves, as we read in St. John's Gospel, He taught the people the\ndoctrine of the Real Presence in Holy Communion: \"_Unless you\neat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, you shall\nnot have life in you._\" [Footnote 145] Now, what happened?\nMany were offended and walked with Him no more. It was too great\na mystery. \"_How can this man give us his flesh to eat?_\"\nthey said. And our Lord turned to His disciples and said--it\nseems to me I can see His anxious countenance, and hear His tones\nof sorrow as He asks the question--\"_Will you also go\naway?_\" And again Peter answered on behalf of all: \"_To whom\nshall we go? Thou hast the words of Eternal Life_.\" As much as\nto say, \"Thou art the Truth; no mystery at Thy mouth can deter\nus.\"\n\n    [Footnote 143: I. Cor. i. 18.]\n\n    [Footnote 144: St. Matt. xvi. 13.]\n\n    [Footnote 145: St. John vi. 54.]\n\n{406}\n\nSo it has been, also, throughout the history of the Church. What\nare all the heresies that have arisen but the scandal which the\nworld has taken at the Christian mysteries, and what are all the\ndecisions of the Church but acts of loyalty and submission to Him\nwho is \"the Faithful and True Witness\"?\n\nAnd the same thing is going on in our day. \"_Wisdom preacheth\nabroad: she uttereth her voice in the streets_.\" [Footnote 146]\nThe Catholic Church publishes those startling doctrines\nwhich have come down to her from the beginning, which have been\nheld everywhere and by all--the principality of the Roman See,\nthe Power of Forgiveness of Sins, the necessity of Penance, the\ngrace of the Sacraments--and what is the result? The children of\nwisdom, they whose hearts are tender, enter her sacred fold and\nare blessed. But many listen and say: \"It is all very well, if we\ncould believe it. If we could believe it! And is it, then, not\ncredible? Has not God given His revelation complete credibility?\nCan we not believe Jesus Christ? \"_God, Who in times past spoke\nto the father's by the prophets, hath in these days spoken unto\nus by His Son_.\" [Footnote 147] \"_No one knoweth the Father\nbut the Son and He to whom the Son will reveal Him_.\"\n[Footnote 148]\n\n    [Footnote 146: Prov. i. 20.]\n\n    [Footnote 147: Heb. i. 1, 2.]\n\n    [Footnote 148: Matt. xi. 27.]\n\nJesus Christ has spoken. Miracles and prophecy attest His Truth\nand Authority. Can you, then, innocently refuse to listen?\n\"_Surely they will reverence my son_,\" was the language of\nthe father in the parable; will not God the Father Almighty look\nfor an equal submission to His Eternal and Coequal Son? Can He\nspeak, and you go on as if He had not spoken? Can you pick and\nchoose among His doctrines, and take up one and reject another?\nNo, to turn back, to stand still, to falter, is a crime. The\ntrumpet has sounded: men are marshalling themselves for the\nvalley of decision. Oh, take your part with the generation of\nfaithful men, the true children of Abraham, who have \"attested by\ntheir seal that God is true.\" Have courage to believe. Plunge\ninto the waters with St. Peter, for it is Christ that is\nbeckoning you on. To believe is an act of duty--of fidelity to\nyour own intelligence, of generosity and devotion to God.\n{407}\n\"_Without faith it is not possible to please God_.\"\n[Footnote 149] Faith is the door to all supernatural blessings.\nThere is a whole world that exists not to a man that has not\nfaith. Faith enlarges our thoughts, opens our hearts, elevates us\nabove ourselves and multiplies a thousand-fold our happiness. Why\ndo men grope in darkness? Why do they remain in ignorance, when\nby one generous resolve, one courageous act of faith, an act so\nnoble, so meritorious, they might enter into that Glorious Temple\nof Truth that has come down out of heaven to man, might enter and\ndwell therein, and their hearts wonder and be enlarged? Happy\nthose who can say with the Psalmist: \"_Thy testimonies are\nwonderful; therefore hath my soul sought them_.\" [Footnote\n150] They are wonderful--they rest for their evidence on Thy Word\nand Thy Truth, therefore I believe them and love them, for to\nbelieve Thee is my first duty and my highest wisdom.\n\n    [Footnote 149: Heb. xi. 6.]\n\n    [Footnote 150: Ps. cxviii 129.]\n\nLet not, then, the mysteries of our holy religion disturb us, my\nbrethren, but rather let them make us rejoice. For what are they\nbut the evidences of the greatness of our religion? They do not\nrepel, they attract us. We believe them on the authority of God,\nand we esteem it both a duty and a delight to do so. Neither are\nthey all dark in themselves. Nay, they are only dark from excess\nof light. Each one of them has much that addresses itself to our\nunderstanding, much that enlists our affections. The angels in\nheaven worship the Trinity with devoutest adoration. \"_I saw\nthe Seraphim_,\" says the prophet, \"_and they covered their\nfaces and cried: Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of Hosts!_\"\n[Footnote 151]\n\n    [Footnote 151: Isai. vi. 3.]\n\nIncessantly sings the Church on earth: \"Glory be to the Father,\nand to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.\" There have been saints\nwho so dwelt upon all that Faith teaches us of God, that they had\nto go by themselves, in quiet places, for their hearts were all\nbut breaking with the sweet but awful sense of His Majesty.\n{408}\nLet us, too, learn to love these mysteries and meditate on them.\nWe live in the midst of great realities. \"_You are come to\nMount Sion, and to the city of the living God, the heavenly\nJerusalem, and to the company of many thousands of angels, and to\nthe Church of the first-born, who are written in heaven, and to\nGod the Judge of all, and to the spirits of the just made\nperfect, and to Jesus, the Mediator of the New Testament_.\"\n[Footnote 152]\n\n    [Footnote 152: Heb. xii. 22, 23, 24.]\n\nDay by day, let it be our endeavor to pierce into these holy\ntruths more and more, that at last, like Moses, our countenances\nmay reflect some portion of their beauty and brightness, that\ncontinually \"_beholding the glory of the Lord we may be\ntransformed into the same image from glory to glory_.\"\n[Footnote 153]\n\n    [Footnote 153: II Cor. iii. 18.]\n\n-------------------------------\n\n          Sermon XX.\n\n     The Worth Of The Soul.\n\n  (Third Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n\n  \"There shall be joy before the angels of God\n  over one sinner doing penance.\"\n    St. Luke xv. 10.\n\n\nThis is what theologians call an _accidental_ joy. The\nessential joy of heaven consists in the perfect knowledge and\nlove of God, and is unchangeable and eternal; but the accidental\njoy of heaven springs from the knowledge of those events in time\nwhich display the goodness and greatness of God. The first of\nthese events was the creation itself, when the hand of God spread\nthe carpet of the earth, and stretched the curtains of the\nheavens.\n{409}\nThen \"_the morning stars praised Him together, and all the sons\nof God made a joyful melody_.\" [Footnote 154]\n\n    [Footnote 154: Job xxxviii 7.]\n\nAfter this the great historic events of the world have been\nsuccessively the burden of the angelic songs--the unfolding of\nthe plan of Redemption, the birth of Christ, the triumphs of the\nChurch. But lo! of a sudden these lofty strains are stopped.\nThere is silence for a moment, and then the golden harps take up\na new and tenderer theme. What is it that has happened? What is\nthe event that can interrupt the great harmonies of Heaven, and\nfurnish the Angels with a new song? In some corner of the earth,\nin some secret chamber, in some confessional, on some sickbed, in\nsome dark prison, a sinner is doing penance. He prays, whose\nmouth had been full of cursings. He weeps, who had made a mock at\nsin. The slave of Satan and of Hell turns back to God and\nHeaven--and that is the reason of this unusual joy. It is not\nthat a recovered sinner is really of more account than one who\nhas never fallen, but his recovery from danger is the occasion of\nexpressing that esteem and love for the souls of men which always\nfills the heart of God and the Angels. Therefore, as that\ncontrite cry reaches heaven, the Angels are silent, for they know\nthat there is no music in the ear of God like that. And then,\nwhen God has ratified the absolving words of the priest, and\nrestored the contrite sinner to His favor, they cast themselves\nbefore the throne, and break forth into loud swelling strains of\necstasy and triumph, while He Himself smiles His sympathy and\njoy. O my brethren, what a revelation this is! A revelation of\nthe value of the soul. There are great rejoicings on earth when a\nbattle is won, or upon the occasion of the visit of some great\nstatesman or warrior, or when some great commercial enterprise is\nsuccessful, but these things do not cause joy in Heaven. The\nconversion of one soul--it may be a child, or a young man, or an\nold woman--the conversion of one soul, that it is that makes a\ngala day in Heaven.\n{410}\nNow, God sees every thing just as it is, and if there are such\nrejoicings in Heaven when a soul is won, what must be the value\nof a soul! Let us confess the truth, we have not thought enough\nof the value of a soul. We have thought too much of the world, of\nits pleasures, of its profits, of its honors, but too little of\nour own souls. We have not thought of them as God thinks of them.\nLet us, then, strive to exalt our ideas, by considering some of\nthe reasons why we should put a high value on our souls.\n\nIn the first place, we should value a human soul, because it is\nin itself superior to any thing else in the world. The whole\nworld, indeed, with every thing in it, is good, for God made it.\nBut He proceeded in a very different manner in the creation of\nthe material world from what He did when He made the soul. He\nmade the world, the trees, the rivers, the lights of heaven, the\nliving creatures on the earth, by the mere word of his power.\n\"_God said, Be light made. And light was made_.\" [Footnote 155]\n\n    [Footnote 155: Gen. i. 3.]\n\nAnd God said, \"_Let the earth bring forth the green herb, and\nthe fruit tree yielding fruit after its kind. And it was so_.\"\n[Footnote 156] But when He made the soul, the Scriptures tell us,\n\"_He breathed into the face of man and he became a living\nsoul_.\" [Footnote 157]\n\n    [Footnote 156: Gen. i. 12.]\n\n    [Footnote 157: Gen. i. 26.]\n\nBy this action we are to understand that God communicated to man\na nature kindred to his own divinity. The Holy Ghost, the Third\nPerson of the Blessed Trinity, is the uncreated Spirit of God,\neternally breathing forth and proceeding from the Father and the\nSon; and God, when He breathed into the face of man, signified\nthat He imparted to man a created spirit kindred to his own\neternal Spirit. The Holy Scriptures, indeed, expressly tell us\nthat such was the case: \"_Let us make man to our image and our\nlikeness_.\" [Footnote 158]\n\n    [Footnote 158: Gen. i. 26, 27.]\n\n{411}\n\nThis likeness consisted in the possession of understanding and\nfree will, the power of knowledge and love--the two great\nattributes of God himself. You are, then, my brethren, endowed\nwith a soul which raises you immeasurably above God's material\ncreation. You have a soul made after God's image. This is the\nsource of your power. The two things go together in Holy\nScripture. \"_Let us make man to our image and likeness; and let\nhim have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of the\nair, and the beasts, and the whole earth, and every creeping\ncreature that moveth upon the earth_.\" [Footnote 159] In the\nstate of original innocence, no doubt, this dominion was more\nperfect, but even now it exists in a great degree. \"_Every kind\nof beast, and of birds, and of serpents, and of the rest, is\ntamed, and hath been tamed by mankind_.\" [Footnote 160]\n\n    [Footnote 159: Gen. ii. 7.]\n\n    [Footnote 160: St. James iii. 7.]\n\nSee how a little boy can drive a horse. See how a dog obeys his\nmaster's eye and voice. See how even lions and tigers become\nsubmissive to their keepers. And the elements, often wilder than\nferocious beasts, are obedient to you. The fire warms you and\ncooks for you, and carries you when you want to travel for\nbusiness or pleasure. The wind fans the sails of your vessels,\nand the waters make a path for them under your feet. Even the\nlightning leaps and exults to do your bidding and to be the\nmessenger of your will. Thus every thing falls down before you\nand does you homage, and proclaims you lord and master. What is\nthe reason that every thing thus honors you? It is on account of\nthe soul that is in you--the power of reason and will--the\ngodlike nature with which you are endowed.\n\nYes, and your soul is the source of your beauty, too. In what\nconsists the beauty of a man? Is it a mere regularity of form and\nfeature? Do you judge of a man as you do of a horse or a dog?\n{412}\nNo; the most exquisitely chiselled features do not interest you,\nuntil you see intelligence light up the eye, and charity\nirradiate the countenance--then you are captivated. A man may be\na perfect model of grace in his movements without exciting you,\nbut when he becomes warm with inspirations of wisdom and virtue,\nwhen his words flow, his eye sparkles, his breast heaves, his\nwhole frame becomes alive with the emotions of his soul, then it\nis you are carried away, you are ready almost to fall down and\nworship. What is the reason that Christian art has so far\nsurpassed heathen art? that the Madonna is so far more beautiful\nthan the Venus de Medicis? It is because the heathens portrayed\nmere natural beauty; the Christians portrayed the beauty of the\nsoul. And if the soul is so beautiful in the little rays that\nescape from the body, what must it be in itself? God has divided\nhis universe into several orders, and we find the lowest in a\nsuperior order higher than the highest in the inferior order. The\nsoul, then, is more beautiful than any thing material. \"_She is\nmore beautiful than the sun, and above all the order of the\nstars: being compared with the light she is found before it_.\"\n[Footnote 161]\n\n    [Footnote 161: Wisdom vii. 29.]\n\nO my brethren, do not admire men for their form, or their dress,\nor their grace, but admire then for the soul that is in them, for\nthat is the true source of their beauty.\n\nIt is also the secret of their destiny. God did not give you this\ngreat gift to be idle. He gave it for a worthy end. He gave\nunderstanding that you might know Him, and free will that you\nmight love Him; and this is the true destiny of man. You were not\nmade to toil here for a few days, and then to perish. You were\nmade to know God, to be the friend of God, the companion of God,\nto think of God, to converse with God, to be united to God here,\nand then to enjoy God hereafter forever. Once more, then, I say,\ndo not admire a man for his wealth, or his appearance, or his\nlearning. Do not ask whether he is poor or rich, ignorant or\nlearned, from what nation he springs, whether he lives in a cabin\nor palace.\n{413}\nLet it be enough that he is a man, possessed of understanding and\nfree will, spiritual and immortal, with a soul and an eternal\ndestiny. That is enough. Bow down before him with respect. Yes,\nrespect yourselves--not for your birth, or your station, or your\nwealth, but for your manhood. \"_Let not the wise man glory in\nhis wisdom, and let not the strong man glory in his strength, and\nlet not the rich man glory in his riches. But let him that\nglorieth glory in this, that_ HE UNDERSTANDETH AND KNOWETH\nME.\" [Footnote 162] Yes, my brethren, this is your true dignity,\nthe soul that is in you--the soul, that makes you capable of\nknowing and loving God.\n\n    [Footnote 162: Jer. ix. 23, 24.]\n\nAnd yet, there is another reason why you should value your souls,\nbesides their intrinsic excellence--I mean, the great things that\nhave been done for them. Do you ask me what has been done for\nyour souls? I ask you to look above you, and around you, and\nunder you. Oh, how fair the earth is! See these rivers and hills!\nLook on the green grass! Behold the blue vault of heaven! Well,\nthis is the palace God has prepared for your abode; nay, not for\nyour abode--your dwelling-place is beyond the skies, where\n\"_the light of the moon is as the light of the sun, and the\nlight of the sun seven-fold, as the light if seven\ndays_,\"--but for the place of your sojourn. This earth was\nmade for you; and, as your destiny is eternal, therefore the\nearth must have been made to subserve your eternal destiny. Why\ndoes the sun rise in the morning, and go down at night? It is for\nyou--for your soul. Why do summer and winter, seed-time and\nharvest, return so regularly? It is for you, and your salvation.\nThe earth is for the elect. When the elect shall be completed,\nthe earth, having done its work, will be destroyed. This is the\nend to which, in God's design, all things are tending. God does\nnot look at the world, or its history, as we do.\n{414}\nWe say: \"Here such a great battle was fought;\" \"there such a\ncelebrated man was born;\" \"in this epoch such an empire took its\nrise, such a dynasty came to an end.\" But God says: \"Here it was\na little child died after baptism, and went straight to heaven;\"\n\"there it was I recovered that gifted soul, which had wandered\naway into error and sin, but which afterward became so great in\nsanctity;\" \"in such an age it was that I lost that great nation\nwhich fell away from the faith, and in such another, by the\npreaching of My missionary, I won whole peoples from heathenism.\"\nI know we shrink from this in half unbelief: When it is brought\nhome to us that this little earth is the centre of God's\ncounsels, and our souls of the universe, we are amazed and\noffended. But so it is. \"_All things work together unto good to\nthem that love God_.\" [Footnote 163] All things; not blindly,\nbut by the overruling Providence of Him who made them for this\nend.\n\n    [Footnote 163: Rom. viii. 28.]\n\nDo you ask me what has been done for your souls? I answer, the\nChurch has been established for them. Look at the Church, and see\nhow many are her officers and members--Bishops, Priests,\nLevites, Teachers, Students. All are yours--all are for you. For\nyou the Pope sits on his throne; for you Bishops rule their Sees;\nfor you the Priest goes up to the altar; for you the Teacher\ntakes his chair, and the Student grows pale in the search for\nscience. That the Apostolic commission might come down to you,\nSt. Peter and St. Linus and Cletus ordained Bishops in the\nchurches. That the true doctrine of Christ might come down to you\nuncorrupted, the Fathers of the Church gathered in council, at\nNice, and Ephesus, and Chalcedon, and Trent. That you might hear\nof the glad tidings of Christ, St. Paul and St. Patrick labored\nand died. For you, for each one of you, as if there were no\nother, the great machinery of grace, if I may express myself so\ncoarsely, goes on.\n\n{415}\n\nDo you ask what has been done for your souls? Angels and\nArchangels, and Thrones and Dominions, and Principalities and\nPowers--all the hosts of Heaven--have labored for them. \"_Are\nthey not all ministering spirits, sent to minister for those who\nshall receive the inheritance of salvation?_\" [Footnote 164]\n\n    [Footnote 164: Heb. i 14.]\n\nFor you the whole Court of Heaven is interested, and one bright\nparticular Angel is commissioned to be your guardian. For you St.\nGabriel flew on his message of joy to the Blessed Virgin Mary,\nand St. Michael, the standard-bearer, waits at the gate of death.\n\nDo you ask what has been done for your souls? From all eternity\nGod has thought of them, the means of salvation have been\ndetermined on, the chain of graces arranged. And the Son of God\nhas worked for them. Galilee, and Judea, and Calvary were the\nscenes of His labors on earth, and on His mediatorial throne in\nheaven He carries on still His unceasing labors in our behalf.\nAnd the Holy Ghost has worked. He spake by the Prophets, and on\nthe day of Pentecost He came to take up His abode in the Church,\nnever to be overcome by error, or grieved away by sin, to vivify\nthe Sacraments, and to enlighten the hearts of the faithful by\nthe preaching of the Gospel and His own holy inspirations.\n\nWhy, who are you, my brethren? The woman at Endor, when she had\npierced the disguise of Saul, and knew that she was talking with\na king, was afraid, and \"_said with a loud voice: 'Why hast\nthou deceived me, for thou art Saul?_'\" [Footnote 165]\n\n    [Footnote 165: I. Kings xxviii. 12.]\n\n    [Transcribers Note: The correct reference is I. Samuel\n    xxviii. 12.]\n\nSo, I ask you, who are you? I look upon your faces, and I see\nnothing to make me afraid; but faith tears away the disguise, and\nI see each one of you radiant with light, a true prince, and an\nheir of heaven. I look above, and see Heaven open and the Angels\nof God ascending and descending on errands of which you are the\nobject.\n{416}\nI look higher yet, and I see God the Father watching you with\nanxiety, and the Son offering his blood for you, and the Holy\nGhost pleading with you, and the Saints and Angels, some with\nfolded hands supplicating for you, and others pointing with\noutstretched finger to the glorious throne reserved in Heaven for\nyou.\n\nHave you, my brethren, so regarded yourselves? Have you valued\nthat soul of yours? Have you kept it as your most sacred\ntreasure? Is it now safe and secure? Oh, how carefully do men\nkeep a treasure they value highly! Kings spend many thousand\ndollars yearly just to take care of a few jewels. The crown\njewels of England are kept, as you know, in the Tower. It is a\nheavy fortress, guarded by soldiers who are always on watch. At\neach door and avenue there is an armed sentinel. The jewels\nthemselves are kept in glass cases, and visitors are not allowed\nto touch them. And all this pains and outlay to take care of a\nfew stones that have come down to the Queen by descent, or been\ntaken from her enemies! And that precious soul of yours, before\nwhich all the wealth of the world is but worthless dross with\nwhat care have you kept that? Alas! every door has been left\nopen. No guard has been at your eyes to keep out evil looks. No\nguard at your ears to keep out the whispers of temptation. No\nguard at your lips to stop the way to the profane or filthy word.\nNay, not only have you kept up no guard, but you have carried\nyour soul where soul-thieves congregate. The Holy Scripture says:\n\"_A net is spread in vain before the eyes of a bird_.\"\n[Footnote 166]\n\n    [Footnote 166: Provo i. 17.]\n\nYes, the birds and beasts are cunning enough to avoid an open\nsnare; but you go rashly into dangers that are apparent to all\nbut you. Sinners lie in wait for you. They say, in the language\nof Scripture: \"_Come, let us lie in wait for blood; let us hide\nsnares for the innocent without cause. Let us swallow him up\nalive like hell, and whole as one that goeth down into the\npit_\"--and you trust yourself in their power. Oh, fly from\nthem!\n{417}\nConsider the treasure you carry. \"_What shall it profit a man\nto gain the whole world and lose his own soul?_\" Will you sin\nagainst your own soul? you that are made after God's likeness;\nyou that are princely and of noble rank, will you defile that\nimage, and degrade yourselves to a level with the brutes that\nperish?\n\nBut there are others whose offence is of another kind. They let\ntheir salvation go by sheer neglect. If a man plants a seed, he\nmust water it, or it will not grow. So the soul needs the dew of\nGod's grace; and prayer and the sacraments are the channels of\nGod's grace. Yet how men neglect the Sacraments! Even at Easter,\nwhen we are obliged to receive them, some absent themselves. It\nhas been a matter of the keenest pain to us to miss some members\nof this congregation during the late Paschal season. You say, you\nhave nothing on your conscience, and it is not necessary to go to\nconfession. But is it not necessary to go to communion? Will you\nventure to deprive yourselves of that food of which, unless ye\neat, the Saviour has said, \"_Ye have no life in you?_\" Or;\nyou have a sad story to tell. You have fallen into mortal sin,\nand you are afraid to come. But do you think we have none of the\ncharity of the Angels? Only convert truly, for it is a true\nconversion that gives the Angels joy, and we can give you the\npromise that Thomas \u00e0 Kempis puts into the mouth of Him whose\nplace we fill: \"How often soever a man truly repents and comes to\nMe for grace and pardon, as I live, saith the Lord, who desireth\nnot the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted\nand live, I will not remember his sins any more, but all shall be\npardoned him.\"\n\nAnd to you, my brethren, who, during the Easter season just past,\nhave recovered the grace of God, I have a word of advice to give\nin conclusion. Keep your souls with all diligence. Keep your\nsouls; that is your chief, your only care. Keep them by fleeing\nfrom the occasions of sin.\n{418}\nKeep them by overcoming habitual sins. Nourish them by prayer and\nthe sacraments. How great a disgrace, that all the irrational\nworld should do the will of God, and you, the rulers of the\nworld, should not do it! \"_The kite in the air hath known her\ntime; the turtle, and the swallow, and the stork have observed\nthe time of their coming; but my people have not known the\njudgment of the Lord_.\" [Footnote 167]\n\n    [Footnote 167: Jer. viii. 7.]\n\nHow great an evil it is in a state when an unworthy ruler is at\nits head. The people mourn and languish, and at last rebel. So,\nwhen a man neglects the end for which he was made, the whole\ncreation cries out against him. The stones under his feet cry\nout. The air he breathes, the food he eats, protest against the\nabuse he makes of them. Balaam's ass rebuked the madness of the\nprophet; so, when you live in sin, the very beasts cry out: \"If\nwe had souls, we would not be as you. Now we serve God blindly,\nand of necessity; but if we had souls, it would be our pride and\nhappiness to give Him our willing service.\" All things praise the\nLord;--\"showers and dew;\" \"fire and heat;\" \"mountains and hills;\"\n\"seas and rivers;\" \"beasts and cattle.\" O sons of men, make not a\ndiscord in the universal harmony! Receive not your souls in vain!\nServe God; \"praise Him and exalt Him forever.\"\n\n-------------------------------\n\n             Sermon XXI.\n\n    The Catholic's Certitude Concerning\n         The Way Of Salvation.\n\n     (Fifth Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n\n   \"I know whom I have believed, and I am certain\n   that He is able to keep that which I have committed\n   to Him against that day.\"\n     --II. Tim. I. 12.\n\n\nNo one can deny that this sentiment of the Apostle is a very\ncomfortable one. To be confident of salvation is surely an\nexcellent and desirable thing. But the question with many will\nbe, is it possible to attain it?\n{419}\nNow, there is one sense in which we cannot have a security of our\nsalvation. We cannot have personally an infallible assurance that\nwe are now and shall always continue in the grace of God, and\nshall at last taste the joys of heaven. Our free-will forbids\nsuch an assurance, and neither our happiness nor the attributes\nof God demand it. But there is another sense in which a man may\nbe said to have a security of his salvation, viz.: that he has\nwithin his reach, beyond all doubt, the proper and necessary\nmeans for attaining that end; for if the means are certain, it is\nplain that in the use of those means he may acquire a moral\ncertainty that he is doing those things which God requires of\nhim, and a well-grounded hope of everlasting life. Such a\nsecurity it would seem a man ought to be able to attain. Without\nit the service of God must be slavish. There can be no free and\ngenerous service where there is not confidence. When one is\ntravelling at night on a road he is ignorant of, he goes slow, he\nfalters; but in the broad daylight, in a road he is sure of, he\nwalks with a free, bold step. So in religion, if we have no\nsecurity that we are right, we can never do much for God. Man is\nnot an abject being; he is erect; he looks up to heaven; he seems\nto face his Maker and to demand from Him to know the terms on\nwhich he stands toward Him. A confidence, then, at least of being\nable to secure our salvation, must be within our reach. The only\nquestion is, how is it to be attained? I answer, the Catholic has\nwithin his reach the security of his salvation, and he alone.\n\nIn order to show this to you, I must remind you of what I mean by\nsalvation. Put out of your minds that childish idea that\nsalvation is an external, arbitrary reward, given to some men\nwhen they die, and denied to others, as a father gives a book or\na plaything to an obedient child, and refuses it to a\ndisobedient. Salvation is union with God. We are made for God.\nThat is our high destiny. In God are our life and happiness; and\nout of God our death and ruin.\n{420}\nSalvation is our union with God for all eternity, and, in order\nto be united to God for all eternity, we must be united to Him\nhere. Our salvation must begin here. Now, we are united to God\nwhen our intelligence is united to His intelligence by the\nknowledge of His truth, and our will united to His will by the\npractice of His love. When I affirm, then, that the Catholic\nalone has the means of attaining a security of salvation, I mean\nthat he alone has the certain means of coming to the knowledge of\nHis truth, and the practice of His will.\n\nI say _the certain means of coming to the knowledge of His\ntruth_, for it is one thing to have a certain knowledge of a\nthing, and another to have only some ideas about it. We see this\ndifference when we contrast the language of a man who is master\nof a science with that of one who has only vague notions about\nit. One possesses his knowledge--knows what he knows--can make\nuse of it; while the other is embarrassed the moment he attempts\nto use his knowledge--is uncertain whether he is right or\nwrong--is driven to guesses and conjectures. In the same way, in\nreligion, it is one thing to have convictions more or less\ndeep--opinions more or less probable, to be acquainted with its\nhistory and able to talk about it--and quite another to have\ncertainty in religion, to know that one is right. This is the\nassurance I claim as the special possession of the Catholic.\nThere can be no doubt that Catholics do, in point of fact, show a\nmuch deeper conviction of the truth of their religion than\nProtestants. This is a matter of common observation, and the\nproofs of it are on every side. Officers who come back from the\narmy tell how struck they have been with the fact that the\nCatholic soldiers believe their religion and carry it with them\nto the camp. Proselyting societies make frequent confession of\nthe difficulty they find in undermining the faith even of\nignorant and needy Catholics. Those who have experience at\ndeath-beds, know that faith is found sometimes surviving almost\nevery other good principle, and making a return to God possible.\n{421}\nThose who are familiar with the history of the Church know that\nthis faith is strong enough to bear the severest tests which can\nbe applied to it; that it has often led men to despise what the\nworld most esteems--wealth, pleasures, honor; that it sends the\nmissionary to heathen countries without a regret for the home and\nthe native land he leaves behind him; that, in fine, it has often\nled men in times past, and still at this day leads them joyfully\nto the rack, the stake, and the scaffold. Now, whence comes this\ndeep and fixed certainty in religion? Is it a mere prejudice that\nmelts before investigation? Is it a stupid fanaticism? Or has it\na reasonable basis, and are its foundations deep in the laws of\nthe human mind? I answer, Catholics have this undoubting\nconviction on the principle of faith in an infallible authority.\nThere are but two principles of Christian belief, when we come to\nthe bottom of the matter. One is the Protestant principle, viz.:\nthat each one is to settle his faith for himself, by a study of\nthe clear records of Christianity. The other is the Catholic\nprinciple, viz.: that each one is to receive his faith from an\ninfallible authority. I feel as if I ought to pause here for a\nwhile to explain to you what is meant by this principle, for\nthere exists in regard to it in some minds a misconception which\ndoes us the grossest injustice. Some persons imagine that our\ncreed is manufactured for us by the Pope and the Bishops; that\nwhatever they may think right and good they may decree, and\nforthwith we are bound to believe it. But this is an enormous\nmistake. The authority to which I submit myself is something far\nmore august. It lies behind Pope and Bishop, and they must bow to\nit as well as I. The Pope and the Bishops are the organs of this\nauthority, not its sources. When we speak of learning from an\ninfallible authority, we mean that a man is to find out the truth\nby putting his intelligence in communication with that living\nstream of truth that flows down through the channel of tradition,\nthat living word of God, that public preaching of the truth in\nthe true Church, begun by the Apostles, carried on by their\nsuccessors, confessed by so many people, recorded in so many\nmonuments, adorned by so many sacrifices, attested by so many\nmiracles.\n{422}\nUnquestionably, this was the mode in which men were expected to\nlearn the truth in apostolic days. It would not have been of the\nleast avail for a man to have said to the Apostles that his\nconvictions differed from theirs. He would have been instantly\nregarded as in error. \"We are of God,\" says St. John; \"he that is\nof God, heareth _us_; he that is not of God, heareth not us.\n_By this_ shall ye know the spirit of truth, and the spirit\nof error.\" [Footnote 168]\n\n    [Footnote 168: I St. John iv. 6.]\n\nNor is there the least intimation in the New Testament that this\nprinciple was to be departed from after the death of the\nApostles. On the contrary, we find that the Apostles ordained\nothers, and communicated to them their doctrine and authority,\nthat they might go on and preach just as they had done. And we\nfind in the early Church that whenever a dispute arose about\ndoctrine it was settled on the same principle, viz.: by an appeal\nto the tradition of the churches that had been founded by the\nApostles. Thus, when a heresy arose in the second century,\nTertullian confronts it by bidding them compare their doctrine\nwith that of the Apostolic Churches: \"If thou art in Achaia,\" he\nsays, \"thou hast Corinth; if thou art near Macedonia, thou hast\nPhilippi; if thou art in Italy, thou hast Rome. Happy Church! to\nwhich the Apostles bequeathed not only their blood, but all their\ndoctrines. See what _she_ has learned, see what _she_\nhas taught.\" [Footnote 169]\n\n    [Footnote 169: Adv. Pr\u00e6scr. H\u00e6r. n. 32-6.]\n\nSuch is the principle on which the Catholic Church acts to this\nday. Now, while the Protestant principle of private judgment in\nits own nature cannot lead to certainty, while in point of fact\nit has led only to endless dispute, until in our own day it has\nended by bringing those Divine Records, which it began by\nexalting so highly, into doubt and contempt; the Catholic\nprinciple, which, I have stated, is the principle of tradition,\nis adapted to give a complete and a reasonable certainty and\nassurance.\n{423}\nThe reasons why this public tradition of the living Church has\nthis power are manifold. They are in part natural, and in part\nsupernatural--universal consent, internal consistency, Divine\nAttestation, the Warrant and Promise of Christ; all of which are\nso well summed up by St. Augustine, in that famous letter of his\nto the Manichees: \"I am kept in the Catholic Church,\" he says,\n\"by the consent of peoples and nations. By an authority begun\nwith miracles, nourished by hope, increased by charity, confirmed\nby antiquity. By the succession of priests from the chair of St.\nPeter the Apostle--to whom our Lord after His resurrection gave\nHis sheep to be fed--down to the present Bishop. In fine, by that\nvery name of _Catholic_, which this Church alone has held\npossession of; so that though heretics would fain have called\nthemselves Catholics, yet to the inquiry of a stranger, 'Where is\nthe meeting of the Catholic Church held?' no one of them would\ndare to point to his own basilica.\" [Footnote 170]\n\n    [Footnote 170: Con. Ep. Manich. i. 5. 6.]\n\nThe conviction which such considerations produce is so deep that\na Catholic rests in it with the most undoubting certainty. He can\nbear to look into his belief, to examine its grounds; he feels it\nis a venerable belief. He says it is impossible that God would\nallow error to wear so many marks of truth. To imagine it, would\nbe to impugn _His_ Truth, _His_ Justice, _His_\nPower, _His_ Goodness. And therefore, our belief in the\nCatholic religion is only another form of our belief in God. The\nfoundation of that belief is deep and abiding, for it is the\nEternal Throne of God. That desire for truth which is implanted\nin man's nature is not, then, given only to be baffled and\ndisappointed--here is its fulfilment. Man is not raised to a\nparticipation in Christ of the Divine Nature, to be left in doubt\nof the most essential truths.\n{424}\nTo the Catholic are fulfilled those pleasant words of Christ:\n\"_I will not now call you servants, for the servant knoweth not\nwhat his Lord doeth; but have called you friends, because all\nthings, whatsoever I have heard from my Father, I have made known\nto you_.\" [Footnote 171]\n\n    [Footnote 171: St. John xv. 15.]\n\nBut some one may make an objection to my doctrine that certainty\nabout truth is the result only of the Catholic principle of\nfaith, and say: \"You do not mean to assert that Protestants have\nno faith at all?\" A Protestant may say to me: \"I acknowledge that\nwe have among us a great deal of disunion, and a great deal of\ndoubt, but after all there are some things that are believed by\nsome of us, that are believed without doubt, and you will not\ndeny it.\" No, I will not deny it. I am glad to think that it is\ntrue. But how did you come by that belief? You did not come by it\non the principle of Protestantism. The truth is, that principle\nnever has been, and never can be carried out. Thank God, it is\nso. Utter unbelief would be the consequence. You have a child--a\nchild that you love dearly. Will you wait, as your Protestantism\nrequires you to do, till he is grown up, for him to form his\nreligious convictions? No; if you love him, you will not. Your\nheart will teach you a better wisdom. You will tell him about\nGod, you will tell him Who Christ is, and what He has done for\nhim. You will tell him these things not doubtingly, not as if he\nwas to suspend his judgment on them, but as true, and as to be\nbelieved then and there. And as he looks up at you out of his\ntrusting eyes, he believes you. But how does he believe you? On\nthe principle of a Protestant, or a Catholic? On the principle of\nprivate judgment, or on faith in an infallible authority? Surely\nit is as a Catholic he believes? You represent to him the Great\nTeacher, and his childish soul, in listening to you, hears the\nvoice of God, performs a great act of religion, and does his\nfirst act of homage to Truth. His nature prompts him to believe\nyou. Perhaps he is baptized, and then there is a grace in his\nheart which secretly inclines him the more to credit you, and he\nbelieves without doubting. He is a Catholic.\n{425}\nYes, my brethren, there is many a child of Protestant parents who\nis a Catholic--a Catholic, that is, in all but the name, and the\nfulness of instruction, and the richness of privilege. He may\ngrow up in this way, perhaps continue all his life in this\nchildish faith and trust. I will not say it may not be so. But\nlet his reason fully awaken. Let him honestly go down to the\nfoundation of his faith and see on what it rests, and then let\nhim remain a Protestant, and retain his undoubting assurance if\nhe can. He cannot--a crisis in his history has come. The sun has\narisen with its living heat. The flower begins to wither. It must\nbe transplanted or it will die. One of three things will happen:\neither the man, finding that he has not learned all that the\nGreat Teacher has revealed, will go on to accept the rest and\nwill become a Catholic; or he will learn to doubt what he has\nreceived already and become a sceptic; or he will stick to the\ncreed he has received from his fathers or picked up for himself,\nand doggedly refuse to add to it, thus rendering himself at the\nsame moment amenable in the Court of Reason for unreasonableness\nin what he holds, and in the Court of Faith for unbelief in what\nhe rejects. So true it is that all the faith there is in the\nworld is naturally allied to Catholicity. If men were perfectly\nreasonable and consistent, there would be only two parties in the\nreligious world. Protestantism would disappear. On the one side\nwould be faith, certainty, Catholicity; on the other, doubt and\nunbelief.\n\nNor is this all. The Catholic has not only a certain means of\narriving at the knowledge of God's Faith, but he has also the\nsure means of knowing what he is bound to _do_ in order to\n[obtain] salvation. Christianity is a supernatural religion, and\ntherefore it suggests many questions to which natural reason\ncannot give the answer. By what means can I be united to Christ?\nSuppose I am in mortal sin, how can I be forgiven?\n{426}\nWhat are the precise obligations binding on me as a Christian?\nNow, how distinctly, how promptly were such questions answered in\nthe time of the Apostles! When St. Paul came to Ananias to know\nwhat he was to do, the answer was given to him: \"Arise, and be\nbaptized, and wash away thy sins.\" In the same way in the\nCatholic Church of this day, when a convert asks the same\nquestion, he gets the same answer: Seek in faith and repentance\nthe cleansing of baptism, and thou shalt be joined unto Christ.\nDost thou wish to know the life thou must practise? It is written\nin the ten commandments and the precepts of the Church. Dost thou\nwish to know where thou wilt gain strength to keep these laws? In\nprayer and the sacraments. The Church tells you how many there\nare, what is their efficacy, and the conditions of their saving\noperation. Art thou in sin after baptism? Dost thou ask the way\nback to God? The Church tells thee that sorrow for sin is the way\nback, and that this sorrow, when it is completed by confession,\nand accepted by the absolution of the priest, has a sacramental\nefficacy. So precise are the answers of Catholicity to the\nimportant practical questions of Christianity; and the authority\nwhich, I have already said, attaches to her words, gives ease and\ncertainty to the conscience. But how different is all this in\nProtestantism! How various the answers given to these questions\nby the different sects! Nay, how contradictory sometimes the\nanswers given in the same sect! It would be odious to go into\nparticulars on this subject, but I say what I know when I affirm\nthat an intelligent Protestant cannot have faith in his Church,\nif he would; he may adopt a set of opinions and associate with\nthose who hold them, but he cannot have faith in his Church as a\nChurch. It is not long since an intelligent member of one of the\nmost enlightened Protestant denominations told me that the\nmembers of that Church did not seem to be satisfied with it, only\nthey did not know whether there was any other Church in the world\nthat would satisfy them.\n{427}\nI say what I know when I affirm that there are young children in\nProtestant Churches who weep because they are told that God hates\nthem, and they do not know how to gain His love. That there are\nnumbers of young men, full of generous and noble thoughts and\nimpulses, who are utterly destitute of any fixed Christian\nbelief; who say they would like to believe, but they cannot. That\nthere are multitudes and multitudes who die in this land, who die\nwithout one single Christian act, and many who submit at their\nlast hour to take part in such acts at the request of friends,\nand on the chance that there may be some good in them. That there\nare some who openly lament that they were not born Catholics,\nthat they might have had faith; some who rise in the night to cry\nto God out of the hopeless darkness that surrounds them; some\nwho, in despair of seeing God with an intelligent faith, take up\na substitute, the best of all, it is true, but still very\ninsufficient--works of benevolence and philanthropy, and the\nbeauties of a merely moral life; some who would welcome death\nitself if it would but remove their agony of doubt.\n\nI do not say these things, my Protestant friends, if any such are\npresent, to mock your miseries. Far from it. I know you too well.\nI love you too much. I say these things to lead you to truth and\npeace. I call to you struggling with the waves, from the rock\nwhereon our feet have found a resting-place. I speak to you to\nthe same effect as Christ spoke to the woman at the well of\nJacob, who was a member of the schismatical Samaritan Church. You\nworship you know not what. We know what we worship; for salvation\nis of the Jews. You know not what you worship. Your religion is\nat the best one of doubt and uncertainty. We know what we\nworship. We are certain we are right, for salvation is of us. We\nare the Israelites. To us belongeth the adoption of children, and\nthe glory, and the covenant, and the giving of the law, and the\nservice of God, and the promises.\n{428}\nThis is the mountain of the Lord established in the last days on\nthe top of the mountains, and exalted above the hills, into which\nthe nations flow. O you who know not this home of peace, God did\nnot make you to be as you are, to be tossed to and fro and\ncarried about with every wind of doctrine, to follow blind\nguides, to give your money for that which is not bread, and your\nlabor for that which satisfieth not. No, come with us and be\nhappy. Come with us and be blessed. Come, let us go the mountain\nof the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob, and He will\nteach us His ways, and we will walk in His paths, for the law\nshall come forth from Sion, and the word of the Lord from\nJerusalem. Incline your ear unto me and you shall live--the life\nof faith--the life of certainty and hope. You shall go out with\njoy and be led forth with peace. Instead of the shrub shall come\nup the fir tree: and instead of the nettle shall come up the\nmyrtle tree. All nature shall sympathise in your happiness. The\nmountains and hills shall break forth into singing before you,\nand all the trees of the country shall clap their hands.\n\nAnd you, my dear Catholics, be not indifferent to the graces God\nhas given you, nor slothful in their use. You have it your power\nto make sure your salvation. About the means there is no\nuncertainty. They are infallible. It is of the Catholic Church\nthat the prophet spoke when he said: \"_A path shall be there,\nand a way, and it shall be called a holy way, and this shall be\nunto you a straight way, so that even fools shall not err\ntherein_.\" [Footnote 172] And again: \"_This saith the Lord\nGod: I will lay a stone in the foundation of Sion, a tried stone,\na corner-stone, a precious stone, founded in the foundation_.\"\n[Footnote 173]\n\n    [Footnote 172: Isai. xxxv. 8.]\n\n    [Footnote 173: Ibid. xxviii. 16.]\n\n{429}\n\nA way to heaven in this dark, uncertain world! a straight, a\nsure, a certain way! A rock under our feet under this swelling\nsea! O my brethren, what blessings are these! Let them not be in\nvain. Be not found at the last day with your lights gone out! The\njust shall live by faith. Live by yours. Do you wish to advance\nin a good life? Your faith tells you how. Does sin wage a war\nagainst you? Your faith tells you how to meet the combat. Are you\nin sin? Your faith tells you how to be forgiven. Correspond,\nthen, honestly with this faith, and you may enjoy a firm hope of\nheaven, a hope not based on excited feelings, not claiming to be\na direct inspiration from on high, but a reasonable hope, that\nwill stay by you in adversity, and support you at the hour of\ndeath. Claim, then, your privilege. Assert the freedom wherewith\nChrist has made you free. Be not troubled or anxious all your\ndays. Do your part, act up to your Catholic conscience, then lift\nup your heads, eat your bread with joy, and let your garments be\nalways white, for God now accepteth your works. In this is the\nlove of God perfected in us, that we may have confidence in the\nday of judgment. \"_Wherefore, be ye steadfast, unmovable,\nalways abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know\nthat your labor is not in vain in the Lord_.\" [Footnote 174]\n\n    [Footnote 174: I. Cor. xv. 58.]\n\n----------------------------------\n\n              Sermon XXII.\n\n          The Presence Of God.\n\n     (Fifth Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n\n  \"Indeed the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not.\n  How terrible is this place;\n  this is no other than the house of God and the gate of heaven.\"\n    --Gen XVIII. 16,17.\n\n\nThese words were spoken by the Patriarch Jacob when he was\njourneying to Syria to visit his uncle. He had stopped for the\nnight at a place which was afterward called Bethel, and as he lay\non the ground with a stone for his pillow, the Lord appeared to\nhim in a vision, and blessed him, and foretold his future\ngreatness and increase.\n{430}\nThen, penetrated with a sense of the nearness and greatness of\nGod, with whom he had been conversing, he rose up and exclaimed:\n\"Indeed the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not.\" And\ntrembling, he said: \"How terrible is this place; this is no other\nthan the house of God, and the gate of heaven.\" Now, my brethren,\nwe may make every morning and every night a similar declaration.\nWherever we are, we may say: \"Indeed the Lord is in this place.\"\nEvery spot on earth, on which a man tarries for a moment, becomes\nthe house of God, and the gate of heaven. You understand what I\nmean. I am speaking of the omnipresence of God. Reason and faith\nboth proclaim to us this great truth of the universal presence of\nGod. He is present by His immensity to all creatures in the\nuniverse, whether living or inanimate. When God created the\nworld, He did not leave it to itself. He sustains it by His\npresence and power, and it is in Him that we live and move and\nhave our being. He is present to our intellectual and moral being\nas the light of reason and the object of the will, for without\nHim there would be no rational or moral life. He is present with\nus also as the source of that supernatural life which begins in\nbaptism and ends in the uncreated vision of the Blessed Trinity\nin heaven. \"He that loveth Me, shall be loved by My Father; and I\nwill love him, and will manifest Myself to him. * * * And My\nFather will love him, and We will come to him, and will make an\nabode with him.\" [Footnote 175]\n\n    [Footnote 175: St. John xiv. 21, 23.]\n\nO my brethren, what a piercing thought is this of the presence of\nGod, if we did but realize it! Think for a moment of the doctrine\nof the real presence of our Lord in the Holy Eucharist. We\nbelieve that Jesus Christ, true God and true man, with His deity,\nHis soul, His flesh and blood, is present in the holy sacrament\nof the altar. What consequences this doctrine has!\n{431}\nThe whole Catholic ritual, the ceremonies of worship, the respect\npaid to churches, the bowing of the knees, the incense, the\nlights, the music--all flow from this. In the early ages, during\nthe times of persecution, it was customary for Christians to take\nhome with them the Blessed Sacrament, that they might communicate\nthemselves in case of necessity. Imagine that such were the\ncustom now. Imagine you were to take away with you, this day, as\nyou left the church, and carry to your homes, the sacred host\nwhich is kept in the tabernacle. How silently would you go along\nthe streets! With what care would you seek out a place for our\nSaviour's body to repose in! With what care would you go about\nyour home as long as He remained your guest! How would your heart\nthrill as you reflected, on a awaking in the morning, that indeed\nthe Lamb of God, once crucified for you, was now a dweller in\nyour own home! Yet, if such were the case, if the Blessed\nSacrament were actually kept in your houses and in your rooms,\nGod would not be any more present to you than He is now. He is\nindeed present in a different manner in the Blessed Eucharist.\nThat sacramental presence, that sweet, precious, consoling\npresence of the body once broken, and the blood once shed for us,\nis confined to the sacramental species. But the presence of the\ndeity, the real presence of God, is just as much outside as it is\ninside the church; just as much with us when we are at home as\nwhen we are at Mass. Not if His footstep shook the heavens and\nthe earth, as it will on the Last Day when He comes to judgment,\nwould God be one whit closer to us or more present to us than He\nis now to everyone of us, every day, and everywhere. Even sin\ncannot separate us from God. We sometimes say that mortal sin\nseparates a man from God. As a figure of speech, implying the\nloss of God's grace and friendship which sin occasions, this\nlanguage may pass, but taken literally it is untrue. A man can\nnever be separated from God. That would be annihilation. Even\nwhen we are in sin, even when we are committing sin, God is with\nus and in us, the soul of our soul, the life of our life.\n{432}\nYes, here is a bond that can never be broken. Never can we escape\nthat awful presence--never for a moment, here or hereafter. We\nshall not be more in God's presence in heaven or less in hell\nthan we are now at this moment. God is not a God afar off up in\nheaven. He is here. This whole universe is only God's shadow.\nEvery thing that is attests, not only God's creating power, but\nHis living presence. He is in the flames and in the light, and in\nthe pastures, in the air, in the ground, in the body, and in the\nsoul, in the head, in the eye, in the ear, and in the heart. He\nis in us, and we are in Him, bathed in His presence as in an\nocean, breathing in it as in an atmosphere. This is what the\nPsalmist expresses so beautifully: \"_Whither shall I go from\nThy spirit? or whither shall I flee from Thy face? If I ascend\ninto heaven, thou art there; if I descend into hell, thou art\npresent; if I take my wings early in the morning, and dwell in\nthe uttermost parts of the sea, even there also shall Thy hand\nlead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me. And I said: Perhaps\ndarkness shall cover me; and night shall be light in my\npleasures. But darkness shall not be dark to thee; and night\nshall be light as the day; the darkness thereof, and the light\nthereof, are alike to Thee_.\" [Footnote 176]\n\n    [Footnote 176: Ps. cxxviii. 7-12.]\n\nIf we thought more frequently of this, how many sins should we\navoid! When a man is going to commit a crime, he takes\nprecautions against discovery. He seeks out a secret place. He\nchooses a fitting hour. Vain precautions! There is no secret\nplace on earth, no lonely spot, no time of darkness. There is a\nproverb among men that \"walls have ears,\" and the counsel of the\nwise man is, \"_Detract not the king, no, not in thy thought;\nand speak not evil of the rich man in thy private chamber;\nbecause even the birds of the air will carry the voice; and he\nthat hath wings will tell what thou hast said_.\" [Footnote 177]\n\n    [Footnote 177: Eccles. x. 20.]\n\n{433}\n\nWhat is it that has impressed on men this universal fear of\ndetection? Is it not an unconscious acknowledgment of the\npresence of God? Yes, we cannot shut the door against Him. We\ncannot leave Him out. We cannot draw the blind before His eye.\n\"_The eyes of the Lord in every place behold the good and the\nevil.\" [Footnote 178] \"Before that Philip called thee, when thou\nwast under the fig-tree, I saw thee,_\" [Footnote 179] said our\nLord to Nathanael.\n\n    [Footnote 178: Prov. xv. 3.]\n\n    [Footnote 179: St. John i. 48.]\n\nI wish you thought more of this; I am sure it would save you from\nmany a sin. I have read of a holy man who, on hearing a person\nsay that circumstances were favorable to the commission of a\nshameful sin, because no one was present, exclaimed: \"What! are\nyou not ashamed to do that before the living God which you would\nbe ashamed to do before a man like yourself?\" Even the eye of a\ndog has restrained men from the commission of crime--how much\nmore ought the eye of God! Listen to the language you hear as you\npass through the streets. The sacred names of God and Jesus\nChrist, how they are bandied about! Would men speak so, if they\nrealized that God and Christ were then and there present? Would\nthey insult God to His face? Suppose our Saviour were to appear\nto one of these men as he was pouring out his oaths and\nblasphemies, in the guise in which He was as He journeyed to\nCalvary to die for man, with sorrow in His eye, and sweat and\nblood on His forehead, with weak and faltering steps, and lips\nmute, but full of appealing love and agony; would he still go on\nwith his dreadful oaths? No! The knee would be bent, the head\nwould be bowed, and the very ground on which He walked would be\nregarded with reverent awe. Why so? Merely because he saw Him\nwith his bodily eyes? Would it not be the same, if he were to\nclose His eyes, and yet be aware of His presence? And is He not\npresent to you as truly as if you saw Him, hearing each\nimprecation and blasphemy which you utter?\n{434}\nOh, spare Him! spare those sacred ears; spare His majesty and His\ngoodness, and cease to profane His holy name. Tertullian,\nspeaking of the early Christians, says they talked as those who\nbelieved that God was listening. Let the thought of God's\npresence be deeply graven on your soul, and it will teach you to\nuse the language of a Christian--at least it will cure you of\nblasphemy.\n\nIt will cure you also of another sin of the tongue: that is of\nfalsehood. Lying implies a virtual denial of God's presence, as\nwell as blasphemy. When you lie, you forget the there is One who\nknow's the truth--who is Himself the Eternal Truth; and you act\nas if He knew not, or would be a party to your fraud. Every lie\nis, in this respect, like the lie of Ananias and Sapphira--a lie\nto God.\n\nOh! how much must God be displeased by all the sins He witnesses.\nIt is said of righteous Lot, that from day to day he vexed his\nrighteous soul at all the sins which he witnessed in Sodom, where\nhe dwelt. How must the Holy God be vexed every day at all the\ndark deeds, the injustices, the impurities, the falsehoods, the\ndeceits, the treacheries, the cruelties, to which men compel Him\nto be a witness! Is it not a necessity that Christ should come\nwith ten thousand of His saints to take vengeance on the ungodly!\nWould it not seem, otherwise, that God made Himself a party to\nour sins by keeping silence? \"_These things hast thou\ndone_,\" says the Almighty, \"_and I was silent. Thou\nthoughtest unjustly that I shall be like to thee: but I will\nreprove thee, and set before thy face_.\" [Footnote 180]\n\n    [Footnote 180: Ps. xlix. 21.]\n\nDavid committed adultery in secret; but God declared to him that\nHe would punish him before all Israel, and in the sight of the\nsun. So the Judgment Day will bring to light every secret thing,\nand manifest, in the sight of all, those hidden sins which have\nbeen committed in the presence and with the full knowledge of\nGod.\n{435}\nThey have never been hidden from God, and the disclosures of the\nLast Day are only the Presence and the Knowledge of God asserting\nand manifesting themselves to men. The thought of God, and of His\nOmnipresence, is thus the greatest preservative against sin.\n\nBut this is not all. The thought of God's perpetual and universal\npresence is our greatest strength and consolation. What a comfort\nit would be to have a friend, who loved us truly, who was most\nsincerely desirous of our welfare and happiness, who was very\nwise and able to help us in difficulties, never variable or\ncapricious, but always true and faithful and trustworthy! The\npossession of such a friend will go as far as any thing earthly\ncan go to make one perfectly happy. Now, each one of us really\nhas such a friend. Such a friend? Ah! far better, far wiser, far\nmore loving--even the good God! God, in the Holy Scriptures,\nrepresents the soul of man as a garden, in which it is His\ndelight to walk about. What an idea this gives us of the\nfamiliarity a man may have with God. Why do not men take\nadvantage of this loving condescension? Why do they not converse\nwith God? Why do they not think of Him? The face of Moses shone\nafter he had been talking to God on Mount Sinai, and our\ncountenance would be light and joyous if we dwelt more in God's\npresence. Oh, to think of it! When we walk in the streets, when\nwe sit down and rise up, there is one ever at our side--no, not\nat our side; but in us--our very life and being; God, the\nBeautiful and Good. God, Who made the heavens and the earth; the\nGod of our fathers. God, Who has been the comfort and stay of the\njust in all ages, Who talked with Abraham, and went before the\nchildren of Israel in a cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by\nnight. God, Who gave manna from heaven, Who spoke by the\nprophets, and in the still, small voice on Mount Horeb; Who awoke\nSamuel, as he lay sleeping in his little crib in the priest's\nchamber, and chose David, the youth, fair and of a ruddy\ncountenance, to be the prince of His people; and who, in these\nlast days, hath revealed Himself in His Only Begotten Son, full\nof grace and truth.\n\n{436}\n\nHe it is Who is with you and me, even from our youth unto this\nday. O thou who art afflicted, tossed with tempests and not\ncomforted, what dost thou want?--what wouldst thou have? The\nEternal God is thy refuge, and underneath thee are the\neverlasting arms. Thou hast but to open thy soul, and floods of\ncomfort and strength will pour into thee. Art thou weak? He is\nthy Strength. Art thou sad and lonely? He is thy Consoler. Art\nthou guilty? He is thy Redeemer--the God ready to pardon. Does\nthe world allure thee? His Beauty will make its attractions pale.\nIs thy heart weary and inconstant? He is unfailing and\nunchanging. O source of strength, too much slighted! O happiness,\ntoo often blindly rejected! In the presence of God there is\npleasure and life. \"_They that hope in the Lord shall renew\ntheir strength; they shall take wings as eagles; they shall run\nand not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.\" \"For He is a\ncovert from the wind, a hiding-place from the storm, as rivers of\nwaters in a dry place, and the shadow of a great rock in a weary\nland_.\" [Footnote 181]\n\n    [Footnote 181: Isai. xl. 31; xxxii. 2.]\n\nLearn, then, my brethren, to keep yourselves in the presence of\nGod. To forget God, what is it, but to plunge ourselves into sin\nand misery. To remember God, what is it, but to be strong and\nhappy. \"Walk before Me, and be thou perfect,\" said God to\nAbraham. That is the secret of perfection, the way to heaven. It\nis not necessary to go out of your own mind. It is not necessary\nto lift the eye to heaven, or bend the knee. Closer than the\nunion of soul and body is the union between God and thee.\n{437}\nQuicker than thought is the communion between thy soul and its\nMaker. \"_Thou shalt cry_,\" says the Almighty, \"_and I will\nsay: Here I am--yea, even before thy call, I will hear, and even\nwhile thou art yet speaking I will answer_.\" [Footnote 182]\n\n    [Footnote 182: Isai. lviii. 9; lxv. 24.]\n\nPractise, then, attention to the presence of God. I do not speak\nso much now of daily prayers, and of your devotions in the\nchurch. But when you are abroad in the busy world, or in your\nhomes, accustom yourselves from time to time to think of God.\nComplicated pieces of machinery require the care of an overseer\nfrom time to time, lest they get out of gear. So we must think of\nGod from time to time during the day, and keep the powers of our\nsoul in harmony with the will of God, lest they fall into\ndisorder, and the work of life be hindered. It is not a work of\nvery great difficulty. The chief difficulty lies in its\nsimplicity. It is so much easier to pray than we think, that\noftentimes we have already prayed when we are perplexing\nourselves how to pray, and busying ourselves with preparing to\npray. God is in us, in the very centre of our soul. He knows its\nmost secret thoughts, and thus a simple act of the will is enough\nto bring us into communion with Him. To realize this is to be men\nof prayer, to be as happy as it is possible for us to be in this\nlife, and to begin here that contemplation of God which will\nconstitute our everlasting beatitude in heaven.\n\n-----------------------------------------\n\n        Sermon XXIII.\n\n    Keeping The Law Not Impossible.\n\n    (Ninth Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n\n  \"I can do all things in Him who strengtheneth me.\"\n    --Phil. VI. 13.\n\n\nIf I am not mistaken, a very great number of the sins that men\ncommit, are committed through hopelessness. The pleasures of sin\nare by no means unmixed. Indeed, sin is a hard master; and all\nwho practise it find it so.\n{438}\nI never met a man who said it was a good thing, or that it made\nhim happy. On the contrary, all lament it, and say that it makes\nthem miserable. Why, then, do they commit it? Very often, I am\npersuaded, because they think they have no power to resist it.\nThey feel in themselves strong passions; they have yielded to\nthem in times past, they see that others yield to them, and so\nthey come to think it impossible not to yield to them. The law of\nGod is too difficult, they say. It is impossible to keep it. It\nmay do for priests or nuns who are cut off from the world, or for\nwomen, or for the old, or for children, but for us who mix in the\nworld, whose blood is warm, and whose passions are strong, it is\ntoo high and pure. It is all very well to talk about; it is all\nvery well to hold up a high standard to us, but you must not\nexpect us to attain it. The utmost that you can expect of us is\nto stop sinning, now and then, and make the proper\nacknowledgments to God by going to confession; but actually to\ntry not to sin, to keep on endeavoring not to sin at any time, or\nunder any circumstances, that is impossible, or at least so\nextremely difficult that, practically speaking, it is impossible.\nAre there none of you, my brethren, who recognise this as the\nsecret language of your hearts? Is there not an impression in\nyour minds that the law of God is too strict, or at least that it\nis too strict for you, and that you cannot keep it? If so, do not\nharbor it. It is a fatal error. No; it is not impossible to keep\nGod's law. It is not impossible to keep from mortal sin. It is, I\nadmit, impossible to keep from every venial sin, though even here\nwe can do a great deal, if we try. Such is the frailty of human\nnature that even the best men, as time goes on, fall into some\nslight faults, only the Blessed Virgin having been able, as we\nbelieve, to pass a whole life without even in the smallest thing\noffending God. But it is possible for all of us to keep from\nmortal sin, at all times and under all circumstances. This, I\nthink, you will acknowledge when you consider the character of\nGod, the nature of God's law, and the power of God's grace which\nis promised to us.\n\n{439}\n\nI say the character of God is a pledge of our ability to keep\nfrom mortal sin. God requires us to be free from mortal sin, and\nHe requires it under the severest penalties, and therefore it\nmust be possible for us. You may say, \"God requires us to be free\nfrom venial sin too, and yet you have just said we cannot avoid\nevery venial sin.\" But the case is far different. A venial sin\ndoes not separate us from God, and does not receive extreme\npunishment from Him--nay, those venial sins which even good men\ncommit, and which are only in small part voluntary, are very\neasily forgiven--but a mortal sin cuts us off entirely from God,\nand deserves eternal punishment. You know, one mortal sin is\nenough to damn a man--one single sin of drunkenness, for\ninstance, or impurity; a cherished hatred, a false oath, or an\nact of grave injustice. One such sin is sufficient to sink a man\nin hell, and although we know very little in particular of the\ntorments of hell, we have every reason to believe that they are\nmost bitter, and we know that they are eternal. Now, can it be\nthought that a being of justice and goodness, as we know God to\nbe, would inflict so extreme a punishment for an offence which\nwas unavoidable, or could only be avoided with the utmost\ndifficulty? Holy Scripture sends us to an earthly parent for an\nexample of that tenderness and affection which we are to expect\nfrom our Heavenly Father. \"_If you, being evil, know how to\ngive good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father\nwho is in heaven, give good things to them that ask Him_.\"\n[Footnote 183]\n\n    [Footnote 183: St. Matt. vii. 11.]\n\nWhat would be the thought of an earthly father who laid upon his\nson a command which it was all but impossible for him to comply\nwith, and then punished him with the utmost rigor for not\nfulfilling it?\n{440}\nYou would not call that man a father, but a tyrant; a tyrant like\nPharaoh, who would not give straw to the children of Israel, and\nyet set taskmasters over them to exact of them the full measure\nof bricks as when straw had been given them. Why, if you were\ngoing along the street and saw a man whipping unmercifully an\noverloaded horse, you would not bear it patiently. And would you\nattribute conduct so disgraceful among men to our Father in\nheaven? God forbid! Far be such a thought from us! It is not so.\nWe must not think it. At least we cannot think it as long as we\nremain Catholics; for when the earlier Protestants proclaimed the\nshocking doctrine that though God punished men for disobeying his\nlaw, man was really unable to obey it, the Church branded the\ndoctrine as a heresy to be abhorred of all men, as most false in\nitself, and most injurious to God. No; God loves his creatures\nfar more than we conceive of: He does not desire the death of a\nsinner. He wills truly the salvation of all men. His goodness and\nmercy, His truth and justice, are all so many infallible\nguarantees of our ability to keep His law. He would not have\ngiven us His law unless He had meant us to keep it. He would not\npunish us so severely for breaking it, unless our breaking it was\nan act of deliberate, wilful, determined rebellion.\n\nBut there is another source from which I draw the conclusion that\nit is possible to keep the law of God--from the nature of the law\nitself. The law of God is of such a nature that, for the most\npart, in order to commit mortal sin, it is necessary to do or to\nleave undone some external act, which of its own nature it is\nentirely in our power to do or not to do. For instance, the law\nsays, \"_Thou shalt not steal;_\" now, to steal, you have got\nto put your hand into your neighbor's pocket. The law says:\n\"_Thou shalt do no murder;_\" to murder, you must stretch out\nyour hand against your neighbor's life. Nay, it requires\nordinarily several external actions before a mortal sin is\nconsummated. Thus the thief has his precautions to take, and his\nplans to lay.\n{441}\nThe drunkard has to seek the occasion. He seeks the grogshop.\nEvery step he takes is a separate act. When he gets there, it is\nnot the first glass that makes him drunk. He drinks again and\nagain, and it is only after all these different and repeated\nactions that he falls into the mortal sin of drunkenness. Now,\nhere you see are external acts--acts in which the hand, the foot,\nthe lips, are concerned, and which, therefore, it is perfectly in\nour power to do or to let alone. This requires no proof, but\nadmits of a striking illustration. You have heard of the great\nsufferings of the martyrs; how some of them were stoned to death,\nothers flayed alive, others crucified, others torn to pieces by\nwild beasts, others burned to death. Now, what was it all about?\nYou answer, \"They suffered because they would not deny Christ.\"\nVery well; but how were they required to deny Christ? \"What was\nit they were required to do? I will tell you. Sometimes they were\nrequired to take a few grains of incense and throw it on the\naltar of Jupiter; that would have been enough to have saved them\nfrom their sufferings. They need not have said, 'I renounce\nChrist;\" only to have taken the incense would have been\nsufficient. Sometimes they were required to tread on the cross.\nSometimes to swear by the genius of the Roman emperor; that was\nall. And the fire was kindled to make them do these things; but\nthey would not. The flames leaped upon them, but not a foot would\nthey lift from the ground. Their hands were burnt to the bone,\nbut no incense would they touch. The marrow of their bones melted\nin the heat, and forced from them a cry of agony, but the name of\nthe emperor's tutelary genius did not pass their lips. Now, will\nyou tell me that you cannot help doing what the martyrs would not\ndo to save them from death? They had a fire before them and a\nscourge behind them, and they refused; and you say you cannot\nhelp yourself when you are under no external violence whatever!\nThey died rather than lift a hand to do a forbidden thing; have\nyou not the same power over your hand that they had?\n{442}\nThey died rather than utter a sinful word; have you not as much\npower over your tongue as they? Indeed you have, for you control\nboth one and the other whenever you will. I say there is no\nsinner whose conduct does not show that his actions are perfectly\nin his own power. The thief waits for the night to carry on his\ntrade; during the day he is honest enough. The greatest libertine\nknows how to behave himself in the presence of a high-born and\nvirtuous female. And even that vice which men say it is most\ndifficult of all to restrain when once the habit is\nformed--profane swearing--you know how to restrain it when you\nwill, for even the heaviest curser and swearer ceases from his\noaths before the priest, or any other friend whom he greatly\nrespects. Now, if you can stop cursing before the priest, why can\nyou not before your wife and children? If you can be chaste in\nthe presence of a virtuous female, why can you not be chaste\neverywhere? If you can be honest when the eye of man is on you,\nwhy can you not be honest when no eye sees you but that of God?\n\n\"But,\" someone may say, \"there is a class of sins to which the\nremarks you have made do not apply, that is, sins of thought. You\nmust admit that they are of such a nature that it is all but\nimpossible not to commit them.\" No, I do not admit it. I\nacknowledge that sins of thought are more difficult to guard\nagainst than sins of action; but I do not acknowledge that it is\nimpossible to guard against them. To prove this, I have only to\nremind you that an evil thought is no sin until we give\n_consent_ to it. To keep always free from evil thoughts may\nbe impossible, because the imagination is in its nature so\nvolatile, that but few men have it in control; but, though it be\nnot possible to restrain the imagination, it is always possible\nto restrain the will. In order for the will to consent to evil it\nis necessary both to _know_ and to _choose_, and\ntherefore from the nature of the thing one can never fall into\nsin either inevitably or unawares.\n{443}\nAnd besides, the will has a powerful ally in the conscience,\nwhose province it is to keep us from sin and to reproach us when\nwe do sin--so that it is scarcely possible, for one who\nhabitually tries to keep free from mortal sin, to fall into it\nwithout his conscience giving a distinct and unmistakable report.\nAnd this is so certain that spiritual writers say that a person\nof good life and tender conscience, who is distressed with the\nuncertainty whether or no he has given consent to an evil\ntemptation, ought to banish that anxiety altogether and to be\nsure that he has not consented. But suppose these evil\ntemptations are importunate, and remain in the soul even when we\nresist them, and try to turn from them? No matter. They do not\nbecome sins on that account; nay, they become the occasion of\nacts of great virtue. It is related in the life of St. Catharine\nof Sienna that on one occasion that pure virgin's soul was\nassailed by the most horrible temptations of the devil. They\nlasted for a long time, and after the conflict our Saviour\nappeared to her with a serene countenance. \"O my Divine Spouse,\"\nshe said, \"where wast thou when I was enduring these conflicts?\"\n\"In thy soul,\" he replied. \"What, with all these filthy\nabominations?\" \"Yes, they were displeasing and painful to thee;\nthis therefore was thy merit, and thy victory was owing to My\npresence.\" So that we see even here, where the danger is\ngreatest, the law of God exacts of us nothing but what in its own\nnature is in our power to do or not to do.\n\nBut if you wish another proof of your ability to keep God's law,\nI allege the _power of His grace_. I can imagine an objector\nsaying: \"You have not touched the real difficulty, after all. The\ndifficulty is not on God's side; no doubt. He is good and holy.\nNeither are the requirements of his law so very hard. The\ndifficulty is in us. We are fallen by nature. We have sinned\nafter baptism. We are so weak, so frail, that to us continued\nobservance of the divine commandments is impossible.\" No, my\nbrethren, neither is this true.\n{444}\nIt is not true from the mouth of any man; least of all from the\nmouth of a Christian. \"No temptation,\" says the Apostle, \"_hath\ntaken hold of you but Such as is human: And God is faithful, who\nwill not suffer you to be tempted above that which you are able;\nbut will also with the temptation make a way of escape that you\nmay be able to bear it_.\" [Footnote 184]\n\n    [Footnote 184: I Cor. x. 13.]\n\nThe weakest and frailest are strong enough with God's grace, and\nthis grace He is ready to give to those that need it. At all\ntimes and in all places He has been ready to give His grace to\nthem that need it, but especially is this true under the gospel.\nThe Holy Scriptures make this the distinguishing characteristic\nof the times of the gospel, that they shall abound in grace.\n\"_Take courage, and fear not_,\" the prophet says, in\nanticipation of the time when Christ should come in the flesh,\n\"_Behold, God will come and save you. Then shall the eyes of\nthe blind be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then\nshall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb\nshall be free; for waters are broken out of the desert, and\nstreams in the wilderness. And that which was dry land shall\nbecome a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water_.\"\n[Footnote 185] Such was the promise, hundreds of years before\nChrist, of a time of peace, of happiness and grace; and when our\nLord was come, He published that the good time had indeed\narrived: \"_The spirit of the Lord hath anointed me to preach\nthe gospel to the poor. He hath sent me to heal the contrite of\nheart. To preach deliverance to the captive, and sight to the\nblind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the\nacceptable year of the Lord_.\" [Footnote 186]\n\n  [Footnote 185: Is. xxxv. 4-7.]\n\n  [Footnote 186: St. Luke iV. 18, 19.]\n\nYes, the great time has come; the cool of the day; the evening of\nthe world; the time when labor is light and reward abundant. O my\nbrethren, you know not what a privilege it is to be a Christian!\nYou enter a church. You see a priest in his confessional. A\npenitent is kneeling at his feet.\n{445}\nThe sight makes but little impression on you, for you are\naccustomed to it, but this is that \"_fountain_\" promised by\nthe prophet \"_to the house of David and to the inhabitants of\nJerusalem, for the washing of the sinner;_\" a fountain that\nflows from the Saviour's side, and not only cleanses, but\nstrengthens and makes alive. You pass an altar. The priest is\ngiving communion. Stop! it is the Lord himself! the bread of\nangels! the wine of virgins! the food \"_whereof if a man eat he\nshall live forever_.\" And not only in the church do you find\ngrace; it follows you home. You shut your door behind you, and\nyour Father in heaven waits to hear and grant your prayer. Nay,\nat all times God is with you, for you are the temple of God, and\nHe sits on the throne of your heart to scatter His grace on you\nwhenever and wherever you ask Him. Do not say, then, Christian,\nthat you are unable to do what God requires of you. It is a sin\nof black ingratitude to say so. Even if it were impossible for\nothers to keep the law of God, it is not for you. He hath not\ndone to every nation as he hath done to you. When the patriarch\nJacob was dying, he blessed all his children, but his richest\nblessing was for Joseph. So God has blessed all the children of\nHis hand, but you, Christian, are the Joseph whom He hath loved\nmore than all His other sons. To others He hath given of \"_dew\ndew of heaven_,\" and \"_the fatness of the earth_,\" but\nyou \"_He hath blessed with all spiritual blessings in\nChrist_.\"\n\nAway, then, with the notion that obedience to the commandments of\nGod is impracticable--a notion dishonorable to God and to\nourselves. It is possible to keep free from mortal sin--for\nall--at all times, under all temptations. Nay, I will say more.\nIt is, on the whole, easier to live a life of Christian\nobedience, than a life of sin. I say \"on the whole,\" for I do not\ndeny that here and there, in particular cases, it is harder to do\nright than wrong; but taking life all through, one who restrains\nhis passions will have less trouble than one who indulges them.\n{446}\nHeroic actions are not required of us every day. In order to be a\nChristian, it is not necessary to be always high-strung and\nenthusiastic. It is not necessary to be a devotee, to adopt set\nand precise ways, to take up with hypocrisy and cant--in a word,\nto be unmanly. It is just, for the most part, the most matter of\nfact, the most practical, the most simple and straight-forward\nthing in the world. It is to be a man of principle. It is to have\na serious, abiding purpose to do our duty. It is to be full of\ncourage; not the courage of the braggart, but the courage of the\nsoldier--the courage that thrives under opposition, and survives\ndefeat, the courage that takes the means to secure\nsuccess--vigilance, humility, steadfastness, and prayer. Before\nthis, all difficulties vanish, and this is what we want most of\nall. It is amazing how little courage there is in the world. We\nare like the servant of Eliseus, the prophet, who, when he awoke\nin the morning, and saw the great army that had been sent by the\nKing of Syria to take his master, said, \"_Alas, alas, alas, my\nlord; what shall we do!_\" But Eliseus showed him another\narmy--the army of angels ranged on the mountain, with chariots of\nfire and horses of fire, ready to fight for the servants of God,\nand he said, \"_Fear not: for there are more with us than with\nthem_.\" [Footnote 187]\n\n    [Footnote 187: IV. Kings vi. 15-17.]\n\nWhy should we fear? Christianity is no new thing. The path of\nChristian obedience is not an untried path. Thousands have trod\nit and are now enjoying their reward. God, and the angels, and\nthe saints, are on our side. And there are multitudes of faithful\nsouls in the word who are fighting the good fight, and keeping\ntheir souls unsullied. We cannot distinguish them now, but one\nday we shall know them. Oh! let us join them. Yes, we will make\nour resolution now. Others may guide themselves by pleasure or\nexpediency; we will adopt the language of the Psalmist: \"_Thy\nWord is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my paths_.\"\n[Footnote 188]\n\n  [Footnote 188:  Ps. cxviii. 105.]\n\n{447}\n\nWe will be Christians, not in name, but in deed. Not for a time\nonly, but always. One thought shall cheer us in sadness and nerve\nus in weakness, \"_I have sworn and am determined to keep the\njudgments of Thy justice_.\" [Footnote 189]\n\n    [Footnote 189: Ibid. 106.]\n\n---------------------------------\n\n            Sermon XXIV.\n\n     The Spirit Of Sacrifice..\n\n  (For The Feast Of St. Laurence, Martyr.)\n\n\n  \"I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God,\n  that you present your bodies a living sacrifice,\n  holy, pleasing to God, your reasonable service.\"\n     --Rom. XVII. 1.\n\n\nThere is, my brethren, among many men who practise Christian\nduties to a certain extent, one remarkable want. I will call it\nthe want of the Spirit of Sacrifice. Compare such men with any of\nthe saints, and you will see at once what I mean. One saint may\ndiffer a great deal from another, but this is common to them\nall--a vivid sentiment of God's greatness and Sovereignty, of His\nright to do with us what He wills, and a willing and reverent\nrecognition of that right. Now the defective Christianity to\nwhich I allude lacks this spirit altogether. It differs from the\nChristianity of the saints not only in degree but in kind. Not\nonly does it fail to produce _as many_ sacrifices as the\nsaints made for God, but the idea of Sacrifice is completely\nstrange and foreign to it. It bargains about the commandments of\nGod, and, when any commandment is difficult, postpones\nfulfilment, or refuses it altogether. To prevent any of you from\nbeing content with so imperfect and unsatisfactory a sort of\nreligion, I will give you this morning some reasons why you\nshould aim to serve God in the spirit of sacrifice.\n\n{448}\n\nFirst, then, I assert that the spirit of sacrifice is necessary.\nGod requires it of us. On this point I think some people make a\nmistake. They seem to think that a willingness to make sacrifices\nfor God is one of the ornamental or heroic parts of religion, and\nthat everyday people are not required to have it. But this is not\nso. The Spirit of Sacrifice is required of everyone. I infer this\nfrom the fact that an external sacrificial worship is necessary.\nIt is frequently said that there is no religion without a\nsacrifice. And this is true. There never has been, nor indeed\ncould there be, a true religion without having some external act\nof sacrificial worship. But why is this necessary? Not simply\nbecause we are sinners and need propitiation, for some\ntheologians have thought that sacrifices would have been\nnecessary, though man had never sinned. What religion requires a\nsacrifice for, is this--to express our sense of God's supreme\nSovereignty. In a Sacrifice there is something offered to God and\ndestroyed, thus signifying that God is the Author of Life and\nDeath, our Creator, our Ruler, our Supreme Judge. The excellence\nof the Christian Sacrifice--the Sacrifice of the Mass--consists\nin this, that the victim offered is a living, reasonable, Divine\nVictim, even the Son of God Incarnate, Who by His Life and Death\nrendered most worthy homage to the Divine Majesty, and still in\nevery Mass, continually, offers it anew.\n\nThis, then, is what the Mass is given us for, and this is why we\nare required to assist at the Mass, that we may in a perfect and\nworthy manner recognize God's Sovereignty and our dependence on\nHim. When we assist at Mass, the meaning of our action, if put\ninto words, would be something like this: \"I acknowledge Thee, O\nGod, for my Sovereign Lord, and the Supreme Disposer of my Life\nand Death, and because I am not able worthily to express Thy\nGreatness, I beg of Thee to accept, as if it were my own, all the\nsubmission with which Thy Son honored Thee on the Cross, and now\nagain honors Thee in this Holy Sacrifice.\"\n{449}\nNow, it cannot be imagined that we are required to make this\nprofession to God without at the same time being required to have\nin our hearts that sentiment of God's greatness and sovereignty\nwhich we express with our lips. Our Lord did not come to suffer\nand die, and give His life [as] a sacrifice to the Father, to\ndispense us from the obligation of worshipping God ourselves, but\nto give to our worship a perfect example and a higher\nacceptability. Without our worship the Mass is incomplete. On our\nLord's part, indeed, the Sacrifice of the Mass is always\nefficacious, for He is present wherever it is celebrated; but on\nour part it is empty and unmeaning if no one really fears God,\nsubmits unreservedly to Him, is willing to do all He commands,\nand acknowledges that all that could be done for Him is too\nlittle. A worship of Sacrifice implies a life of sacrifice. This\nis beautifully illustrated in the life of St. Laurence, whose\nMartyrdom we celebrate to-day.\n\nSt. Laurence was one of the seven deacons of the city of Rome in\nthe third century of the Christian era. As deacon, it was his\noffice to serve the Mass of St. Xystus, who was at that time\nPope. \"When the persecution broke out under the Emperor Valerius,\nSt. Xystus was seized and carried off to martyrdom. As he was on\nhis way, St. Laurence followed him weeping and saying: \"Father\nwhere are you going without your son? Whither are you going, O\nholy priest, without your deacon? You were not wont to offer\nsacrifice without me your minister, wherein have I displeased\nyou? Have you found me wanting to my duty? Try me now and see\nwhether you have made choice of an unfit minister for dispensing\nthe Blood of the Lord.\" And St. Xystus replied: \"I do not leave\nyou, my son, but a greater trial and a more glorious victory are\nreserved for you who are stout and in the vigor of youth. We are\nspared on account of our weakness and old age. You shall follow\nme in three days.\" And, in fact, three days after, St. Laurence\nwas burnt to death, his faith rendering him joyful, even mirthful\nin his sufferings.\n\n{450}\n\nNow, I do not look on this conversation as poetry. Times of\naffliction are not times when men look around for fine ways of\nexpressing themselves. At such times words come straight from the\nheart. I see, then, in the words of St. Laurence the sentiments\nwith which he was accustomed to assist at Mass. As he knelt at\nthe foot of the altar at which the Pope was celebrating, clothed\nin the beautiful dress of a deacon, his soul was filled with the\nthoughts of God's greatness and goodness, and along with the\noffering of the heavenly Victim, he used to offer to God his\nfervent desire to do something to honor the Divine Majesty, the\ncolor sometimes mounting high in his youthful cheek as he thought\nhow joyfully he would yield his own heart's blood as a sacrifice,\nif the occasion should offer. Martyrdom to him was but a natural\ncompletion of Mass. It was but the realisation of his habitual\nworship.\n\nIn the early history of the city of St. Augustine, in Florida, it\nis related that a priest, who was attacked by a party of Indians,\nasked permission to say Mass before he died. This was granted\nhim, and the savages waited quietly till the Mass was ended. Then\nthe priest knelt on the altar steps and received the death-blow\nfrom his murderers. With what sentiments must that priest have\nsaid Mass! with what devotion! with what reverence! with what\nself-oblation! So, I suppose St. Laurence, and St. Xystus, and\nthe Christians of the old time were accustomed always to assist\nat Mass, with the greatest desire to honor God, the most complete\nspirit of self-sacrifice. Now, I do not say we are all bound to\nbe as holy as these great saints. I do not even say we are bound\nto desire martyrdom; but I do say there is not one kind of\nChristianity for the saints and another for ordinary Christians;\none kind, all self-denial for them, and another kind, all\nself-indulgence, for us.\n{451}\nI say God is to us what He is to the saints--our Creator and our\nSovereign; and He demands of us the worship of creatures and\nsubjects--the worship of _sacrifice_--a willingness to do\nall He demands of us now, and a readiness to do greater things\nthe moment that He makes it known to us that such is His Will.\n\nHow many difficulties, my brethren, such a spirit takes out of\nthe way of Christian obedience! It cuts off at One blow all our\nstruggles with the decrees of God's providence. How much of our\nmisery comes from murmurings against the providence of God! One\nis suffering under sickness and pain, another is overwhelmed with\nreverses and afflictions, another is irritated by continual\ntemptations. No one can deny that these are severe trials; but\nsee how the spirit of sacrifice disposes of them. It says to the\nsick man, to the suffering man, what Isaac said to his father\nAbraham on the mountain: \"See, here is fire and wood, but where\nis the victim for a burnt offering? Here are the materials for a\nbeautiful act of sacrifice. It wants only a meek heart for a\nvictim, and love to light the flame, to turn the sickbed, the\nhouse of mourning, the soul agitated by temptation, into an altar\nof the purest worship, and the language of complaint into the\nliturgy of praise. Again: it sometimes happens that a man gets\ninvolved in relations of business or friendship, or becomes\naddicted to some indulgence, which threaten to ruin his soul, and\nhe is required to renounce them, to give up the intimacy, to\nchange his business, to deny himself that indulgence. The command\nof God is distinct and peremptory: \"_If thy hand or thy foot\nscandalize thee, cut it off and cast it from thee. And if thy eye\nscandalize thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee_.\"\n[Footnote 190]\n\n    [Footnote 190: St. Matt. xviii. 8.]\n\n{452}\n\nHow does he receive it? He says: \"It is too hard.\" Too hard! And\nis it, then, only God for whom we are unwilling to do any thing\nhard? We must make sacrifices of some sort in life, and heavy\nones, too. We cannot get rid of the necessity of making them, do\nwhat we will. The world requires them of us. Our families require\nthem. Our health requires them. Our pleasure requires them. Nay,\nour very sins require them. And what we do willingly for the\nworld, for our families, for our health, our pleasure, our sins,\nshall we refuse to do for the great and good God? for Christ our\nSaviour, who did not refuse the Cross to give us an example of\nthe obedience we owe His Father?\n\nOr take another example: A person who is not a Catholic finds\nmuch that is reasonable in Catholic doctrine, but makes a great\nstumbling-block of confession; or even a Catholic gets a dread of\nit, and stays away for years and years from the sacraments of the\nChurch. Now, of course, in such cases it is only charitable to\nshow that the difficulty of confession is very much magnified,\nand that, like many other things that frighten us, it loses its\nterror when we approach it; but, to say the truth, I always feel\nsomething like shame when I hear one trying to prove to such\npersons that confession is easy; partly because I know he cannot\nsucceed perfectly, since confession is of its own nature arduous,\nand in particular cases may be very difficult; but chiefly,\nbecause I cannot help thinking if God Himself were to answer\nthem, it would be in the few strong words He has used in the Holy\nScripture: \"_Be still: and know that I am God_.\" [Footnote 191]\nA creature must not parley with his maker, a sinner with his\nJudge.\n\n    [Footnote 191: Ps. xlv. 11.]\n\n{453}\n\nYes: we shrink from the very mention of sacrifice, yet it is the\nspirit of sacrifice that makes all our duties easy. No doubt it\nis our privilege to reason about the commandments of God; and we\nshall often see, what we know is always the case, that they are\nfull of wisdom and goodness; but we need in practice some\nprinciple that is ready at hand always to be used in every time\nof trial, in every difficulty, and that is the Spirit of\nSacrifice, a profound reverence for God, an unquestioning\nconviction of His absolute right to dispose of us as He will.\nAbraham had this spirit, and therefore faltered not a moment when\nthe command came to sacrifice his son Isaac. Moses had it, and\ntherefore \"_when he was grown up, refused to be called the son\nof Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to suffer persecution with\nthe people of God, than to enjoy the pleasure of sin for a\ntime_.\" [Footnote 192]\n\n    [Footnote 192: Heb. xi. 24.]\n\nThe Christian saints have had it, and therefore they trampled on\nevery repugnance, every attachment, when it came in the way of\ntheir perfection. And this principle is the life of the great\nreligious and charitable orders of the Church. These institutions\nare a mystery to Protestants. Soon after the \"Little Sisters of\nthe Poor\" were established in London, a Protestant writer, in one\nof the periodicals of the day, described a visit he had made to\ntheir establishment, and after giving a most interesting account\nof the self-denying labors of the community, he says he was\ncurious to trace the feelings that actuated these ladies in\ndevoting themselves to duties so apt to be repulsive to their\nclass. He supposed that benevolence was the impulse most\nconcerned, but, on questioning the Sisters, found that this was\nnot the case, but that the basis of their action was a principle\nof self-renunciation for Christ's sake. To him such a motive had\nin it something strange and unnatural; but, really, this is\nalways the sustaining principle of all high religious action.\nEvery thing fails sooner or later but the spirit of sacrifice.\nThis is the spirit that does great things for God, that cuts down\nthe mountains in our road to heaven and fills up the valleys,\nmaking straight paths for our feet.\n\n{454}\n\nAnd how pleasing is such a spirit to God! Even among men such a\nspirit is highly esteemed. Who does not admire a generous,\nself-sacrificing man? In a family, who is so much loved as the\none whose thoughts are all for others? Where are such tears shed\nas over the fresh grave of a self-forgetful friend? What makes\nthe character of a mother so beautiful but the trait of\nself-sacrifice? And so before God there is nothing so beautiful\nas the spirit of Sacrifice. A religion which does not centre in\nitself, but which centres in God, that is His delight. There is\nnothing abject in such a spirit. To serve God is to reign. God\nknows our nature, and He requires of us nothing but what gives to\nour whole being its highest harmony. The man who has the spirit\nof sacrifice is a royal man. How beautiful, my brethren, is an\naltar! Every thing connected in our minds with an altar is\nbeautiful. When we think of an altar, we think of sweet flowers\nand burning lights, and smoking incense, and a meek victim, and\nworship, music, and prayer. So, in the heart where the spirit or\nSacrifice reigns, there are sweet flowers of piety, and flaming\nzeal, and the silent victim of a heart that struggles not, and\nthe incense of prayer, and the harmonies of joy and praise. Oh,\nif there is a sacred place on earth, a home of peace, a shrine, a\nholy of holies, a place where heaven and earth are nearest, where\nGod descends and takes up His abode, it is in the heart of the\nman who is penetrated through and through with the sense of God's\ngreatness, and who walks before Him in reverence and continual\nworship.\n\nMy brethren, I covet for you such a spirit. I do not always find\nit among Catholics. I remember, some years ago, when collecting\nfor a charitable object, I called on a man who was engaged in a\nlarge business, and asked for a contribution. He said, Oh yes, he\nthought highly of the undertaking, and wished to give a generous\ndonation, say one hundred dollars. When I called for it at the\nappointed time, he asked me if I did not want any goods in his\nline.\n{455}\nThey were articles of luxury, such as very few persons have\noccasion for, and I told him, no. Then he mentioned a rich\ngentleman with whom I happened to be acquainted, and asked me to\nsecure for him his custom, intimating that this donation of one\nhundred dollars depended on my success. Now I do not know that\nthis person was at all sensible of acting an unworthy part, but I\nthink you must all feel that this was very far from the spirit in\nwhich one ought to give any thing to God; and yet, my brethren,\ninferior motives enter too much and too often into our religious\nactions. Selfishness mingles too much with our piety. Oh, how\ndiluted, how paltry and feeble is our religion, compared with\nthat of other times! David refused the site for an altar that\nAreuna offered him as a gift, saying: \"_Nay but I will buy it\nof thee at a price; and will not offer to the Lord my God\nholocausts free cost_.\" [Footnote 193]\n\n    [Footnote 193: 2 Kings xxiv. 24.]\n\nMagdalene took a box of spikenard ointment, because it was the\nmost precious thing she had, and very costly, and broke the box,\nand poured it wastefully on the Saviour's head. [Footnote 194]\n\n    [Footnote 194: St. Matt. xxvi. 7.]\n\nThose who have examined the cathedrals of Europe that were built\nin the Middle Ages, tell us that away up on the outside of the\nroof, there is found carving as rich, as beautiful, and as\nelaborate as that on the parts in full sight. A human eye would\nhardly see it once a year; no matter: it was done for the eye of\nGod and the angels. Oh that you had such a spirit! I want you to\nthink more of God. I want you to fear Him more deeply, and to\nlove Him far, far more fervently. O my brethren, is the service\nyou are rendering Him at all worthy of Him? Look at the earth and\nsky that He has made; look at the glorious Throne of Light from\nwhich He sways the universe, look at the Cross, look into your\nown hearts, and answer. \"Holy things are for the Holy.\" \"_Great\nis the Lord, and greatly to be praised.\" [Footnote 195] \"O Lord\nGod Almighty, just and true, who shall not fear Thee and magnify\nThy Name!_\" [Footnote 196] \"_As the eyes of servants are on\nthe hands of their masters, and as the eyes of a handmaid are on\nthe hands of her mistress, so our eyes are unto Thee, O Lord our\nGod, Thou that dwellest in the heavens._\" [Footnote 197]\n\n    [Footnote 195: Psalm xlvii. 1.]\n\n    [Footnote 196: Apoc. xv. 3.]\n\n    [Footnote 197: Psalm cxxii. 2.]\n\n------------------------------------\n\n{456}\n\n           Sermon XXV.\n\n    Mary's Destiny A Type Of Ours.\n\n    (The Feast Of The Assumption.)\n\n\n  \"Mary hath chosen the best part,\n  which shall not be taken away from her.\"\n  --St. Luke x. 42.\n\n\nTo-day is the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. To-day she\nentered into the enjoyment of heaven. The trials and troubles of\nlife are over. The time of banishment is ended. She closes her\neyes on this world, and opens them to the vision of God. She is\nexalted to-day above the choirs of angels to the heavenly\nkingdom, and takes her seat at the right hand of her Son. I do\nnot mean to attempt any description of her glory in heaven. I am\nsure whatever I could say would fall far short, not only of the\nreality, but of your own glowing thoughts about her. Who is there\nthat needs to be told that the Blessed Virgin is splendid in\nsanctity, dazzling in beauty, and exalted in power? But, my\nbrethren, it is possible to contemplate the Blessed Virgin in\nsuch a way as to put her at too great a distance from us. It is\npossible to conceive of her glory in heaven as flowing entirely\nfrom her dignity as Mother of God, and therefore to suppose it\naltogether unattainable by us; and, as a consequence of this, to\nregard her with feelings full of admiration indeed, but almost as\ndeficient in sympathy as if she were of another nature from us.\n{457}\nNow, this is to rob ourselves of so ennobling and encouraging a\npart of our privilege as Christians, and at the same time to take\naway from our devotion to the Blessed Virgin an element so useful\nand important, that I have determined, on this her glorious\nFeast, to remind you that our destiny and the destiny of Mary are\nsubstantially the same.\n\nAnd the first proof I offer of this is, that the glory of the\nBlessed Virgin in heaven is _not_ owing to her character as\nMother of God, but to her correspondence to grace--to her good\nworks--to her love of God--in a word, to her fidelity as a\nChristian. This is certain, for it is the Catholic doctrine that\nthe Blessed Virgin, like every other saint, gained heaven only as\nthe reward of merit. Now, she could not merit it by becoming the\nMother of God. Her being the Mother of God is indeed a most\naugust dignity, but there is no merit in it. It is a dignity\nconferred on her by the absolute decree of God, just as He\nresolved to confer angelic nature on angels, or human nature on\nmen. It is no doubt a great happiness and glory for us to be men,\nand not brutes, but there is no merit in it; so there is honor\nbut no merit in the Blessed Virgin's being the Mother of God.\nNow, if she did not merit heaven by becoming the Mother of God,\nhow did she merit it? for it is of faith that heaven is the\nreward of merit. I answer, by her life on earth. It was not as\nthe Mother of God that she won heaven, but as Mary, the daughter\nof Joachim, the wife of Joseph, the mother of Jesus. It is\nimpossible to read the Gospels without seeing how careful our\nLord was to make us understand this. He seems to have been\nafraid, all along, that the splendor of that character of Mother\nof God would eclipse the woman and the saint.\n\n{458}\n\nThus once when He was preaching, a woman in the crowd, hearing\nhis words of wisdom, and, perhaps, piercing the veil of his\nhumanity, and thinking what a blessed thing it must be to be the\nmother of such a son, exclaimed: \"_Blessed is the womb that\nbare thee, and the paps that gave thee suck,_\" [Footnote 198]\nbut He answered immediately: \"_Yea rather, blessed are they who\nhear the word of God and keep it_.\" No one doubts that the\nBlessed Virgin did hear the Word of God, and keep it. So our\nLord's words are as much as to say: \"You praise my mother for\nbeing my mother; what I praise her for is her sanctity.\" In the\nsame way, when they came to Him on another occasion, when there\nwas a great throng about Him and said, \"_Behold, thy mother and\nthy brethren stand without, seeking thee_,\" He answered,\n\"_Who is my mother? and who are my brethren? And stretching\nforth his hand towards his disciples, he said: Behold my mother\nand my brethren. For whosoever shall do the will of my Father who\nis in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother_.\n[Footnote 199]\n\n    [Footnote 198: St. Luke xi. 27.]\n\n    [Footnote 199: St. Matt. xii. 48.]\n\nExternal advantages, however great, even to be related to the Son\nof God, are as nothing in his sight, compared to that in which\nall may have a part--obedience to his Father's will. Perhaps,\nalso, this is the explanation of his language at the marriage of\nCana in Galilee. When the wine failed, and his mother came to Him\nand asked Him to exert his Divine power to supply the want, He\nsaid: \"_Woman, what hast thou to do with me? My time is not yet\ncome_.\" [Footnote 200]\n\n    [Footnote 200: St. John ii. 4 (Archbishop Kenrick's\n    translation).]\n\nHe does not allow her request on the score of her maternal\nauthority, but what He refuses on this ground He grants to her\nvirtue and holiness, for He immediately proceeds to perform the\nmiracle she asked for, though, as He said, his time was not yet\ncome. So, too, on the cross He commends the Blessed Virgin to St.\nJohn's care, not under the high title of Mother, but the lowly\none of woman. \"_Woman, behold thy Son_.\" [Footnote 201]\n\n    [Footnote 201:  St. John xix. 26.]\n\nNow, why was this? Did not our Lord love his Mother? Was He not\ndisposed to be obedient to her as his mother? Certainly; but it\nwas for our sakes He spoke thus.\n{459}\nIn private, at Nazareth, we are told, he was \"subject to her,\"\nbut on these great public occasions, when crowds were gathered\naround Him to hear Him preach, when He hung on the Cross, and a\nworld was looking on, He put out of view her maternal grandeur,\nin compassion to us, lest there should be too great a distance\nbetween her and us, and we should lose the force of her example.\nHe wished us to understand that Mary, high as she was, was a\nwoman, and in the same order of grace and providence with us. We\nmight have said: \"Oh, the Blessed Virgin obtains what she asks\nfor on easy terms. She has but to ask and it is done. She enters\nheaven as the son of a nobleman comes into his father's estate,\nby the mere title of blood and lineage.\" But no: our Saviour\nsays: \"_To sit on my right hand is not mine to give you, but to\nthem for whom it is prepared by my Father_.\" [Footnote 202]\n\n    [Footnote 202: St. Matt. xx. 23.]\n\nIt is not a matter of favor and arbitrary appointment; not even\nmy Mother gains her glory in that way. She must comply with the\nterms on which my Father promises heaven to men, and therefore\nthe Church applies to her words spoken of another Mary: \"_Mary\nhath chosen the best part; therefore it shall not be taken away\nfrom her._\" Oh, blessed truth! Mary is one of us. Her destiny,\nhigh as it is, is a human destiny. And she reached it in a human\nfashion. She built that splendid throne of hers in heaven with\ncare and labor while she was on the earth. She laid the\nfoundation of it in her childhood, when her feet trod the Temple\naisles. She reared its pillars when with faith, purity, and\nobedience unequalled, she received the message of the archangel.\nAnd her daily life at Bethlehem, Egypt, and Nazareth, her holy,\nloving ways with Joseph and with Jesus, her perfect fulfilment of\nGod's law, her interior fervent acts of prayer, covered it with\ngold and ivory.\n\n{460}\n\nThen, when the blind world was going on its way of folly; while\none King Herod was deluging villages in blood, and another\nsteeping his soul in the guilt of incest, and of the blood of the\nSon of God; while the multitude were doubting, and Scribes and\nPharisees disputing about Christ, the lowly Jewish maiden, with\nno other secret but love and prayer, was preparing for herself\nthat bright mansion in Heaven wherein she now dwells, rejoicing\neternally with her Son. Oh, happy news! One, at least, of our\nrace has perfectly fulfilled her destiny. Here we can gain some\nidea of what God created us for. Here is the destiny that awaits\nman when original sin does not mar it; when co-operation with\ngrace and unswerving perseverance secure it. The Jews were proud\nof Judith. They said: \"_Thou art the glory of Jerusalem; thou\nart the joy of Israel; thou art the honor of our people._\" So\nwe may say of Mary: \"O Mary, thou art the pride of our race. In\nthee the design of God in our creation has been perfectly\nattained. In thee the redemption of Christ has had its perfect\nfruit. Mankind conceives new hopes from thy success.\" Christ,\nindeed, has entered into glory; but Christ was God. Mary is\npurely human, and Mary has succeeded. Why tarry we here in the\nbondage of Egypt? Mary has crossed the Red Sea, and has taken a\ntimbrel in her hand and sings her thanksgiving unto God. True it\nis that she is fleet of foot, and we are all halt and weak; but\neven she needed the grace of God, and the same grace is offered\nto us, that we may run and not faint. Listen to her song of\ntriumph. She does not set herself above us, but claims kindred\nwith us, and bids us hope for the same grace which she has\nreceived. \"_My soul doth magnify the Lord, for he hath exalted\nthe humble, and hath filled the hungry with good things. And his\nmercy is from generation to generation to them that fear\nHim_.\"\n\n{461}\n\nAnother proof that the destiny of the Blessed Virgin is\nsubstantially the same with ours, is the fact that the same\nexpressions are used to describe her glory and ours. Sometimes\nthose who are not Catholics, when they hear what high words we\nuse of the Blessed Virgin, are scandalized; but we use almost no\nwords of the Blessed Virgin that may not, in their measure, be\napplied to other saints. It is true that the Blessed Virgin has\nsome gifts and graces in which she stands alone--as her character\nof Mother of God, and her Immaculate Conception--but, as I said\nbefore, these are dignities and ornaments conferred on her, and\nare not the source of her essential happiness in heaven. In other\nrespects, her glory is shared by all the saints. Thus, Mary is\ncalled \"Queen of Heaven;\" but are not all the blessed called in\nHoly Scripture, \"_kings and priests unto God?_\" [Footnote 203]\nIs she said to sit at the \"King's right hand?\" and are not\nwe too promised a place at his right hand, and to \"_sit on\nthrones?_\" [Footnote 204] Is she called the \"Morning Star?\"\nand does not St. Paul, speaking of all the saints, say, \"_star\ndiffereth from star in glory?_\" [Footnote 205] Is she called a\n\"Mediatrix of Prayer\" and is it not said of every just man, that\nhis \"_continual prayer availeth much?_\" [Footnote 206] Is\nshe called the \"Spouse of God?\" and does not the Almighty,\naddressing every faithful soul, say, \"_My love, my dove, my\nundefiled?_\" [Footnote 207] Is she called the \"Daughter of the\nMost High?\" and are not we too called the \"_Sons of God?_\"\n[Footnote 208]\n\n    [Footnote 203: Apoc. i. 6.]\n\n    [Footnote 204: Apoc. iii. 21.]\n\n    [Footnote 205: I Cor. xv. 41.]\n\n    [Footnote 206: St. James v. 16.]\n\n    [Footnote 207: Can. v. 2.]\n\n    [Footnote 208: I St. John iii. 2.]\n\n\n\nThe glory of the Blessed Virgin, then, differs from that of the\nother saints in degree, but not in kind. She is not separated\nfrom them, but is one of them. She goes before them. She is the\nmost perfect of them. But she is one of them. And for this\nreason, the glory of the Blessed Virgin gives us the best\nconception of the magnificence of our destiny. When a botanist\nwishes to describe a flower, he selects the most perfect\nspecimen.\n{462}\nWhen an anatomist draws a model of the human frame, he makes it\nfaultless. So we, to gain the truest idea of our destiny, must\nlift up our eyes to the Blessed Virgin on her heavenly throne,\nand say: \"Oh! my soul, see for what thou art created.\" Think of\nthis, my brethren, as often as you kneel before her image, or\nmeditate on her greatness. You cannot be what she is, but you can\nbe like her. She is a creature like you. She is a human being\nlike you. She is a Christian like you. And her joy, her beauty,\nher glory, her wealth, her knowledge, her power--nay, even the\nmighty efficacy of her intercession--are only what, in their\nmeasure, God offers to you. \"_Glory, honor, and peace to EVERY\nONE that worketh good; for there is no respect of persons with\nGod_.\" [Footnote 209]\n\n    [Footnote 209: Rom. ii. 10.]\n\nIf these things be so, what greatness it gives to human life.\nPerhaps, if you had lived in the times of the Blessed Virgin\nMary, you would never have noticed her; or if you had known her\nby sight, what would she have seemed to you but a good little\nJewish girl, lowly and retiring in her manners and appearance?\nor, later in life, a poor young woman thrust away, with her\nhusband, from a crowded inn, or fleeing by night with an infant\nchild or, still later, the mother of a condemned malefactor,\nwatching his sufferings in the crowd. Herod did not know her, and\nthe nobles of Jerusalem were ignorant of her. She was not one of\nthe friends of the queen's dancing daughters. Even the rustics of\nthe village of Bethlehem looked down on her. She carried no\nservants about with her, and had no palace to live in. But Faith\ntells us of angel visits, of union with God, of heavenly\ngoodness, and an immortal crown. So, in like manner, how our life\nbecomes grand and dignified when it is lighted up by faith! You\nknow there are porcelain pictures, which in the hand are rough\nand unmeaning, but held up to the light reveal the most beautiful\nscenes and figures; so our common, ordinary life, rough and\nunmeaning as it often seems, when enlightened by faith becomes\nall divine.\n{463}\nThere is a little girl who learns her lessons and obeys her\nparents, and tells the truth, and shuns every thing that is\nwicked; why, as that little girl kneels down to pray, I see a\nbright angel drawing near to her, and he smiles on her and says:\n\"_Hail! Blessed art thou: the Lord is with thee_.\" That\nyoung man who, by a sincere conversion, has thrown off the\nslavery of sin, and regained once more the grace of God--\"what is\nhis heart but another cave of Bethlehem, in which Christ is born,\nand around which angels sing: \"_Glory to God in the highest, on\nearth, peace to men of good will_.\" That Christian family,\nwhere daily prayers are offered, and instruction and good example\nare given, and mutual fidelity is observed between the\nmembers--what is it but the Holy House of Nazareth?--the Home of\nJesus? Yes, good Christian, do not be cast down because you are\npoor, or because you suffer, or because your opportunities of\ndoing good are limited; live the life of a Christian, and you are\nliving Mary's life on earth. We have not, indeed, Mary's perfect\nsinlessness, but we have the graces of baptism, by which we may\nvanquish sin. We have not, as she had, the visible presence of\nour Lord, but we have Him invisibly in our hearts, and\nsacramentally in the Holy Communion. We are not \"full of grace,\"\nas she was, but we have grace without limit promised to us in\nanswer to prayer. Let us assert the privileges of our\nbirth-right. We belong to the new creation. Angels claim kindred\nwith us. God is our Father. Heaven is our home. We are the\nchildren of the saints--yes, of her who is the greatest of the\nsaints. Let us follow her footsteps, that one day we may come to\nour Assumption, the glory of which surpassed even the power of\nSt. John to utter. \"_Dearly beloved, we are now the sons of\nGod, and it hath not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that\nwhen He shall appear we shall be like Him, because we shall see\nHim as He is_.\" [Footnote 210]\n\n    [Footnote 210: St. John iii. 2.]\n\n{464}\n\nEvery thing depends an our co-operating with grace. How did the\nBlessed Virgin arrive at such glory? By corresponding to every\ngrace. See her at her Annunciation. The angel comes and tells her\nof the grace God has prepared for her. If she had not believed,\nif she had not assented, what would have come of it? Why, she\nwould have lost for all eternity the glory attached to that\ngrace. But she did not refuse. She was ready for the grace when\nit was offered. She said: \"_Fiat_,\" \"_Be it done to me\naccording to thy word_.\" Oh, how much hung on that\n_Fiat!_ an eternal glory in heaven. So it is with us. There\nare moments in our lives big with the issues of our future. God's\npurposes concerning the soul have a certain order. He gives one\ngrace; if we correspond to that He gives another; if we do not\ncorrespond, we lose those that depended on it; sometimes, even,\nwe lose our salvation altogether. This is the key of your\ndestiny--fidelity to grace. You have an inspiration from God: He\nspeaks to your soul. Oh, listen to Him, and obey Him! To one He\nsays: \"Abandon, O sinner, your evil life, and turn to Me with all\nyour heart.\" \"_Now is the accepted time, now is the day of\nsalvation!_\" To another, who is already in His grace, He sends\ninspirations to a more perfect life, a life of higher prayer and\nmore uninterrupted recollection. Another, by the sweet\nattractions of His grace, He draws away from home and kindred to\nserve Him as a Sister of Charity by the bed of suffering; or as a\nnun, to live with Him in stillness and contemplation; or as a\npriest, to win souls for heaven. Oh, speak the word that Mary\nspoke: \"_Be it done to me according to thy word_.\" Are you\nin sin? Convert without delay. Are you leading a tepid, imperfect\nlife? Gird your loins to watchfulness and prayer.\n{465}\nDo you feel in yourselves a vocation to a religious or sacerdotal\nlife? Rise up and obey without delay. Tomorrow may be too late.\nThe grace may be forfeited forever. Why stand we all the day\nidle? Heaven is filling up. Each generation sends a new company\nto the heavenly host. Time is going. The great business of life\nremains unaccomplished. By our baptism we have been made children\nof God and heirs of heaven. Labor we, therefore, to enter into\nthat rest. Mary, dear Mother, lift up thy voice for us in heaven,\nthat we, following thy footsteps, may one day share thy glory,\nand with thee praise forever God the Father. Son, and Holy Ghost.\nAmen.\n\n-----------------------------------\n\n           Sermon XXVI.\n\n        Care For The Dead.\n\n (Fifteenth Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n\n  \"And when He came nigh to the gate of the city,\n  behold a dead man was carried out.\"\n    --St. Luke VII. 12.\n\n\nIt is not at the gate of Naim only that such a procession might\nbe met. From every city \"dead men are carried out to the\ngrave\"--nay, from every house. Death knocks alike at the palace\nand the cabin. It is only a question of time with him. Sooner or\nlater he comes to all. Yes, my brethren, a day will come to each\nhome in this parish when a piece of black crape at the door will\ntell the world that death has been there. Within there will be\nstillness and sadness, and in some darkened chamber, wrapt in a\nwinding sheet, will lie the cold and lifeless form of some\nbeloved member of your family--a father or mother; a wife or\nhusband; a brother or sister; a son or daughter. After a little\nwhile even that will be taken away from you.\n{466}\nThe time of the funeral will come. The mourners will go about the\nstreets, and the dead will be buried out of your sight. I do not\nspeak of this to make you sad. On the contrary, what I am going\nto say will, I know, be a source, the only real source, of\ncomfort to you in the loss of your friends. I wish to remind you\nof your duties to the dead. Christianity does not permit us to\nbid farewell forever to our departed friends. Death, it tells us,\ndoes not sever the bond of duty and love between us and them. We\nstill have duties toward them, and in the performance of those\nduties, while we are doing good to the dead, we are procuring for\nourselves the best solace. What are those duties?\n\nFirst: To give back the dead resignedly to God. It is not wrong\nto weep for the dead. It is not wrong, for we cannot help it. It\nis as impossible not to feel pain at such a separation as it\nwould be not to suffer when the surgeon's knife is cutting off an\narm or a leg; and, what nature demands, God does not forbid.\nTherefore the Holy Scripture says: \"_My son, shed tears over\nthe dead; and begin to lament as if thou hadst suffered some\ngreat harm_.\" [Footnote 211]\n\n    [Footnote 211: Eccles. xxxviii. 16.]\n\nDo you think that poor widow of whom the Gospel speaks to-day\ncould help weeping? She had known sorrow before, but then she had\none support, a dear and only son. He was a good lad. Every body\nknew and loved him. But now he too is gone. It is strange that he\nshould go and she be left behind, but so it is: there lies his\nbody on the bier, and she is following him to the grave. See her\nas she goes along in her coarse black dress, bent with age and\nsorrow. Can you blame her for weeping, as she looks, for the last\ntime, on that dear form? At least, Jesus did not blame her. He\nlooked at her, and He sorrowed with her. He was moved with\ncompassion.\n{467}\nIt is not wrong, then, to weep for the dead, but we must moderate\nour grief, banish every rebellious thought from our heart, and\nmingle resignation with our sorrow. The Office which the Church\nsings over the dead is made up in great part of joyful psalms and\nanthems. After this pattern ought to be the sorrow of a Christian\nfamily, a sorrow that is not violent and noisy, a sorrow that\ndoes not pass the bounds of decency, a sorrow, I may say, mingled\nwith joy. How different it is in some families! You come near a\nhouse and you hear shrieks the most appalling. You go in and find\na woman abandoning herself to the most noisy and violent grief.\nHer language is little short of blasphemy. She refuses any\ncomfort. She is weeping over a dead husband. Perhaps in life she\nloved him none too well. Perhaps she made his life bitter enough\nto him, and often prayed that some harm might happen to him, and\nthat she might see him dead. And now she does see him dead. She\nwill never curse him again, and he will never anger her again. He\nis dead; and now she breaks out into the most frantic grief, and\nalarms the neighborhood. She cries; she calls upon God; she\nthrows herself on the corpse. At the funeral her conduct is still\nmore wild and disordered. Now, what is all this? I will not say\nit is hypocritical, but I say it is brutish. It is not to act as\na reasonable being, much less as a Christian. This is the way\nwith some women. The only time they ever show any love to their\nhusbands is when they are dead. Let them be: such grief will not\nlast long. Wait awhile; before her husband's body has well got\ncold in the ground she will be looking around for another match.\n\nDo not imitate such unchristian conduct. When Death enters your\nhouse, do not forget that you are a Christian. Do not\n_indulge_ your grief. Call to your aid the principles of\nyour faith. You are sad and lonely. Well, is it not better to\nfeel that this life is a state of exile? You have lost your\nprotector. And has not God promised to protect the orphan? You\nhave lost such a _good_ friend, such a bright example.\n{468}\nWell, ought you not, then, to rejoice at his safe departure? The\nearly Christians used to carry flowers to the grave, and sing\nhymns of joy because the toils of a Christian warrior were ended,\nand he had entered into rest. Hear what the Church sings:\n\"_Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord_.\" Will you weep\nbecause one you love is taken away from sin, from temptation,\nfrom the trouble to come? Will you grieve because he has secured\nfor himself the Blissful and Eternal Vision of God? But you have\nno confidence that he _was_ good, that he did die in the\ngrace of God. Suppose you are uncertain on that point, is there\nany thing better than to go with your doubts and fears before the\nHoly God, and while you offer to Him your trembling prayers for\nthe departed, to adore His Providence and say: \"The Lord gave,\nand the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the Name of the Lord.\"\n[Footnote 212]\n\n    [Footnote 212: Job i. 27.]\n\nDry up your tears, then, O bereaved Christian. \"Make mourning for\nthe dead for a day or two,\" [Footnote 213] says the Holy\nScripture. That is, do not abandon yourself to grief. Do not\nthink, because your friend is gone, that God is gone, and Christ\nis gone, and duty gone. Do not call on others more than is\nnecessary. Resume your ordinary duties as soon as possible--and\nin these duties you will find the relief which God Himself has\nprovided for our sadness, and His Grace will accompany you in the\nperformance of them.\n\n    [Footnote 213: Ecc. xxxviii. 18.]\n\nAnother duty to the dead is to perform scrupulously, as far as\npossible, their last directions. When the patriarch Jacob was\ndying, he called his son Joseph to his side, and said to him:\n\"_Thou shalt show me this kindness and truth, not to bury me in\nEgypt, but I will sleep with my fathers, and thou shalt take me\naway out of this land, and bury me in the burying-place of my\nancestors_.\" [Footnote 214]\n\n    [Footnote 214: Gen. xlvii. 30.]\n\n{469}\n\nIt was not of itself a very important request; it was, moreover,\nan inconvenient one. Yet see how promptly and carefully it was\ncomplied with. As soon as the days of mourning for Jacob were\nended, Joseph went to Pharao and said: \"_My father made me\nswear to him, saying, Thou shalt bury me in my sepulchre which I\nhave digged for myself in the land of Canaan. So I will go and\nbury my father and return. And Pharao said to him, Go up and bury\nthy father. And they buried him in the land of Canaan, in the\ndouble cave which Abraham bought for a burying-place_.\"\n[Footnote 215]\n\n    [Footnote 215: Gen. 1, 4, 5, 13.]\n\nWould that the same piety were always seen among us! A mother\ndies: the last wishes that she expresses to her children are that\nthey should be true to their holy faith and earnest in seeking\nthe salvation of their souls, and she sends a message to an\nabsent son, which will not reach him in his distant home till\nlong after she is gone, begging him to be faithful and regular in\nhis duties as a Christian. A father dies, and tells his son of a\ndebt, strictly due in justice, but of which there is no record,\nand where he will find the money to pay it. A poor girl dies, and\nconfides to some one, whom she thinks her friend, the little\nearnings of her hard labor, asking that it may be sent to her old\nmother in Ireland. Are these wishes executed? Are these children\nfaithful Catholics? Is that boy, the object of a mother's dying\ntears and prayers, regular at the sacraments? Has that debt been\npaid? Did the sad news of the daughter's death go out to the poor\nmother in the old country, softened with the evidence of that\ndaughter's piety and love? or was the money retained and\nsquandered? What! are you not afraid to add to the sin of\nirreligion and injustice the crime of breaking faith with the\ndead? Hear what God says in the Holy Scripture: \"_The voice of\nthy brother's blood crieth to Me from the earth_.\" [Footnote 216]\n\n    [Footnote 216: Gen. iv. 10.]\n\n\n{470}\n\nThe dead have got a voice, then--a voice that cries to God, that\ncries for vengeance against those who injure them. Pay, then, thy\ndebts to the dead. Redeem the promise thou hast made to the\ndying. Fulfil thy duties as an executor or administrator with\nfidelity and justice. Be exact. It is a dead man thou art dealing\nwith. Do not say, he is dead and cannot speak. Hear what the Law\nof God saith: \"_Thou shalt not speak evil of the deaf, nor put\na stumbling block before the blind: but thou shalt fear the Lord\nthy God, because I am the Lord_.\" [Footnote 217] Do you\nunderstand? God hears for those who cannot hear, He speaks for\nthose who cannot speak; and if thou makest the dead thy enemy,\nthou hast the Living and Eternal God for a Foe.\n\n    [Footnote 217: Levit. xix. 14.]\n\nAnother part of our duty to the dead is to treat their bodies\nwith respect, and to give them decent burial. We do this for two\nreasons: for what they have been, and what they are to be. Their\nbodies have been the casket which held their souls, and we love\ntheir bodies for what their souls have been to God and to us. We\nlove the eye that looked upon us with affection, the mouth that\nspoke to us words of truth and kindness, we love the ear that\nlistened to our sorrows, and the hand that soothed and blessed\nus. We love that body which was the soul's instrument here in her\nworks of piety and Christian charity. And we love that body for\nwhat it shall be. We see it as it will be when it springs from\nthe grave on the morning of the Resurrection, sparkling with\nlight, beautiful and immortal. And this is why we follow the dead\nto the grave. We go with them as we go part of the way home with\na cherished guest. We go with them in token that the love that\nunited us is not severed by death, but that we are still joined\nto them in hope and charity. Oh yes, it is right. Let the body be\nlaid out decently; the limbs composed; the eyes closed for their\nlong sleep. And when the time of burial comes, let all the\nceremonies of the Holy Church lend their aid.\n{471}\nWalk slow; let the priest in surplice and stole go before; light\nthe candles and hold the cross aloft; sing the sweet and solemn\nchant; carry the body to the church and lay it before the Altar\nof God; bring incense and holy water, and let there be High Mass\nfor the repose of the soul. Fitting ceremonies! \"Beautiful and\ntouching rites! chosen with a heavenly still to comfort the\nmourner and to honor the dead. But alas! alas! how do we see this\nduty to the dead sometimes fulfilled! A Catholic is dead. It is\ntrue there are candles and holy water, but where are the pious\nprayers? The neighbors are gathered together, but it is not to\npray. The glasses and the pipes speak of a different kind of\nmeeting. Yes, they have come there, there to that chamber, the\nCourt of Death and the Threshold of Eternity, to hold a drunken\nwake. The night wears on with stories, sometimes even obscene and\nfilthy, and as liquor does its work, curses and blasphemies\nmingle with the noisy, senseless cries and yells of drunken men.\nAre these orgies meant to insult the dead? Do these revellers\nwish to make us believe that their departed friend was, body and\nsoul, the child of Hell as much as they? So the wake is kept, and\nnow for the funeral. The man died early in the week, but of\ncourse he must be buried on Sunday. Sunday is the worst day of\nthe week for a funeral, because it is the day appointed for the\npublic worship of God, and it is wrong to draw men away from the\nchurch on that day without necessity, yet a funeral must by all\nmeans be on a Sunday. And why? Because a greater crowd can be got\ntogether on that day, and the object is to have a crowd, and to\nmake people say, such a one had a _decent funeral_. The\nfamily are poor, nevertheless a large number of carriages are\nhired, and filled with a set of people who regard the whole thing\nas a picnic or excursion. Some of them have already \"taken a\ndrop,\" and so little sense of religion have they left, that\nsometimes at the grave itself, sometimes in returning from it,\nthey raise brawls and riots that bring disgrace and contempt at\nonce on the man they have buried and the faith they profess.\n{472}\nDo you call this a decent funeral?\" I say it is a sin. A sin of\npride and ostentation. A sin of scandal and excess. A sin of\nrobbery and cruelty--of robbery and cruelty toward the poor\nchildren from whose hungry mouths and naked backs are taken the\nextravagant expenses of this ambitious display. How much better\nto have a small funeral! a funeral remarkable for nothing but its\nmodesty and simplicity, to which only the few are called who knew\nthe dead and loved him, who follow him to his long home with\nserious thoughts, like thinking men and Christians, remembering\nthat before long they must go with him into the grave and lie\ndown beside him, and who return home to remember his soul before\nGod as often as they kneel down to pray.\n\nAnd this brings me, in the last place, to speak of the duty of\npraying for the dead. It is a most consoling privilege of our\nholy faith. Death indeed fixes our eternal condition irrevocably.\n\"_If the tree fall to the south or to the north, in what place\nsoever it shall fall, there shall it be_.\" [Footnote 218]\n\n    [Footnote 218: Eccles. xi. 3.]\n\nBut the good do not always enter heaven immediately. If the sharp\nprocess by which God purifies His children on earth has not\nwrought its full effect, it must be carried on for a while longer\nin that hidden receptacle in which faithful souls await their\nsummons to the presence of God. And during this period our\nprayers in their behalf are of great avail. No part of our\nreligion has more undeniable proofs of its antiquity. As far back\nas the fourth century of the Christian era, St. Cyril testifies\nthat it was the custom \"to pray for those who had departed this\nlife, believing it to be a great assistance to those souls for\nwhom prayers are offered while the Holy and Tremendous Sacrifice\nis going on.\" [Footnote 219]\n\n    [Footnote 219: St. Cyril, Cat., lect. v., n. 9.]\n\n{473}\n\nThe tombstones of the early Christians attest the same practice,\nand St. Augustine, speaking not as a doctor, but recording a\nchapter of his own history, lets us into the innermost feelings\nof the Church of his day on this subject. In his Confessions he\ntells us that his mother St. Monica, shortly before her death,\nlooked at him and said: \"Lay this body anywhere, be not concerned\nabout that, only I beg of you, that wheresoever you be, you make\nremembrance of me at the Lord's Altar.\" And the saint goes on to\ntell how he fulfilled this request, how after her death the\n\"Sacrifice of our Ransom\" was offered for her, and how fervently\nhe continued to pray for her. But his own words are best: \"Though\nmy mother lived in such a manner that Thy Name is much praised in\nher faith and manners, yet * * * I entreat Thee, O God of my\nheart, for her sins. Hear me, I beseech Thee, through that cure\nof our wounds that hung upon the Tree, and that sitting now at\nThy Right Hand maketh intercession for us. I know that she did\nmercifully, and from her heart forgave to her debtors their\ntrespasses; do Thou likewise forgive to her her debts, if she\nhath also contracted any in those many years she lived after the\nsaving water. Forgive them, O Lord, forgive them. * * * Let no\none separate her from Thy protection. Let not the lion and the\ndragon either by force or fraud interpose himself. Let her rest\nin peace, together with her husband; and do Thou inspire Thy\nservants that as many as shall read this may remember at Thy\nAltar Thy handmaid Monica, with Patricius her husband.\"\n[Footnote 220]\n\n    [Footnote 220: St. Augustine's, Confessions, book ix., c.\n    13.]\n\nAre we as faithful to pray for our departed friends, and to get\nprayers said for them? They wait the time of their deliverance\nwith painful longing. They cannot hasten it themselves. They\ncannot merit. Their hands are tied. They are at our mercy. The\nChurch indeed prays for these in her litanies, her offices, and\nher Masses, but how little do we, their friends and relations,\npray for them.\n{474}\nThe patriarch Joseph, when he foretold to Pharao's butler, his\nfellow prisoner, his speedy restoration to honor, said to him:\n\"_Only remember me when it shall be well with thee, and do me\nthis kindness to put Pharao in mind to take me out of this\nprison_.\" [Footnote 221]\n\n    [Footnote 221: Gen. xl. 14.]\n\nBut the butler, when things prospered with him, forgot his\nfriend. So we forget our friends in the prison of Purgatory. They\nlinger looking for help from us, and it comes not. Oh, pray for\nthe dead. Death does not sever them from hope, from prayer, or\nfrom the power of Christ. Did not Martha say to our Lord in\nreference to her brother Lazarus, who was already dead: \"_I\nknow that even NOW whatsoever thou wilt ask of God (in his\nbehalf) He will give it thee!_\" [Footnote 222]\n\n    [Footnote 222: St. John xi. 22.]\n\nYes, Christ's mercy and Christ's Bounty reach even to the regions\nof the shadow of death. Christ has in His hands gifts even for\nthe dead--gifts of Consolation, of Refreshment, of Quiet, and of\nRest. Ask those gifts for those you love. With the widow of Naim\ncarry your dead to the Saviour, let your tears and prayers in\ntheir behalf meet His Compassionate Ear and Eye, and He will\nspeak to the dead: \"Young man, I say to thee Arise.\" And the dead\nshall hear His voice, and shall rise up, not yet to the\nResurrection of the Body, not yet to be \"delivered to his\nMaster,\" but to the company of the Angels, to the spirits of the\nJust, to the home of God, where they shall be \"_before the\nThrone of God, and serve Him day and night in His Temple, and He\nthat sitteth on the Throne shall dwell over them. And they shall\nnot hunger nor thirst any more; neither shall the sun fall on\nthem, nor any heat_.\" [Footnote 223]\n\n    [Footnote 223: Apoc. vii. 15, 16.]\n\n{475}\n\nI have endeavored to-day, my brethren, to speak for the dead.\nThey cannot speak for themselves, but they live, and feel, and\nthink. And sure I am that, if they could speak, their words would\nnot be in substance very different from what I have spoken. They\nwould say: \"I want no costly monument. I want no splendid\nfuneral. Still less do I wish that God should be offended on my\naccount. I ask a remembrance mingled with affection and\nresignation, the rites of the Holy Church, a quiet grave, and now\nand then a fervent, earnest prayer. And I will not forget you in\nmy prison of hope. I will pray for you, and oh! when the morning\ncomes, and my happy soul is called to Heaven, my first\nintercession at the throne of God shall be for you, whom I loved\nso well in life, and who hast not left off thy kindness to the\ndead.\n\n-------------------------------\n\n           Sermon XXVII.\n\n    Success The Reward Of Merit.\n\n (Fifteenth Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n\n    \"What things a man shall sow,\n    them also shall he reap.\"\n      --Gal. VI. 8.\n\n\nTo judge by the complaints which we hear continually around us,\nwe might conclude that the commonest thing in the world is for\nmen to fail in their undertakings. Now, I admit that it is a very\ncommon thing indeed for men to fail in obtaining what they\n_desire_. There are many men who have some darling object of\nambition which they cannot reach. But I do not think it is a very\nfrequent thing for men to fail in attaining an end which they\nsteadily aim at, and which they take the proper means to attain.\nI believe the rule is the other way. I believe success is the\nordinary result of well-directed endeavor. I know indeed that the\nHoly Scriptures tell us that \"_the race is not to the swift,\nnor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches\nto the learned, nor favor to the skilful: but time and chance is\nall_.\" [Footnote 224]\n\n    [Footnote 224: Eccles. ix. 11.]\n\n{476}\n\nBut surely all that this means is that the providence of God, for\nits own purposes, _sometimes_ interferes to thwart the\nbest-concerted measures, and to crown feeble attempts with\nunexpected success. The race is not always to the swift, but\nordinarily it is. The battle is not always to the strong, but\nwhen it is not, it is an exception to the rule. The rule is, that\nsuccess commonly attends the employment of proper and judicious\nmeans. The experience of life proves that this is true. Let us\nlook around and see if it is not so.\n\nWe will look first at the business world. Here at first sight a\nsuccession of the most surprising changes meets our eye. Men that\nwere rich a few years ago are now poor. Men that then were poor\nare now rich. The servant and his master have changed places. If\nyou return to the city after a few years' absence you will find\nthe same handsome houses lining our avenues, but the occupants of\nmany of them will be changed. The same gay carriages roll along\nthe street, but there is always a new set of people riding in\nthem, and they that used to ride now go afoot. What wonder is it\nthat men have imagined Fortune to be blindfold[ed], and the ups\nand downs of life the chance revolutions of her wheel? But when\nwe look closer, we see this is not the case. For the most part\neach fall and each success has had an adequate history. There has\nbeen a rigid bond of cause and effect. It is only a metaphor when\nwe say that riches have wings. Gold and silver, and real estate,\nand most kinds of personal property, are solid and substantial,\nand do not melt away in a night. So, on the other hand, fortunes\nare not made by accident. The rich man becomes rich by aiming at\nit and striving for it. He does not need any extraordinary genius\nperhaps, but he bends his talents, such as they are, to the task.\nHe rises early, he is constantly at his place of business, he\nkeeps himself informed of all its details, he thinks about it.\nWhen a favorable opening comes, he takes advantage of it.\n{477}\nWhen a reverse comes, he is not discouraged by it. Other men\nwould be discouraged, but he is not. Perhaps he is in middle\nlife, perhaps he has a growing family, but he looks out for a\nfresh field of enterprise, and begins anew to battle with the\nworld, and he becomes rich again. His success is owing in part,\nif you will, to favorable circumstances, but largely to his own\nenergy and industry. These were the conditions, without which no\namount of mere external advantages would have insured success.\n\nAgain, if we look to the world of Literature and Art, we find the\nsame thing. Disappointed authors and artists often talk as if\nthey were the victims of the world's stupidity or malice; as if\nmen were unable or unwilling to appreciate them. Now, I know it\nis said that such things have been. There have been men of rare\npromise, but of a sensitive nature, who have been crushed by\ncoldness and neglect, or by the hard and unfair criticism with\nwhich their first attempts were met. But this is far from being a\ncommon thing. The world likes to be amused and pleased. It is\nreally interested in having something to praise. This being so,\nhow is it possible for a man of real merit to remain long\nunrecognized? Who can imagine that the great masterpieces of\npainting, or the great poems that have come down to us from the\npast, _could_ have failed to excite the admiration of men?\nIn fact, human judgment, when you take its suffrages over wide\ntracts and through the lapse of ages, is all but infallible. In a\nparticular place it may be warped by passion; in a particular\ntime it may conform to an artificial standard; but give it time\nand room, and it is sure with unerring accuracy to detect the\nbeautiful and true. It is as far as possible, then, from being\nthe case that celebrated authors or celebrated artists have\nbecome great by accident. There may have been favorable\ncircumstances. There were undoubtedly great gifts of nature; but\nthere was also deep study and painful, persevering toil.\n{478}\nI have been told that the manuscripts of a distinguished English\npoet show so many erasures that hardly a line remains unaltered.\nThe great cathedrals of Europe were the fruit of life-long labor.\nAnd these are but instances of a general rule. When we go into\nthe workshops in which some of the beautiful articles of\nmerchandise are manufactured, we see a great fire and hear the\nclank of machinery, and men are hurrying to and fro, stained with\ndust and sweat. Now, something like this has been going on to\ngive birth to these beautiful creations in Letters and Arts which\nhave delighted the world. There has been a great fire in the\nfurnace of the brain, and each faculty of the mind has toiled to\ndo its part, and there have been many blows with the pen, the\npencil, or the chisel, until the beautiful conception is\ncomplete. Such men were successful because they deserved it. The\napprobation of the world did not create their success, it only\nrecognized it.\n\nI will take one more example of the rule I am\nillustrating--personal character, reputation. I believe, as a\ngeneral rule, it is pretty nearly what we deserve. We reap what\nwe sow. People think of us pretty much as we really are. I am not\nunmindful of the occasional success of hypocrites, nor of the\ninstances, happily not very frequent, of innocent persons\noverwhelmed by a load of unjust accusation and calumny. Again, I\nknow that when people are angry with us they sometimes say\nspiteful things which they do not mean, and when they wish to\nflatter us they say things more complimentary, but just as false.\nBut notwithstanding all this, I affirm that the judgments which\npeople who know us form of us are very nearly correct. Indeed it\nmust be so, for we cannot disguise ourselves altogether, or for a\nlong time. We cannot always wear a mask. An ignorant, ill-bred\nman may go to a tailor's and dress himself out in fashionable\nclothes, but the first word he speaks, and the first movement he\nmakes will betray his want of education.\n{479}\nSo, while we are trying to pass ourselves off for something else\nthan what we are, to a keen observer our habitual thoughts and\ncharacter will pierce through and discover our true selves. Even\nwhat our enemies say about us, when they say what they think, is\nvery likely to be true. Men have no need to invent bad things\nabout us. We have all got faults enough. They have only to seize\nthese, exaggerate them a little, caricature them, separate them\nfrom what is good in us, and they will make a picture bad enough,\nbut not too bad to be recognized as ours. Their description of us\nis like a photographic likeness. It takes away the bloom from the\ncheek, and the brightness from the eye, and the rich tints from\nthe hair. It notes down each imperfection, each frown and wrinkle\nand crookedness of feature, and there it is, a hard, severe, but\nnot an untrue likeness. In fact, my brethren, one of the last\nthings I would advise any man to attempt would be to try to seem\nsomething he is not. He is almost sure to be unsuccessful. There\nis a law in the world too strong for him--the law of justice and\ntruth, the law that binds together actions and their\nconsequences, the law that attaches honor to what is good and\nright, and contempt to what is base and false.\n\nThus we see on every side illustrations of the rule that our\nsuccess is in proportion to our merit. We sow what we reap. Much\nmore is this true in regard to religion. You have observed that\nhitherto I have been obliged to make some qualifications, to make\nsome exceptions in each of the instances I have brought forward.\nGod may prevent our becoming rich, however legitimately we may\nlabor for it, because He sees that riches would not be good for\nus. Or He may allow our talents to remain unappreciated, and our\nname to be covered with obloquy, in order to drive us to seek His\nEternal Praise. But in religion our labors are sure to meet with\nsuccess. There is absolutely no exception. Our success will be\ninfallibly in proportion to our endeavors, neither more or less.\n{480}\nYou know, my brethren, that a doctrine may be familiar to us, but\nmay not always make the same impression on us. We may hear it\nmany times and assent to it, but on some special occasion, it may\nenter our mind with such force, take such a lively hold of our\nimagination and heart that it seems new to us. This is what we\ncall _coming home to us_. Now, I remember an occasion when\nthe doctrine I have just stated thus came home to me. It was on\nhearing the words of St. Alphonsus: \"With that degree of love to\nGod that we possess when we leave this world, and no more, will\nwe pass our eternity.\" Any thing more startling and awakening I\ndo not remember ever to have heard. Not the thought of the pains\nof hell, or the horrors of sin, or the bliss of paradise, ever\nseemed to me so loud a call for action. All of heaven that we\nshall ever see, we acquire here. Perhaps you too, my brethren,\nhave not realized this sufficiently. The truth is, I think many\nmen act in regard to religion as children and weak-minded persons\ndo in regard to the things of this world--they build \"castles in\nthe air.\" This is a very favorite occupation with some people.\nThey spend hours and even days in it. It is a cheap amusement,\nand they who follow it do not usually stint themselves in the\nwarmth and color of their pictures. The only difficulty is, to\nfix a limit to their imaginary splendors. They imagine themselves\nvery rich, worth, say fifty thousand, or a hundred thousand, or\nfive hundred thousand dollars, with beautiful houses and\nfurniture, and all the elegancies of life. Or they imagine\nthemselves very famous, with a reputation as wide as the world,\nand admiring crowds shouting their praises wherever they go. Now\nsomething like this, equally silly and unsubstantial, passes in\nthe minds of many Christians in regard to their hereafter. They\nimagine that, somehow, one of these days, they will find\nthemselves caught up to the third heaven, borne by angels to the\nthrone of God, crowned with a jewelled crown, seated on a golden\nthrone, with palms in their hands, to sing forever the song of\nthe redeemed.\n{481}\nThey may be now in mortal sin, they may be in the habit of mortal\nsin; they may be the slaves of passion, drunkards, impure,\ndishonest; they may be unwilling to renounce the dangerous\noccasions of sin; or they may not be so bad as this: they may\nbelong to that class who have their periodic spells of sin and\ndevotion, and are saints or sinners according to the time of the\nyear you take them; or they may belong to a still milder type of\nungodliness, those who are negligent and cold-hearted, with a\nhost of venial sins about them, and at intervals, now and then, a\nmortal sin--no matter: somehow or other, by some kind of a\ncontrivance, all--the relapsed sinner and the habitual sinner,\nthe drunkard, the impure, the dishonest and the profane, the\nworldly and tepid, the prayerless and presumptuous--all are going\nto heaven. O miserable delusion! Does the Bible teach us this?\nWhen it speaks of a \"way\" to heaven, does it not mean that all\nmust walk in that way to reach there? When it tells us that \"the\nJudge standeth at the door,\" does it not mean, to judge us by our\nactions! Which of the saints was ever wafted to heaven in this\npassive way? Ah! the apostle tells us, \"they were valiant in\nfight,\" they fought with the wild beasts of their passions, and\nput to flight the armies of hell. No: it is an enemy that hath\nsown among you this Calvinistic poison--yes, this worse than\nCalvinistic poison, for the Calvinists did but assert that a few\nelect were saved by a foregone decree, while this practically\nextends it to every one. Do not believe it. \"_What a man soweth\nthat shall he reap_.\" \"_He that soweth to the flesh shall of\nthe flesh reap corruption, and, he that soweth to the Spirit\nshall of the Spirit reap life everlasting_.\" [Footnote 225]\n\n    [Footnote 225: Gal. vi. 8.]\n\n{482}\n\nOur days are like a weaver's shuttle, and, as they quickly come\nand go, they weave the web of our destiny. Each step we take is a\nstep in one of the two paths that fill up the whole field of\nhuman probation. Ask the Psalmist who of us shall see heaven, and\nhe will answer you, \"_Lord, who shall dwell in Thy tabernacle,\nor who shall rest on Thy holy hill? he that has clean hands and a\npure heart_.\" [Footnote 226]\n\n    [Footnote 226: Ps. xiv. 1; xxiii. 4.]\n\nAsk the Gospel, Who is that servant whom his Lord at His coming\nwill approve? and it answers: \"_Even he whose loins are girt\nabout, and whose lights are burning, as a man that waits for his\nLord_.\" [Footnote 227]\n\n    [Footnote 227: St. Luke xii. 35, 36.]\n\nWould you know who, at the end of the world, shall reap a rich\nharvest? \"_They that sow in tears_\"--in the holy tears of\ncompunction, of the love of God, and of the desire of heaven--\n\"_shall reap in joy. And he that now goeth on his way weeping\nand bearing good seed, shall come again with joy, and bring his\nsheaves with him_.\" [Footnote 228]\n\n    [Footnote 228: Ps. cxxv. 5, 6, 7.]\n\nLet us pause a moment before we conclude to try ourselves by this\ndoctrine. \"All the rivers run into the sea;\" so all our lives are\ncarrying us on to eternity. Should our lives be cut off at this\nmoment, of what kind of texture would they be found? \"_In those\ndays_,\" says the prophet, \"_Israel shall come, they shall\nmake haste and seek the Lord their God. They shall ask the way to\nSion, their faces thitherward_.\" [Footnote 229]\n\n    [Footnote 229: Jer. i. 4, 5.]\n\nAre our faces, my brethren, turned toward the heavenly city? Are\nwe hastening thither, acknowledging ourselves strangers and\npilgrims on the earth? These careless confessions, these\nheartless prayers, these darling sins, these aimless lives, this\ntepidity, this indifference and procrastination in spiritual\nthings, what do they indicate? We look at the sky to judge of the\nweather. We read the newspapers to find out the condition of the\ncountry. We watch our symptoms to ascertain the state of our\nhealth. Ah! there are indications far more important, to which we\nought to take heed.\n{483}\nIndications of salvation or reprobation, symptoms of spiritual\nhealth or decay, earnests of heaven or hell, marks of Christ or\nSatan. You remember the story of the old monk who was observed to\nweep as he sat watching the people going into church, and, being\nasked the reason, said he saw a man enter, followed by a black\ndemon, who seemed to claim him as his own. So, if we could look\ninto the spiritual world, we should see some men attended by\nangels who have come to \"minister to them as heirs of salvation,\"\nwhile others are surrounded by evil spirits, \"come to torment\nthem before their time.\" Yes, eternity does not wait for the last\nday. It presses upon us now and here. Each day is a Judgment Day.\nEach evening, as it falls, finds us gathered at Christ's right\nhand, driven to His left, or wavering between the two. Why do we\nnot take our place at once, where we shall wish to be found at\nour Saviour's coming? It is not very long since death took from\namong us a convert to our holy faith, [Footnote 230] whose life\nhad been rich in good works, who had been a mother to the orphan,\nand a sister to the outcast and abandoned; and a priest, who\nvisited her on her last illness, told me that he had said to her:\n\"If God were now to raise you up and restore you to health, I\nwould not know how to give you any other advice, than to resume\nyour good works at that point where sickness compelled you to\nleave them off.\" Beautiful testimony to a holy life! Cut the\nthread wherever you will, it is all gold. Stop the Christian\nwhere you will, he is on his way to heaven. Be such a life ours.\nI have said each day is a Judgment Day: let each day merit the\napproval of Christ. Let our life be a constant preparation for\nEternity, remembering that the only heaven the Christian religion\noffers us, is a heaven that is won by our labors here.\n\n    [Footnote 230: Mrs. Geo. Ripley.]\n\n-------------------------------\n\n{484}\n\n             Sermon XXVIII.\n\n      The Mass The Highest Worship.\n\n  (Twenty-first Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n\n  \"What shall I offer to the Lord that is worthy?\n   Wherewith shall I kneel before the High God?\"\n     --Mich. VI.6.\n\n\nSuch is the question which mankind have been asking from the\ncreation of the world. God is so high, so great, so good, so\nbeautiful. He made us. He created us by His Word, and we hang\nupon His Breath. How shall we worship Him? How shall we express\nthe thoughts of Him that fill our souls? Alas! the words of the\nlips, the postures of the body, are all inadequate. What shall we\ndo? Shall we, like Cain, gather the fairest fruits and flowers,\nand bring the basket before the Lord? Or, like Abel, shall we\ntake the firstlings of our flocks, and slay them in His honor?\nShall we dress an altar, and pile upon it the smoking victims?\nShall we make our children pass through the fire in His Name? Or,\nlike the Indian devotee, shall we throw ourselves under the\nwheels of the car that carries the image of the Divinity? Such\nhave been the ways in which men have tried to express their\ndevotion to God, but all have been either insufficient or vain.\nMan's thoughts about God have found no fitting expression. A fire\nhas burned in his heart which no words can utter. Now here, as in\nso many other ways, Christianity comes to our aid, and places\nwithin our reach a perfect and all-sufficient mode of expressing\nour devotion, a perfect worship. Do you ask me to what I allude?\nI answer, to the Sacrifice of the Mass.\n\n{485}\n\nLet me remind you what the Sacrifice of the Mass is. We Catholics\nbelieve that in the Mass Jesus Christ offers His real Body and\nBlood, under the species of bread and wine, to His Eternal\nFather, in remembrance of His Death on the Cross. Our Lord's\nDeath on the Cross was in itself complete, and all-sufficient for\nthe purpose for which it was undergone, and need not, indeed\ncould not, be repeated; but His Priestly Office was not exhausted\nby that offering. In the language of Scripture: \"_He ever\nliveth to make intercession for us_.\" [Footnote 231] And,\n\"_He is a Priest forever_.\" [Footnote 232]\n\n    [Footnote 231: Heb. vii. 25.]\n\n    [Footnote 232: Ps. cix. 4.]\n\nIn what, then, does our Lord's Priesthood since His Crucifixion\nconsist? In heaven, it consists in presenting Himself to His\nFather directly and immediately, to plead the merits of His Death\nand Passion in our behalf; but on earth it consists in\nrepresenting that Death and Passion in the mystical action which\nwe call the Eucharistic Sacrifice or the Mass; thus fulfilling\nthe words of the prophet in reference to our Lord: \"_Thou art a\nPriest forever, after the order of Melchisedec_.\" [Footnote 233]\n\n    [Footnote 233: Ibid.]\n\nThe offering, then, which takes place in the Mass is the very\nsame that was made on Calvary, only it is made in a different\nmanner. On the Cross, that offering was made in a direct and\nabsolute manner, it was a bloody Sacrifice; in the Mass, it is\nmade in a mystical and commemorative way, without blood, without\nsuffering, without death. Therefore, in order to understand what\ntakes place in the Mass, we must go back to the Cross. What was\nit that took place on the Cross? You answer, perhaps, Christ shed\nHis Blood there for the remission of sins. True: the Blood of\nChrist was the material cause of our Redemption, but that which\ngave the Blood of Christ its value, that, indeed, which made it a\nSacrifice, was the interior dispositions of the Soul of Christ.\nThe Blood of Christ, taken as a mere material thing, could never\nhave effected our reconciliation. What does the Scripture say?\n\"_Sacrifice and oblation Thou didst not desire. Burnt-offerings\nand sin-offerings Thou didst not require. Then I said: Lo, I come\nto do Thy will O God!_\" [Footnote 234]\n\n    [Footnote 234: Ps. xxxix. 7, 8.]\n\n{486}\n\nIt was by the _obedience_ of Christ, an obedience practised\nthrough His whole life, but of which His Death and Passion were\nthe fullest expression, that Christ, as our elder brother,\nrepaired our disobedience. While our Lord was hanging on the\nCross, He exercised every Divine virtue which the soul of man can\nexercise. He loved. He prayed. He praised. He gave thanks. He\nsupplicated. He made acts of adoration and resignation. In one\nword, He performed the most perfect act of _worship_.\n\nWell, it is just the same in the Mass. It would be the greatest\nmistake to think of the Body and Blood of Christ in the Mass as a\nsort of dead offering. It is living, and offered by the living\nChrist. Christ is the Priest of the Mass as well as the victim.\nIt is Christ who celebrates the Mass, and He celebrates it with a\nwarm and living Heart, the same Heart with which He worshipped\nthe Father on Mount Calvary. It is this that makes the Mass what\nit is. If it were not for this, the Mass would be a carnal\nsacrifice, infinitely superior, indeed, to those of the Old Law,\nbut of the same order. It is this which makes the Sacrifice of\nthe Mass a reasonable service, a Spiritual Sacrifice.\n\nAnd now you are prepared to understand my assertion that the Mass\nsupplies the want of the human soul for an adequate mode of\napproaching God. As a creature before its Creator, you are\noppressed with your own inability to worship Him worthily. Do you\nwant a better worship than that which His Eternal Son offers? In\nthe Mass, the Son of God in His Human Nature worships the Father\nfor us. He prays for us; asks pardon for us; gives thanks for us;\nadores for us. As He is perfect man, He expresses every human\nfeeling; as He is perfect God, His utterances have a complete\nperfection, an infinite acceptableness. Thus, when we offer Mass,\nwe worship the Father with Christ's worship. It seems to me that\nthe Catholic can have a certain kind of pride in this.\n{487}\nHe may say, \"I know I am weak and as nothing before God, yet I\npossess a treasure that is worthy to offer Him, I have a prayer\nto present to Him all-perfect and all-powerful, the prayer of His\nOnly-Begotten Son in whom He is well pleased.\"\n\nNor is this all. Christ worships the Father for us in the Mass,\nnot to excuse us from worshipping, but to help us to worship. You\nremember how, the night before our Saviour died, He took with Him\nPeter and James and John, and going into the garden of\nGethsemane, He said to them, \"Tarry ye here, while I go and pray\nyonder.\" And how, being removed from them about a stone's cast,\nHe began to pray very earnestly, so that He was in an agony, and\nthe drops of blood fell from His body to the ground; and how He\nwent to them from time to time to urge them to watch and pray\nalong with Him. The weight of all human sorrows was then upon His\nsoul. He was presenting the necessities of the whole human race\nto His Father, but He would have the apostles, weary as they\nwere, borne down by suffering and fatigue, to join their feeble\nprayers with His. So, in the Holy Mass, He is withdrawn from us a\nlittle distance, making intercessions for us with groanings which\ncannot be uttered, and He would have us kneel about the temple\naisles, adding our poor prayers to His. Our prayers, by being\nunited to His, obtain not only a higher acceptance, but a higher\nsignificance. Our obscure aspirations He interprets. What we know\nnot how to ask for, or even to think of, He supplies. What we ask\nfor in broken accents, He puts into glowing words. What we ask\nfor in error and ignorance, He deciphers in wisdom and love. And\nthus our prayers, as they pass through His Heart, become\ntransfigured and divine.\n\nOh, what a gift is the Holy Mass! How full an utterance has\nHumanity found therein for all its woes, its aspirations, its\nhopes, its affections! How completely is the distance bridged\nover that separated the creature and the Creator!\n{488}\nIt was to the Mass that our Lord alluded in His conversation with\nthe woman of Samaria. You remember the incident. The Samaritans\nwere a schismatical sect. They had separated from the Jews, had\nbuilt a temple on Mount Gerazin, in opposition to the temple of\nthe Jews at Jerusalem, and there they offered sacrifices. Now,\nthis Samaritan woman, when our Lord had entered into conversation\nwith her, put to Him the question which was then in controversy.\nWhich was the right temple? Which was the acceptable sacrifice?\nWhich was the place where men ought to worship--Mount Gerazin; or\nMount Sion? And how does our Lord answer her? \"_Woman, believe\nMe, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain nor\nyet in Jerusalem adore the Father. The hour cometh and now is,\nwhen the true worshipper shall worship the Father in Spirit and\nin Truth_.\" [Footnote 235]\n\n    [Footnote 235: St. John iv. 22, 23.]\n\nThe time is coming when a new Sacrifice, a new worship, shall be\nestablished, a worship of Spirit and Truth, a worship that shall\nput to rest the controversy between Samaria and Jerusalem, for it\nshall be offered in every place. What is that sacrifice? What is\nthat worship? The prophet had foretold it long before: \"_From\nthe rising of the sun unto the going down thereof, My Name is\ngreat among the Gentiles, and IN EVERY PLACE THERE IS SACRIFICE,\nand there is offered to My Name A CLEAN OBLATION_.\" [Footnote 236]\n\n    [Footnote 236: Mal. ii. 11.]\n\nAnd the whole tradition of the Christian Church, from the very\nfirst, tells us that this _clean oblation_ is no other than\nthe Eucharistic Sacrifice, a worship of \"Truth,\" if the presence\nof Christ can make it true; and of \"Spirit,\" if the Heart of\nChrist can make it spiritual; a worship that meets all man's\nwants and befits all God's attributes.\n\n{489}\n\nWith this conception of the Mass in your minds, you see at once\nthe explanation of some of the ceremonies attending its\ncelebration which seem to Protestants strange and senseless. A\nProtestant enters a Catholic Church during the time of Mass. The\nPriest is at the Altar. You cannot hear what he says, he speaks\nso low and rapidly; and perhaps it would do you no good if you\ncould, for he speaks in Latin; and you say: \"What mummery!\" \"What\nsuperstition!\" \"What an unmeaning service!\" But stop awhile. Take\nour view of the Mass, and see if our custom is so strange. We\nbelieve that there is an invisible Priest at the Mass, Christ,\nthe Son of the Living God, Who offers Himself to His Father for\nus. You know it is related in the Old Testament, that on one day\nin the year the Jewish High-Priest used to enter into the Holy of\nHolies, which was separated from the temple by a veil, and there\nin secrecy perform the rites of expiation, while the people\nprayed in silence without. So it is at the Mass. You see the\nPriest lift up the Host before the people. Well, that is the\nwhite veil that hides the Holy of Holies from our eyes. Within,\nour Lord and Saviour mediates with the Father in our behalf. Oh,\nbe still! Speak low! Let not the priest at the altar raise his\nvoice, lest he drown the whispers from that inner shrine. What\nneed for me to know the very words the priest is using? I know\nwhat he is doing. I know that this is the hour of grace. Earth\nhas disappeared from me. Heaven is open before me. I am in the\npresence of God, and I am praying to Him in my own words, and\nafter my own fashion. I am pouring out my joys before Him, or\nopening to Him the plague of my own heart.\n\nYes, the Catholic Church has solved the problem of worship. She\nhas a service which unites all the necessary conditions for the\npublic worship of God--a common service, in which all can join;\nan external service, which takes place before our eyes, which is\ncelebrated with offerings which we ourselves supply, and by a\nPriest taken from among ourselves; an attractive service; and yet\na service perfectly spiritual.\n{490}\nThe Catholic does not come to church to hear a man pour forth an\n_extempore_ prayer, and be forced to follow him through all\nthe moods and feelings of his own mind; nor to join in a set form\nof prayer, which, however beautiful and well arranged, must, from\nthe very nature of the case, fail to express the varying wants\nand feelings of the different members of the congregation; but he\ncomes to join, after his own fashion, in Christ's own prayer. At\nthe Catholic Altar there is the most complete liberty, the\ngreatest variety, combined with the most perfect unity.\n\nCome, then, children, come to Mass, and bring your merry hearts\nwith you. Come, you that are young and happy, and rejoice before\nthe Lord. Come, you that are old and weary, and tell your\nloneliness to God. Come, you that are sorely tempted, and ask the\nhelp of Heaven. Come, you that have sinned, and weep between the\nporch and the altar. Come, you that are bereaved, and pour out\nhere your tears. Come, you that are sick, or anxious, or unhappy,\nand complain to God. Come, you that are prosperous and\nsuccessful, and give thanks. Christ will sympathize with you. He\nwill rejoice with you, and He will mourn with you. He will gather\nup your prayers. He will join to them His own Almighty\nsupplications, and that concert of prayer shall enter heaven,\nlouder than the music of angelic choirs, sweeter than the voice\nof those who sing the song of Moses and the Lamb, more piercing\nthan the cry of the living creatures who rest not day or night,\nand more powerful and prevailing than the intercession of the\nBlessed Virgin and all the saints of Paradise together. The Mass\na formalism! The Mass an unmeaning service! Why, it is the most\nbeautiful, the most spiritual, the most sublime, the most\nsatisfying worship which the heart of man can even conceive.\n\n{491}\n\nAnd here, too, in this idea of the Mass, we have the answer to\nanother perplexity of Protestants. They cannot understand why we\nmake such a point of attending Mass. They see us go to Mass in\nall weathers. They see us so particular not to be late at Mass.\nThey see us on Sunday, not sauntering leisurely, as if we were\ngoing to a lecture-room, but pressing on with a certain\neagerness, as if we had some great business in hand; and they ask\nwhat it all means. Is it not superstition? Do we not, like the\nPharisees, give an undue value to outward observances? May we not\nworship God at home just as well? Ah! if it were really only an\noutward observance. But there is just the difference. There\nstands one among us whom you know not. We believe that the\nSaviour is with us, and you do not. We believe this with a\ncertain, simple faith. Come to our churches, and look at our\npeople, the poorest and most ignorant, and see if we do not. It\nis written on their faces. They may not know how to express\nthemselves, but this is in their hearts. You think we come to\nMass because the Church is so strict in requiring us to do so;\nbut the true state of the case is that the law of the Church is\nso strict because Christ is present in the Mass. You think it is\nthe pomp and glitter of our altars that draws the crowd. Little\nyou know of human nature if you think it can long be held by such\nthings alone. No, we adorn our altars because we believe Christ\nis present. This is our faith. It is no new thing with us. It is\nas old as Christianity. It was the comfort of the Christians in\nthe catacombs. It was the glory of St. Basil and St. Ambrose and\nSt. Augustine. It was the meaning of all the glory and\nmagnificence of the Middle Ages. And it is our stay and support\nin this nineteenth century of knowledge, labor, and disquiet.\nYes, strip our altars, leave us only the Corn and the Vine, and a\nRock for our altar, and we will worship with posture as lowly and\nhearts as loving as in the grandest cathedral. Let persecution\nrise; let us be driven from our churches; we will say Mass in the\nwoods and caverns, as the early Christians did. We know that God\nis everywhere. We know that Nature is His Temple, wherein pure\nhearts can find Him and adore Him; but we know that it is in the\nHoly Mass alone that He offers Himself to His Father as \"the Lamb\nthat was slain.\"\n{492}\nHow can we forego that sweet and solemn action? How can we\ndeprive ourselves of that heavenly consolation! _The sparrow\nhath found her an house and the turtle a nest where she may lay\nher young, even thy altars, O Lord of Hosts, my King and my\nGod!_ Man's heart has found a home and resting-place in this\nvale of tears. To us the altar is the vestibule of heaven, and\nthe Host its open door.\n\nYes, and to us the words of the prophet, when he calls the reign\nof Antichrist \"_the abomination of desolation_,\" because the\nDaily Sacrifice shall then be taken away, has a peculiar fitness.\nIt is our delight now to think that, as the sun in its course\nbrings daylight to each successive spot on earth, it ever finds\nsome priest girding himself to go up to the Holy Altar; that thus\nthe earth is belted, from the rising of the sun unto the going\ndown of the same, with a chain of Masses; that as the din of the\nworld commences each day, the groan of the oppressed, the cry of\nthe fearful and troubled, the boast of sin and pride, the wail of\nsorrow--the voice of Christ ascends at the same time to heaven,\nsupplicating for pardon and peace. But oh! when there shall be no\nMass any more, when the sun shall rise only to show that the\naltar has been torn down, the priests banished, the lights put\nout; that will be a day of calamity, of darkness and sorrow. Then\nthe beasts will groan, and the cattle low. Then will men's hearts\nwither for fear. Then will the heavens overhead be brass, and the\nearth under foot iron, because the corn has languished, the vine\nno longer yields its fruit. The tie between earth and heaven is\nbroken; _sacrifice and libation are cut off from the House of\nGod_.\n\nSuch be our thoughts, my dear brethren, about the Holy Mass. I\nhave alluded to the efforts which mankind have made to offer a\nworthy offering to God, sometimes to the extent, even, of\nsacrificing their own lives and their children.\n{493}\nWhile we abhor these excesses, let us not forget the earnestness\nwhich inspired their misguided devotion. And we, to whom God has\ngiven a perfect worship, a worship not cruel, but beautiful,\ninviting, consoling, satisfying, shall we be less devout in\noffering it? No! come to Mass, and come to pray. When the Lord\ndrew near to Elias on the mount, the prophet wrapped his face in\nhis mantle; so when we come to Mass, let us wrap our souls in a\nholy recollection of spirit. Remember what is going on. Now pray;\nnow praise; now ask forgiveness; now rest before God in quiet\nlove. So will the Mass be a marvellous comfort and refreshment to\nyou. You know the smell of the incense lingers about the sacred\nvestments worn at the altar long after the service is over; so\nyour souls shall carry away with them as you leave the church a\ncelestial fragrance, a breath of the odors of Paradise, the token\nthat you have received a blessing from Him whose \"fingers drop\nwith sweet-smelling myrrh.\"\n\n-----------------------------\n\n          Sermon XXIX.\n\n     The Lessons Of Autumn.\n\n  (Last Sunday After Pentecost.)\n\n  \"All flesh is grass,\n  and all the glory thereof as the flower of the field.\n  The grass is withered and the flower is fallen.\"\n      --Isaias XL. 6, 7.\n\n\nIt is but a few weeks since you were told that the natural world\nhas lessons of deep spiritual importance to teach us. Our Lord,\nas we see in the Gospel, sometimes drew the text of His discourse\nfrom the flowers of the field, sometimes from the birds of the\nair; and it must be evident to any reflecting mind that this was\nnot done as a mere exercise of fancy on His part, but was the\nDivine Interpretation of these messages of love which from the\nbeginning He had commissioned Nature to tell us. Nature, then, is\nreally _intended_ by God to be our Teacher. It is my purpose\nthis morning, to direct your thoughts to one part of its\nteaching--that is, the spiritual instruction suggested to us by\nthe season of Autumn.\n\n{494}\n\nHere, in the Church, where we have always the same doctrines, and\nthe same worship, we might forget how all things without are full\nof change and decay, were it not that the Church uses Nature as a\nhandmaid, and calls her within the sanctuary to adorn the Altar\nwith her gifts. We miss today the flowers that have been so\nplentiful all summer, and this tells us what is going on without.\nThe crown of flowers which the Spring brought forth to grace our\nEaster festival, and which were the truest type of the\nResurrection, which made that feast so joyful, have all perished.\nThe rose of Whitsuntide, the floral wealth of Corpus Christi, the\nwhite lily of midsummer, have all gone their way. \"The glory of\nLebanon is departed; the beauty of Carmel and Sharon.\" In the\ngarden and the field, where so lately there was every kind of\nfruit and flower that is pleasant to the eye and sweet to the\nsmell or taste--there are now but a few dried leaves, and the\nskeletons of trees and shrubs shaking and rattling in the wind.\nNothing green is left except \"the fir-tree and the box-tree and\nthe pine-tree together,\" patiently enduring cold and snow so as\nto be on hand when the Holy Night comes round, and the Heavenly\nBabe is born, to make his humble home glad and beautiful with\ntheir green wreaths and branches. The birds that peopled the\nwoods and made them merry with their music have gone south,\nleaving their summer home silent and desolate. The days are\nshort. Clouds flit across the sky. The air is strong and keen,\nand men shut it out and make all warm and snug within. Yes, the\nlittle time that has elapsed, since we began to number our\nSundays from Easter, has been a full cycle of being in the\nvegetable world. Spring has given place to summer, and summer to\nautumn. Seed-time and harvest have followed each other, and now\nthe dreary winter has commenced. \"The grass is withered and the\nflower is fallen.\n\n{495}\n\nAnd what does all this mean to us? I am sure all of you\nunderstand it well. This season speaks to us in tones that reach\nevery human heart. It tells us that we are dying. It is strange\nhow slow we are to realize this. I look around this church, and I\nsee many dressed in the dark garments that tell they are mourning\nfor the dead. In what house, indeed, is the family unbroken?\nWhere is there not a vacant seat at the table? Who of us has not\nlost a friend? And yet we rarely think that we too are soon to\nfollow them. Now, God wishes us to think of this. He tells us of\nit by our reason, He tells us of it by our vacant hearths and\nhomes; He tells us of it by sermons, and by His word, but, not\ncontent with this, He makes the natural world, heir with us of\nthe sentence of mortality, a monitor to us of this great truth.\n\"_Day unto day uttereth speech if it, and night unto night\nsheweth knowledge of it_.\" [Footnote 237]\n\n    [Footnote 237: Ps xviii. 3.]\n\nBut at certain seasons He tells us of it more distinctly and in a\ngreater variety of ways. Would you know what the Autumn teaches?\nHear the Holy Ghost, Himself interpret it: \"_The voice said,\ncry; and I said, what shall I cry? All Flesh is grass and all the\nglory thereof as the flower of the field: the grass is withered\nand the flower is fallen_.\" [Footnote 238] \"_In the morning\nman shall grow up like the grass; in the evening he shall fall,\ngrow dry and wither_.\" [Footnote 239] \"_Man born of a woman,\nliveth for a short time, and is filled with many miseries. He\ncometh forth as a flower and is destroyed; he fleeth as a shadow\nand never continueth in the same state_.\" [Footnote 240]\n\n    [Footnote 238: Isaias xl. 6, 7.]\n\n    [Footnote 239: Ps. lxxxix. 6.]\n\n    [Footnote 240: Job xiv. 1, 2.]\n\nOh, do not require God always to speak to you in a voice of\nthunder: listen to Him when He speaks gently. Open your eyes and\nears, and receive instruction from the sights and sounds of\nNature. We are dying: the sighing winds tell us so.\n{496}\nWe are dying: the falling leaf tells us how Death will soon\n_have power over us as a leaf carried away by the wind, and\npursue us as a dry straw_.\" [Footnote 241] We are dying: the\nharvest-man is discharged, so \"_our days are like the days of\nan hireling, and the end of labor draweth nigh_.\" [Footnote 242]\nWe are dying: the short days tell us that to us \"_the sun\nand the light and the moon and the stars will soon be\ndarkened_.\"[Footnote 243]\n\n    [Footnote 241: Job xiii. 25.]\n\n    [Footnote 242: Job vii. 1.]\n\n    [Footnote 243: Eccles. xii. 2.]\n\nWe are dying: the earth hath already wrapped itself in its\nwinding-sheet of snow, to foretell to us the time when, stiff and\ncold, we shall be dressed for the grave. We are _all_ dying.\nAre you young? Well, the young are dying. Life is but a lingering\ndeath. _As soon as we are born, we began to draw to our\nend_. Every path in life leads straight to the grave. Are you\nold? are you sick? Ah! then, there is a voice within you which\nrepeats the warning from without. You are not as strong and well\nas you once were. Time was you felt within you a fount of health\nand strength that defied danger and despised precaution. What a\nstrange, fierce joy it was for you to struggle with the\nbuffetings of the wintry blast! But, somehow, you know not how,\neither it was an accident or an imprudence, there came over you\nnow and then a pain, a cough, a strange weariness, and the raw\nwind steals away from your cheek the bloom which once it\nimparted, and sends a chill to your heart. What does it mean? I\nwill tell you. It is the shadow of mortality. You are dying. Men\ndo not realize this. They do not realize it of themselves, and\nthey do not realize it of others. Death is always a surprise and\nan accident. It is one of the things in the world on which men do\nnot count.\n\nIt is something which has nothing to do with us until the doctor\nstands over us, and says we have but a few days or a few hours to\nlive. We speak of the dead with pity, as if they were the victims\nof some unlucky chance which we had escaped. This ought not to be\nso. \"_It is appointed for man once to die_.\" [Footnote 244]\n\n    [Footnote 244: Heb. ix. 27.]\n\n{497}\n\nBecause we are living, therefore we must die. Adam in Paradise\nmight have escaped death if he would, but since Adam's sin and\nour loss of integrity, the sentence of death has passed upon all.\nThere is no reflection which a man can make more certainly true\nthan this: I must die. The time is fixed. There shall come to me\na day that knows no setting, a night that knows no dawn. The\nlights shall be lit in the church; the pall spread over the bier;\nthe priest singing Mass at the altar. My body shall lie under\nthat pall, and my name be mentioned in that Mass. From the church\nmy body shall be carried to the grave, and my soul be happy or\nmiserable according to the deeds it hath done on earth. I do not\nknow _when_ I shall die. Youth is no protection against\ndeath. Health is no protection against death. I do not know\n_where_ I shall die. No corner of the earth can hide me from\nHis summons. I do not know _how_ I shall die, whether at\nhome, among my friends, with the rites of the Church, with my\nreason, with a quiet mind--or abroad, or suddenly, or without the\nlast sacraments, or with a heavy load of sin on my soul, or in a\nstate of insensibility. All these things are uncertain; this only\nis certain, that I must die--that I must die, that _my_ turn\nshall come; and others shall speak of me as I speak now of those\nalready dead.\n\nBut some of you may say, why tell us this? Life is short at the\nbest, why vex ourselves with thinking of that which we cannot\nprevent. We have got many projects in hand, many pleasures in\nprospect, and we do not want to paralyze our energies and sadden\nour days by meditating always on death. No, my brethren, I do not\nask you to think of death in order to paralyze your energies, but\nto direct them aright; not to sadden your days, but to make them\ncalm and tranquil. I know that a celebrated modern writer has\nmade it a matter of reproach against Christianity that it sends\nmen to learn the solemn lessons of the grave.\n{498}\nBut surely this reproach is unreasonable. It cannot be denied\nthat men do die. The earth has already many times seen an entire\ngeneration of her inhabitants pass away. There are many more\nsleeping in the ground than live on its surface. Now, if this be\nso, if death is an inevitable fact in our history, and a fact on\nwhich much depends--if this life is not all, but after this life\nthere is an Eternity dependent on our conduct here, it is plain\nthat reason requires us to think of death, and he is foolish who\nforgets it. Besides, the thought of death is enjoined upon us by\nthe Almighty, as a sure means of salvation: \"_In all thy works\nremember thy last end, and thou shalt never sin_.\" [Footnote 245]\n\n    [Footnote 245: Eccles. vii. 36.]\n\nAnd I will say more. The thought of death really contributes to\nour comfort, because it is the only way of getting rid of the\nfear of death. Suppose you do refuse to listen to the warnings\nwhich Death suggests, are you therefore free from anxiety? Is\nthere no trouble in your conscience? Is there nothing frightful\nto you in a sleepless night, or a sickbed? would you hear with\nequanimity that you had a hopeless disease? No, it is the coward\nthat will not think of death, who \"_all his life through fear\nof death is subject to slavery_.\" Act like a man. Face this\nKing of Terrors, and you disarm him. His countenance is stern,\nbut his words are kind and friendly. Listen to him, and you will\nfind that he can relax his grim features and smile upon you; and\nthere is nothing can give you such comfort, as for death to come\nto you with a smiling face. The sting of death is sin: be careful\nto avoid sin, and then at his coming you can exclaim: \"O death,\nwhere is thy victory! O death, where is thy sting!\" [Footnote 246]\n\n    [Footnote 246: I. Cor. xv. 55.]\n\n{499}\n\nOh, it is a shame and a disgrace that Christians think so little\nabout death. Why, death is our best friend and our wisest\ncounsellor. A London anatomist once placed over his\ndissecting-rooms this inscription: \"_Hic mors juvat succurrere\nvit\u00e6;_\" \"Here death helps to succor life.\" You see the\nmeaning. The physician takes a dead body and studies it, spends\ndays and nights over it, repulsive as it is, in order to learn\nthe secrets of the living frame and how to minister to its\ncomplaints. So let the Christian look at death and learn from it\nhow to keep his soul in health, how to secure its everlasting\nlife. It is nothing very terrible that death has to tell us now.\nThe time will come, if we refuse to hear him now, when his words\nwill be terrible; but now, though solemn, though calculated to\nmake us serious and thoughtful, they need not make us gloomy. He\nsays, you have a great work to do, and little time to do it\nin--time enough, but none to spare. He says to the young: Look at\nme, look into my face, and see the value of beauty and of\npleasure. He says to the proud: Come and see how kings and\nbeggars lie side by side in my dominion. He says to the covetous:\nCome, open a grave, and see what a man carries away with him when\nhe dies. And he says to all, you must die alone; what you are,\nwhat you have made yourself, so must you appear before God, to\nreceive a just and final sentence. This is the sermon of Death,\nthat he has been preaching from the beginning. It never grows\nold. It has converted more sinners than all missionaries and\npreachers by any other means. It has made more saints, induced\nmore to embrace a religious life, sent more souls to heaven than\nany other sermon ever did. Oh! Death is a great preacher. There\nis no answer to his reasonings, no escape from his appeal. He\nspeaks not, but his silence is eloquent. He makes no gestures,\nbut that motionless arm of his is more expressive than the most\nimpassioned action. There is a story told of a certain man named\nGuerricus, which shows how powerfully death preaches. This man\nwas a Christian, but one who loved the world too well, and one\nevening he strayed into a church when the monks were singing\nmatins.\n{500}\nThe hour, the place, all invited to reflection, and as he stood\nand listened, one of the monks came forth, and in a loud, clear\nvoice sang the lesson of the day. It was as follows: \"_And all\nthe time that Adam lived, came to nine hundred and thirty years,\nand he died. And Seth lived after he begat Enos eight hundred and\nseven years, and all the years of Seth were nine hundred and\ntwelve years, and he died. And Enos begat Cainan. And all the\nyears of Enos were nine hundred and five years, and he died. And\nall the days of Cainan were nine hundred and ten years, and he\ndied_.\" [Footnote 247]\n\n  [Footnote 247: Gen. v. 5.]\n\nSo it came at the end of every period, the same melancholy\ncadence, _Et mortuus est_, \"and he died.\" The words rang in\nthe ear of Guerricus. \"So then,\" said he, \"that is the end of\nall. The longest life ends with that record--_and he died_.\nSo it will one day be said of me.\" And with this reflection on\nhis mind, he went away and distributed his wealth to the poor,\ncommenced a life of mortification and prayer, and began in good\nearnest to prepare to die. Happy those who after this example are\nled by the thought of death to enter on a really devout life!\nThey will not be confounded in the evil day. They will not be\nafraid of any evil tidings. When the great prophet Elias was\nabout to leave this world, the sons of the prophets came to tell\nEliseus of it as a piece of afflicting news, saying: \"_Dost\nthou know that the Lord will take away thy master from thee\nto-day?_\" [Footnote 248] And he said: \"_Yes, I know it, hold\nyour peace._\" So when the good Christian's last hour comes on,\nand sorrowing friends approach his bed to break it to him that he\nis dying, he can say, Yes, I know it. It is no news to me. I have\nlong known it. I have expected it. _Dying_, you say. \"So\nthen,\" I can exclaim with St. Teresa, \"the hour is come!\" the\nhour I have so long been waiting for, the hour I have labored\nfor, the hour that is to end my exile here, and unite me for ever\nto my Saviour and my God!\n\n    [Footnote 248: I. Kings ii. 3.]\n\n{501}\n\nI tried just now to describe to you the desolation that is now\nspread over the face of Nature; but a few weeks ago the scene was\nquite different. The fields were laden with a golden harvest, and\nthe husbandman was gathering it in with joy. He knew that winter\nwas coming, and he prepared for it. In the morning he sowed his\nseed, and in the evening he withheld not his hand. He labored in\nthe chill, uncertain spring, and in the hot days of summer, and\nwhen autumn came, he gathered his fruits into the garner, safe\nfrom the frosts of winter. So he who thinks of death makes the\nmost of the spring-time of life, takes care in his youth to plant\nin his heart the seeds of piety, and to tear up the weeds of\nvice, guards his soul in the storms of temptation, labors\nuntiringly through the heat and burden of life, and, when his\nlast hour arrives, lies down in peace, confident that he shall\nenter into those fruits of righteousness which, by patient\ncontinuance in well-doing, he has laid up for the time to come.\n\nI commend these thoughts to you all, my brethren; but there are\nsome among you to whom I commend them especially, those, namely,\nwho are to die soon. When the captains of Israel were assembled\ntogether at Ramoth-Galaad, the messenger of Eliseus appeared in\ntheir midst and said, \"_I have a message to thee, O\nprince._\" And they answered, \"_To which one of us all?_\"\n[Footnote 249] So I feel this morning as if I had a message to\nsome of you in particular, though I do not know who they are. The\nmessage is that which Jeremias the prophet sent to Hananias:\n\"_Thus saith the Lord, this year shalt thou die_.\" [Footnote 250]\n\n    [Footnote 249: IV. Kings ix. 5.]\n\n    [Footnote 250: Jer. xxviii. 16.]\n\n{502}\n\nHow many of those who were alive a year ago are now dead! How\nmany of those who listen to me now will be dead before another\nyear rolls round! Now, to these persons it is a question of the\nmost pressing urgency, \"Am I now as I would wish to be when I\ndie? When Death comes, it will not wait because you are laden\nwith sins or unprepared. It will not wait for you to send for the\npriest or finish your confession, or to receive absolution. At\nthe moment that sentence is given, you must yield up your soul,\nin whatever state it is. Now, then, is the time to put your house\nin order. Perhaps you are not a Catholic. You are lingering\noutside the Church, with misgivings in your heart that only in\nher fold you can secure your salvation. Will those misgivings\nhelp you to die easily? Will those ingenious and far-fetched\narguments, by which you fortify yourself against conviction now,\ngive that peace to your soul, which the broad, strong, plain\nevidence of the Faith imparts to the soul of a Catholic? Would\nyou not like, as you go out of this world, to step on the firm\nrock of Peter? To go hence \"with the sign of faith,\" with the\nblessing of the Mother of Saints upon you, and the grace of her\nsacraments within your heart?\n\nOr, you are a Catholic, but a careless one. You have the load of\nyears of sin on your conscience. When you come to die, will you\nnot wish to have those sins blotted out? Will you then forego as\nyou do now those absolving words which our Lord has promised to\nratify in heaven? Will you trust all to the uncertain chance of\nconfession in that hour, or to a doubtful contrition?\n\nOr it is a cloud of venial sins--a veil of worldliness, and\nselfishness, and unfaithfulness, of omissions and neglects, that\ndarkens your soul. Do you wish to die with that veil not taken\naway? Do you wish to go before God as careless and as sensual as\nyou are now? Are you spending your time as you would wish to\nspend the last year of your life? Oh! be diligent. The night\ncometh. Work while it is day. \"_Whatsoever thy hand is able to\ndo, do it earnestly; for neither work, nor reason, nor wisdom,\nnor knowledge shall be in the land of the dead whither thou art\nhastening_.\" [Footnote 251]\n\n    [Footnote 251: Eccles. ix. 10.]\n\nReceive instruction. Be not of the number of those who have\nfoolishly thrown away their salvation.\n\n{503}\n\nThere are stories of men's passing through grave-yards on dark\nand stormy nights, and hearing dismal sounds, as of a restless\nand unhappy soul complaining of its torments. You say it is the\nwind. Suppose it is: may not the wind be speaking for the dead?\nIs not the earth for the elect? Does not Nature sympathize with\nman? Does not every creature groan and travail for our\nredemption? [Footnote 252] Did not the prophet call upon the\nfir-trees and the oaks to \"howl\" for the destruction of\nJerusalem! [Footnote 253]\n\n    [Footnote 252: Rom. ix. 22.]\n\n    [Footnote 253: Zacb. xi. 2.]\n\nDid not the sun hide its face at the crucifixon of our Lord, and\nthe earth tremble under His Cross? And when He comes to judgment\nwill not the stars fall from the sky and the heavens be parted as\na scroll? Is not, then, that instinct of humanity right which has\nunderstood the fearful sounds and sights of Nature as Divine\nutterances--pictures and voices of a woe that is unspeakable and\nindescribable. There is a bird in South America with a cry so\nmelancholy that it is called _The Lost Soul_. And Nature,\nthat speaks there to the hearts of men by that dismal cry, tells\nthe same story to us by the storm at sea, and the moaning and\nsighing and shrieking of the wind on a winter's night. What\naileth thee, O sea, tossed and driven with the waves? Let the\nScriptures answer. \"_The voice of the Lord is upon the waters,\nthe God of majesty hath thundered, the Lord is upon many\nwaters_.\" [Footnote 254]\n\n    [Footnote 254: Ps. xxviii. 3:]\n\nWhy does the winter come upon us with desolation and storm? Let\nthe Holy Scripture answer again: \"_The vineyard is confounded,\nand the fig-tree hath languished. The pomegranate-tree, and the\npalm-tree, and the apple-tree, and all the trees of the field\nshalt wither because joy is withdrawn from the children of\nmen._\" [Footnote 255]\n\n    [Footnote 255: Joel i. 12.]\n\n{504}\n\nYes, there are sad things in nature because there is death and\nreprobation among men. The days grow short out of sorrow for the\nlost children of God, and the wintry heavens \"are black with\nclouds, and winds, and rain,\" because to many \"_the harvest is\npast, the summer is ended, and they are not saved_.\"\n[Footnote 256]\n\n    [Footnote 256: Jer. viii. 20.]\n\n-----------------------------\n\n            THE END\n\n\n{505}\n\n  Various Works By The Paulist Fathers.\n\n            For Sale By\n\n           Lawrence Kehoe,\n\n        Nassau Street, New York\n\n-------------\n\n  Sermons of the Paulist Fathers, for 1861               $1.00\n  Sermons of the Paulist Fathers, for 1862               $1.00\n  Sermons of the Paulist Fathers, for 1863               $1.00\n  Sermons of the Paulist Fathers, for 1864               $1.50\n\n  Questions of the Soul. By Rev. I. T. Hecker            $1.00\n  Aspirations of Nature. By Rev. I. T. Hecker            $1.00\n  Guide for Catholic Young Women. By Rev. G. Deshon.     $0.90\n  Catholic Hymns and Canticles, together with a\n    complete Sodality Manual. By Rev. Alfred Young       $0.80\n\n          -------------------------\n\n    Any of the above Books sent by mail,\n    postpaid, on receipt of the price.","title":"Sermons of the Rev. Francis A. Baker, Priest of the Congregation of St. Paul: With a Memoir of His Life","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":178789}