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THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

MONTHLY MAGAZINE

GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.

VOL,. UV.
OCTOBER, 1891, TO MARCH, 1892.

NEW YORK :

THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD,

120-122 WEST SIXTIETH STREET.

1892.

THE COLUMBUS PRESS, 120-122 WEST 60 ST. NEW YORK.

CONTENTS.

Amenities of the School Adjustment,

The. Rev. Thos. Jefferson Jenkins, 582

Apostolate of Congregational Song,

The. Rev. Alfred Young, . . 738

Attitude of the Educated Protestant
Mind toward Catholic Truth, The.
Prof. W. C. Robinson, . . . 644

Big : Boss's Parade, The. Edith Brower, 854

Birthplace of Columbus. Rev. L. A.

Dutto, 47 8

Burmans and Buddhism. Dorn Adal-
bert Amandoline, O.S.B., . 176,331

Cardinal Manning. John G. Kenyan, 633

Cardinal Manning. Henry Charles

Kent, . . . . . .793

Centenary of St. John of the Cross,

The, 493

Church and State. Rev. E. B. Brady,

C.S.P., .389

Columbian Reading Union, The, 150, 308,
463, 625, 776, 932

Columbus's Ancestry and Education.

Rev. L. A. Dutto, .... 815

Convention of the Apostolate of the
Press, The. Rev. Walter Elliott, 381

Convert's Story, &.A. C. O. M. . 271

" Dat Freedmun's Bureau." F. C. Far-

inholt, . . .... 204

Dr. A. White on St. Francis Xavier's
Gift of Tongues. Rev. Thomas
Hughes, S.J., . . . ' . .20

Dr. Bouquillon and the School Ques-
tion, 420

Dr. Bouquillon's Rejoinder. . . 735

Dreams and Hallucinations. William

Seton, 822

Educational Value of Christian Antiqui-
ties, The. Right Rev. Robert Seton,
D.D., i

Fortunes of a Poor Young Maid, The.

Stanislaus Monk, . . . 69-233

From Darkness to Light. M. M. . 109

Henry George and the late Encycli-
cal. Charles A. Ramm, . . 555

Indian Laws of Canada, The. Rev. J.

A. J. McKenna. .... 62

Irish Scapin, An. Richard Ashe King. 397

Irish Tories and Irish Local Govern-
ment, The. George McDermot, . 833

Jews in Early Spanish History, The.

Manuel Perez Villamil, . 86, 360

Labor Problem in Great Britain, The.

Rev. Gilbert Simmons, . . . 372

Lessons of the Irish Census. -Jeremiah

MacVeagh, 215

Life of Father Hecker, The. (Conclu-
sion.)^^. Walter Elliott, . 33, 159

Little Pettus.Jfarotd Dijon, . . 97

Lost Lode, The. Christian Reid. 504, 661

Memorial-Sketch of Cardinal Manning.

Or by Shipley, . . . 712, 841

Miss Pearsely's Christmas Infair. Rob-
ert Dashwood, ..... 423

Mr. Cahensly and the Church in the
United States. Rev. Henry A.
Brann,D.D 568

New Stone Age in Gaul, The. William

Seton, 344

Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe. Charles

E. Hodson, 727

Old World Seen from the New, The,

118, 279, 434, 590, 753, 906

Pauper's Christmas, A. S. M. H. G., 354

Pirogue of the Auriculas, The. Harold
Dijon, 317

Puebla. Charles E. Hodson, . 10

Recollections of Florida and the South.

Gen. E. Parker Scammon, . . 691

Reindeer Age in France, The. William
Seton, 265

Royal Patroness of Columbus, The.

Richard Malcolm Johnston, . . 541

Saint Bernard. B. B., . . . . 225

South Before, During, and After the
War, The. Gen. E. Parker Scam-
mon, ...... 875

Speaking to the Century. Rev. William

Barry, D.D., 683

Story of a Conversion, . . . 750

Talk about New Books, 134, 292, 444, 603,

762, 918

"The Women of Calvary." Annie

Blount Storrs, 803

University of Cambridge, The. Kath-
arine Tynan, 185

Warfare of Science, The. Very Rev.

Augustine F. Hewit, . . . 194

When was Columbus Born ? Rev. L. A.

Dutto, 652

With the Publisher, 156, 313, 469, 629, 786, 940

Witness of Science to the Miracles at

Lourdes, The. B., . . . .897

Birth of Christ, The. Henry Neville,

Blessed Virgin at the Marriage Feast at
Cana, To the. Rev. Alfred Young,

Columbus. Right Rev. John L. Spald-

Columbus and the Sea-Portent. Aubrey
de Vere, ......

Columbus the World-Giver. Maurice
Francis Egan, ....

Hie Jacet. Patrick J. Coleman,

Joy-Bringer, The. Maurice Francis
Egan,

POETRY.

331 Legend of the Rhine, A. Henry Ed-
ward O'Keeffe

.,30 Newman and Manning. Rev. H. T.

690

475

554
874

108

Henry,

Revelations of Divine Love (made to a
Devout Servant of Our Lord named
Mother Juliana.) Rev. Alfred
Young, ......

Sir Edwin Arnold. T. A. M.,

Strong City, A. George Parsons La-
throp, . . ...

Summum Bonum. Louise Imogen Gui-

725

791
832

660

CONTENTS.

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Abraham Lincoln,

Across Russia from the Baltic to the

Danube, ......

Amaryllis,

Among the Camps : Elsket

Back from the Dead, ....

Being of God as Unity and Trinity,

The,

Bertha ; or, Pope and Emperor,.

Better Dead,

Book of Pity and of Death, The, .
Bras d'Acier ; or, On the Gold-path in

'49.

Business of Life, The, ....
By Right, not Law, ....
Canon of the Old Testament, The,
Catholic School History of England,

Cecilia de Noel,

Children's Stories in English Literature,

from Shakspere to Tennyson,
Christian Apology, A, ....
Christianity and Infallibility: Both or

Neither, . . . .
Christopher Columbus,
Christ our Teacher, ....
Convention of the Apostolate of the

Press, The,

Correct Thing for Catholics, The,

Cruel City, The,

Cursus Vitae Spirituals,
Cut with His Own Diamond,
Darkness and Dawn ; or, Scenes in the

days of Nero,

Debt of Hatred,

Der Masorahtext des Koheleth-kritisch

untersucht von Sebastian Euringer,

priester der Diocese Augsburg,
Divine Order of Human Society, The,-
Duchess of Powysland, The,
Edleen Vaughan ; 'or, Paths of Peril,
Eleven Possible Cases,
Elsie's Vacation and After Events,
Essays in English Literature,
European Relations, ....
Explanation of the Baltimore Catechism

of Christian Doctrine, An,

Fairy-Lore,

Fatal Request, The, .

Father Stafford,

Frenchman in America, A, ...

Girl in the Karpathians, A, .

Good Christian, The ; or, Sermons on

the Chief Christian Virtues,
Great Grandmamma and Elsie,

Guiding Star,

Guide in Catholic Church Music,
Hand-book of the Christian Religion,
Hierarchy of the Catholic Church in

the United States, The,
History of David Grieve, The,

Historical Essays,

History of the Popes from the Close of

the Middle Ages, The,

Holiday Stories,

Homer in Chios

Hotel d'Angleterre, and Other Stories,

How to Get On,

Illustrated Catholic Family Annual,

1892

Indian Idyls,

Introduction to the Literature of the

Old Testament, An, ....

Japonica, . . ....

Jesus Christ : Our Saviour's Person,

Mission, and Spirit, ....
John Sherman and Dhoya, . . \

450

292

295
609
924

461
924
610
9 2 3

143

298
298
928
148

607
144

924

770
292
455

6l2

444
142

456
6 *5
767
607
142
451
445
608

774
608
298
299
605
139

930
45i
775
619

145

930
918
'47

771
771
142

*
769

455
924

621
603

457
608

Judith Trachtenberg, .... 603

Lady Jane, 458

Lady of Fort St. John, The, . . 604
Letters of the late Father George Por-
ter, S.J., Archbishop of Bombay, . 145
Life of Jesus Christ according to the

Gospel History, .... 306

Life of St. Aloysius Gonzaga, . . 454

Life of St. John de Rossi, The, . . 149
Life of the Blessed Angelina of Mar-

sciano, Virgin, . . . . . 135

Life's Handicap : Being Stories of Mine

Own People, ..... 138

Little Grain of Wheat, The, . . 150
Little Minister, The, . . . .927

L'CEuvre des Apotres, .... 453

Lover's Year-book of Poetry, The, . 447
Manuals of Catholic Philosophy : Natu-
ral Theology, ..... 304

Marie Antoinette and the Downfall of

Royalty, ...... 604

Marie Antoinette at the Tuileries, . 134

Mary of Nazareth ; A Legendary Poem, 136

Miracles, 461

Miss Maxwell's Affections, . . . 298

New Job, The, 767

New Man at Rosmere, The, . . . 143
New York Obelisk, The ; Cleopatra's

Needle, 772

Nun, Her Friends and Her Order, A, . 449

On Christian Art, 610

On Newfound River, .... 138
On the Border with Crook, . . 614
Palace of Shushan, and other Poems, . 606
Parnell Movement, The, . . . 139
Philip ; or, The Mollie's Secret, . . 612
Poems, . . '.' . . . 448
Points of View, ..... 295
Practical Introductory Hebrew Gram-
mar, A., ...... 928

Pretty Michal, 766

Price of a Coronet, The, ... 298
Real Japan, The ; Studies of Contem-
porary Japanese Manners, Morals,

Administration, and Politics, . . 765

Rituale Romanum, .... 929

Rose and Ninette : A Story of the

Morals and Manners of the Day, . 926

Ruling the Planets, .... 925

Russian Priest, A, .... 293

Schism of the West and the Freedom of

Papal Elections, , 303

Shall Girls Propose ? .... 608

Simplicity, ...... 618

Some Emotions and a Moral, . . 295

St. Ignatius and the Early Jesuits, . 620

Stories of the Saints, .... 451

Studies : Literary and Social, . . 447

Study in Girls, A, 771

Swan of Vilamorta, .... 448

Tad ; or, " Getting Even with Him," 451

Tales of To-day and Other Days, . . 608
Through the Red-litten Windows, and

The Old River House, ... 766
Tom Playfair ; or, Making a Start, . 605
Tom Tucker and Little Bo-Peep, . 451
Trade of Authorship, The, . . . 929
Vision of Life, A ; Semblance and Real-
ity, 762

Watchwords from John Boyle O'Reilly, 624
Will of God in Trials, Difficulties, and

Afflictions, ..... 774

Witch of Prague, The, .... 296

Within Sound of the Weir, . . . 298
Youth of the Duchess of Angouleme,

The, 922

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LIV. OCTOBER, 1891. No. 319.

THE EDUCATIONAL VALUE OF CHRISTIAN ANTI-
QUITIES,

THE archaeologist is one who studies the past history, the ex-
isting state, the form, uses, and meaning of ancient things, who
explains the origin and purpose of buildings, monuments, inscrip-
tions, coins, medals, vases, instruments, and in general, if we may
use the word, of all the materia which by gradual accumulation
has been preserved in a bodily shape, and is known collectively
by the name of Antiquities. With the revival of letters in the
fifteenth and the renaissance of art in the sixteenth century an
immense enthusiasm was excited for the discovery, study, and
preservation of Greek and Roman pagan antiquities, which alone
were styled classical. The learned men of that great age did
not give their attention to, but rather disdained, the subject of
Christian antiquities. Poggio Bracciolini, for many years an
apostolic secretary, turning his thoughts

"To Latium's wide champaign, forlorn and waste,
Where yellow Tiber his neglected wave
Mournfully rolls " (Dyer " Ruins of Rome"),

made excavations at Ostia, since so fruitful a soil of Christian
discoveries, and in the Campagna around Rome, without one
gleam of knowledge or a single thought of the inestimable
treasures of ancient Christianity which lay around him and be-
neath his feet in the subterranean cemeteries of the early Chris-
tians, being solely occupied with searching for such miserable
remains of fallen empire as might serve to contrast the latter
state of Rome with her former magnificence. Even the honora-
ble and important office under the Papal government of com-

2 THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. [Oct.,

missioner of antiquities, a charge instituted by Pope Paul III. in
1534, and first conferred upon the celebrated Latino Manetti, is
chiefly if not. exclusively directed to the care and preservation
of monuments of profane archaeology. The pagan grandeur of
Rome seized on men's minds, at this period, with a perfect frenzy :
and there exists an original letter in the Vatican archives from
Raphael Sanzio, the great architect and painter, to his patron
Leo X., concerning that pope's design of a systematic restora-
tion of the classical monuments of the city. It was on this
occasion that some one wrote, in anticipation of such an event
made impossible, however, by the premature death of both artist
and pontiff an enthusiastic epigram :

" Tot proceres Romam, tarn longa struxerat actas
Totque hostes et tot saecula diruerant ;
Nunc Romam in Rpma quaerit reperitque Raphael "-

which may be rendered :

Tyrants and Fire and Time have crushed the " Imperial City " :
A thousand years have passed and shown to her no pity ;
Now Raphael Rome, in Roman ruin, seeks:
Finds, and restores her loss in fewer weeks.

Hallam, in his Introduction to the Literature of Europe, says
of this prejudice for antiquity : " The tide of public opinion had
hitherto set regularly in one direction ; ancient times, ancient
learning, ancient wisdom and virtue, were regarded with unquali-
fied veneration ; the very course of nature was hardly believed to
be the same, and a common degeneracy was thought to have
overspread the earth and its inhabitants" (iii. p. 459). Thus was
engendered in the minds of more reasonable men a prejudice
against the study of archaeology; isolation too and want of ex-
perience making its followers often more bookish than learned,
and forcing them into a ridiculous pedantry such as is so hu-
morously described in Scott's Antiquary ; for a fanatical lover of
the antique per se is less a genuine antiquary than a mere anti-
quit arian^ such an one as is justly placed by Milton in the first
rank of the three great hinderers of progress, for, as Bacon says
in his essay on Innovations: "They that reverence too much
Old Times are but a scorne to the New." This, however,
should be understood only of an extravagant devotion to anti-
quity; because archaeology, which is the study of antiquities, is
of its very nature one of the most respectable and agreeable
studies: one especially adapted to men of scholarly leisure and
of letters, who are instinctively men of conservative ideas,

THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. 3

searching the past for a key to the present. It excites the im-
agination and elevates the mind beyond the ken of material ob-
jects, and justifies the remark of Doctor Johnson in his reflec-
tions among the ruins of lona : " Whatever withdraws us from
the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or
the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dig-
nity of thinking beings." This is also w r ell expressed by the late
lamented Monsieur de Caumont in his famous Cours cT Antiqui-
tes, as quoted by Professor Reussens, of the University of Lou-
vain, in the introduction to the first volume of his Elements
d 1 A rchcolog ie Ch rc'tienne.

" There is," he says, "a powerful attraction, a source of deep
emotions in the remains of generations that have passed away.
It is pleasant to withdraw one's self from the present day and,
going back to remote ages, to enter into the lives and thoughts
of those who then lived. It is an illusion, easier felt than ex-
pressed ; but perfectly well understood by men endowed with
the imaginative faculty."

On the last day of May, in the year 1578, some laborers
who were digging in a vineyard on the Via Salaria, about two
miles beyond the walls of Rome, happened to break into a gal-
lery of graves, ornamented with Christian paintings, with Greek
and Latin inscriptions, and with two or three sculptured stone
cofrins, called sarcophagi. Such a discovery at once attracted
universal attention, and persons of all classes and of every
nationality in the city flocked to see it. " Rome was amazed,"
says a contemporary author, " at finding that she had other cities,
unknown to her, concealed beneath her own suburbs, beginning
now to understand what she had before only heard or read of,"
and, we may add, had heard but vaguely and had read of in
very scanty notices. With this important discovery dawned the
propitious era of Christian Archaeology. The learned Baronius
was then engaged upon his immense work, the Ecclesiastical
Annals ; he made repeated visits to the scene of this subterranean
revelation, and in more than one page of his volumes he shows
the warmth of his interest in the new discovery, and his just
appreciation of its importance. We can hardly conceive of a
more signal vindication of the church's traditions ; nor a more
consoling spectacle for a devout Catholic, mourning over the
schisms and heresies of those unhappy times ; nor a more strik-
ing commentary on the Divine Word : " They shall fight against
thee, and shall not prevail ; for I am with thee, saith the Lord,
to deliver thee " (Jeremias, i. 19). It was doubtless a providen-
VOL. LIV. i

4 THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. [Oct.,

tial circumstance that just about the time when the Protestant
Reformers, tired of revolutions and religious wars, had persuaded
their learned men to engage in calmer controversy and appeal
directly to primitive doctrines and institutions, the Roman Cata-
combs revealed their long hidden and neglected treasures, and
that remains of every kind of early Christian art now found an
honorable place in private cabinets and in public museums ; and
that Christian archaeology occupied a large share of the attention
of honest and erudite men. We may here (despoiling, as it were,
the Egyptians) apply the splendid words of the Areopagitica :

" Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation
rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her in-
vincible locks. Methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty
youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam,
purging and unsealing her long-abused sight at the fountain itself
of heavenly radiance ; while the whole noise of timorous and
flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter
about, amazed at what she means, and in their envious gabble
would prognosticate a year of sects and schisms."

From the inexhaustible mine of the Roman Catacombs have
since this period been drawn that multitudinous collection of
Christian antiquities and early inscriptions which, with so much
taste and with such skill and art, were, by order of Pope Pius
VII., placed on one side of the long corridors leading to the
Vatican library and facing an equally multitudinous collection of
pagan inscriptions and antiquities. This juxtaposition is interest-
ing and triumphant. I would not venture to use my own words
to describe the effect when we have in those of the late Cardinal
Wiseman such an animated description as the following :

"You walk along an avenue, one side adorned by the stately
and mature, or even decaying, memorials of heathen dominion ;
the other by the young and growing and vigorous monuments
of early Christian culture. There they stand face to face, as if
in hostile array, about to begin a battle long since fought and
won. On the right may be read laudatory epitaphs of men
whose families were conspicuous in republican Rome, long in-
scriptions descriptive of the victories and commemorative of the
titles of Nerva or Trajan ; then dedications to deities, announce-
ments of their feasts, or fairs in their honor ; and an endless
variety of edicts, descriptions of property, sacred and domestic,
and sepulchral monuments. The great business of a mighty em-
pire still in glory, military, administrative, religious, and social,
stands catalogued on the wall. What can ever take its place ?
And the outward form itself exhibits stability and high civiliza-
tion. These various records are inscribed with all the elegance

1891.] THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. 5

of an accomplished chisel, in straight lines and in bold uncial
letters ; with occasional ornaments or reliefs, that bespeak the
sculptor, on blocks or slabs of valuable marbles, with a beauty
of phrase that forms the scholar's envy. Opposite to these im-
perial monuments are arranged a multitude of irregular broken
fragments of marble, picked up apparently here and there, on
which are scratched, or crookedly carved, in a rude Latinity and
inaccurate orthography, short and simple notes, not of living
achievements, but of deaths and burials. There are no sounding
titles, no boastful pretensions. This is to a ' sweet ' wife, that to
' a most innocent ' child, a third to * a well-deserving ' friend. If
the other side records victories, this only speaks of losses ; if
that roars out war, this murmurs only soft peace ; if that adorns
with military trophies, this illuminates with scourges and pincers ;
the one may perhaps surmount with the soaring eagle, the other
crowns with the olive-bearing dove. Here are two antagonistic
races, -speaking in their monuments, like the front lines of two
embattled armies, about to close in earnest and decisive battle :
the strong one, that lived upon and over the earth and thrust its
rival beneath it, then slept secure, like Jupiter above the buried
Titans ; and the weak and contemptible one, that burrowed be-
low, and dug its long and deep mines, and buried its dead in
them, almost under the palaces whence issued decrees for its ex-
termination, and the amphitheatres to which it was dragged up
from its caverns to fight with wild beasts. At length the mines
were sprung, and heathenism tottered, fell and crashed, like
Dagon, on its own pavements. And through the rents and fissures
basilicas started up from their concealment below, cast in moulds
of hardened sand, unseen in these depths ; altar and chancel,
roof and pavement, baptistery and pontifical chair, up they rose
in brick and marble, wood or bronze, what they had been in
friable sandstone below. A new empire ; new laws ; a new civili-
zation, a new art ; a new learning, a new morality, covered the
space occupied by the monuments to which the inscriptions
opposite belonged " (Recollections of the Last Four Popes, page
155).

It was standing in this long and magnificent vestibule of the
Museo Pio-Clementino that we were first most strongly impressed
with the fascinating interest of the study of Christian antiquities,
in which are seen the earliest expressions of our faith and the
earliest origin of our religious practices ; and we at once per-
ceived its greater importance over that of heathen antiquities,
which may, indeed, amuse a leisure hour, satisfy a passing curios-
ity, or open the mind to a clearer understanding of obscure pas-
sages in the works of classical authors ; but can have otherwise
no practical utility. Truly the words of that old seventeenth
century writer, Thomas Reinesius the continuator of Gruter's
enormous collection of Latin inscriptions are well worth ponder-

6 THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. [Oct.,

. ing : Antiqnitatis Christiana particula quceque, qudvis pagana est
nobilior honoratiorque " The least fragment of an ancient Chris-
tian monument is nobler and more valuable than any remains
whatsoever of pagan antiquity." It must be remembered, how-
ever, in this connection, that it is extremely difficult to give an
interesting, or even a perfectly intelligible, course of Christian an-
tiquities in a country in which we have not the very monuments
themselves to refer to, and in which we cannot study the treas-
ures contained in great collections ; for, as the poet said, " That
which we hear moves less than what we see."

Our weekly visits, during a long residence at Rome, to the
Christian museums of the Vatican and the Lateran, under the
guidance of the famous Visconti, and to the Kircherian Museum
with its learned curator, Father Marchi, which used to be made
by the pupils of these professors while still under the impression
of their lectures, and the frequent examination, with the cele-
brated De Rossi, of the different catacombs around the city in
which so many early monuments and inscriptions are still pre-
served in situ delightful antiquarian excursions made doubly en-
tertaining and instructive by the felicity of expression, the charm
of language, the expert familiarity with their subjects possessed
by these men of more than European reputation constantly re-
minded us of what Doctor Johnson said of Percy, the author of
the Reliques : " Percy's attention to poetry has given grace and
splendor to his studies of antiquity. A mere antiquarian is a
rugged being."

Christian archaeology may be divided into two sections : 1st.
The manners and customs of the early Christians on which sub-
ject the celebrated Abbe Fleury published a short but elegant
treatise in 1682, M&urs des Chretiens ; and 2d. Their monuments.
Under the first head are treated the peculiar traits and differ-
ences between the Christians and their neighbors in pagan so-
ciety, in the eras of persecution, in periods of toleration, of par-
tial liberty, and finally of open and exclusive protection on the
part of the state. We learn their virtues, their trials, the cal-
umnies directed against them, the various modes of torture em-
ployed against them ; we learn to know their forms and the cir-
cumstances of private prayer and of public worship, in the houses
of individuals, in subterranean recesses and other hiding-places,
and finally in magnificent and imperial basilicas. We learn their
special discipline, the liturgy of the sacrifice and the ritual of the
sacraments ; the hierarchy with its several grades and orders, the
councils, religious associations, and the manner of meeting and

1891.] THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. 7

of opposing abuses, schisms, and heresies. We are led to study
their institutions for fraternal assistance, such as alms-giving, col-
lections, hospices, hospitals, the care of the sick and the aban-
doned ; the education of the young : schools, libraries, and the
occupations and professions which Christians could follow and
those which they conscientiously rejected. We see their provi-
sions for the passage of life : preparation of the dying, funeral
services, sepulture. Under the second head (of monuments,
namely) six principal subjects are usually embraced, and to these
all others can be conveniently reduced. They are architecture,
sculpture, painting, engraving, earthenware or pottery, and do-
mestic or miscellaneous objects.

The utility, the importance, and the consequences of the
study of Christian antiquities is very great. An old manuscript,
or even a whole series and class of manuscripts, might have
been mutilated in bad faith or altered through ignorance or the
neglect of copyists ; but the monuments, great and little, of
Christian archaeology could suffer no such treatment. They are
now as they were then, and are irrefragable, although mute, wit-
nesses of those very early ages of the Christian Church. Many
converts were made by the study of Bosio's great and pioneer
work on the Roman Catacombs ; and I do not believe that any
one can examine carefully and critically the testimony of Chris-
tian antiquities without becoming convinced that, as an histori-
cal fact, there is no essential matter of belief and of practice
presently retained by the Catholic Church which was not also
believed and practised by the early Christians. The late very
learned and celebrated Italian theologian, Father Perrone, S.J.,
was so well aware of the importance of the appeal to antiquity
as proving and illustrating continuity of faith and discipline, that
he has a special chapter in the third volume of his work, entitled
Prcelectiones Theologica, on the singular proofs of Christian tradi-
tion then recently brought to light ; devoting one section to the
testimony of ancient inscriptions and the other to that of an-
cient paintings, sculptures, and engravings. But almost a century
earlier another Jesuit, the Spaniard Father Gener, published in
six volumes the Theologia Dogmatico-Scholastica, sacrce Antiqui-
tatis Monumentis illustrata, Romce, 1767-1777. There is a notable
instance in ecclesiastical history of a direct appeal to an old
Christian monument in vindication of Catholic doctrine, when
the mosaic over the arch of the church of Saint Mary Major, at
Rome, made by order of Pope Sixtus III. (432-440), was cited
at the second general Council of Nice, held in the year 787,

8 THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. [Oct.,

against the Iconoclasts, to prove the tradition concerning the
worship of images. And I might mention here, as evidencing
the proofs that can be drawn from Christian antiquities upon
one of those much-disputed points between Catholics and non-
Catholics, viz., the worship of Mary, the great use made of
them in a remarkable work on the Blessed Virgin published by
a Protestant firm at London in 1868, in which the author has
given exact copies of extremely ancient paintings and sculptures,
and has drawn in nineteen chapters Catholic evidence from
Christian archaeology.* So important has the study of Christian
archaeology come to be recognized that chairs of this subject
have been successively established in some of the principal semi-
naries of Italy and of France that of Milan being the first to
endow such a professorship, in 1849 and in the famous Univer-
sity of Louvain, in Belgium.

I will now say a few words on the sources and the litera-
ture of Christian antiquities, because, as Dr. Johnson remarked,
a great part of knowledge consists in knowing where knowledge
is to be found. The most learned investigators of Christian
antiquities have been in past times Ciaconius, a Spanish Domi-
nican ; Philip de Winghe, a Fleming; John L'Hureux, better
known under the name of Macarius, a Frenchman ; Anthony
Bosio, a Maltese ; and, to be brief and not specify their coun-
tries, Lucas Hostenius, Leo Allatius, Armighi, Fabretti, Boldetti, >
Bottari, the Marquis Maffei, Buonarotti, Marangoni, D'Agincourt,
Father Lupi, and, in more recent times, Raoul-Rochette, Novaes,
Father Marchi, Cardinal Pitra, Edmond Le Blant whose spe-
cialty is epigraphy De Richemont, Greppo, Barbet de Jouy,
Allard, Franz Xaver Kraus, in Germany, and Northcote and
Brownlow, in England, are the principal ones who have written
on particular points or special subjects of Christian archaeology.

It will be seen that the Italians and the French are those
who have chiefly cultivated this science. Our dear and learned
friends and teachers, Father Sarrucci, S.J., whose last and greatest
work was the History of Christian Art during the first eight
centuries of our era, in six volumes elephant folio, and the Com-
mendatore John Baptist de Rossi, whose works on the Roman
Catacombs, on the Christian inscriptions of the first five centu-
ries, and on the ancient mosaics and tesselated pavements of the
churches and basilicas of Rome are the principal monuments of
his genius, stand apart from and above all other writers on the

* The Woman Blessed by all Generations. Rev. Raphael Melia, D.D. London : Long-
mans, Green & Co.

1891.] THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITIES. 9

matter of which we treat, both for the special aptitude and skill
that they have brought to this study, and for the advantages
which they possess of having under their eyes the very latest dis-
coveries of Christian archaeology which have been made in Italy,
France, Asia Minor, and Africa, which, strange as it may seem
at first sight, although long a " dark continent " in every sense,
has recently thrown a flood of light on the researches of Chris-
tian archaeologists. An English scholar and divine, Joseph
Bingham, published in ten volumes octavo, in 1722, his famous
work entitled Origincs Christiana ; or, Antiquities of the Christian
Church. It was impossible that an Anglican of that age should
not pervert the testimony of the past ; and his work is worthless
except for polemical purposes or as a literary curiosity. Pope
Benedict XIV. somewhere remarks that we should not expect
much profit out of our reading if we seek information from un-
safe authorities, and Archbishop Dixon says, in his Introduction to
the Sacred Scriptures : " It is not laudable to seek knowledge in
all sorts of books. Water from the pure fountain is delicious to
the weary traveller ; but it is better to endure thirst than to
drink of the poisonous stream." The publication of Bingham's
Antiquities gave occasion to a celebrated Dominican, Thomas
Mamacchi, to write his monumental work, in Latin, Origines et
Antiquitates Christiana, of which a new, enlarged, and more cor-
rect edition was issued at Rome, in six volumes, 1841-1851. The
original and this later edition were published at the expense of
two wealthy and scholarly South Americans : the Very Rev.
Father Roselio, of Peru, having defrayed the expenses of the
first edition, and his Excellency Mouttinho-Rima, Brazilian
minister to the court of Rome, having been the Maecenas of the
second.

In approaching the study of Christian archaeology we must
remember that a knowledge of Latin is absolutely required, as
the celebrated Stephen Morcelli insists in the preface to his
work on Latin inscriptions, which is addressed Cultoribus An-
tiquitatis.

ROBERT SETON.

10 PUEBLA. [Oct.,

PUEBLA.

ONE of the most important cities in Mexico, and possibly the
most attractive one, is Puebla de Zaragoza, as it is now officially
styled, in memory of the Mexican general of that name, who
here repulsed the French attack on the 5th of May, 1862. It is,
however, better known as Puebla de los Angeles (the Angelic
City), as it was called for three centuries and a half, and is still
styled in common parlance. In this title is recalled the legend
of its foundation, which is variously narrated by different ch'roni-
clers, who, however, agree in this: that in 1529 the Bishop Fray
Julian Garces contemplated the foundation of a city hereabouts
which should serve as a station between the coast and the capi-
tal, and should also gather together and usefully employ the
vagrant Europeans wandering aimlessly about the country. The
prelate saw in a vision two angels measuring the ground and
laying out the future city. He shortly afterwards came to the
spot which he recognized as that seen in his dream, and here
the foundations of the town were laid in April, 1532, forty
Spanish families forming its first inhabitants, the neighboring In-
dians aiding them by supplying materials with great readiness
and good will.

At present Puebla is a clean, bright, and regular city of some
seventy thousand souls, over one hundred miles south-east of the
capital, and at an elevation of over seven thousand feet above
the sea-level. Between the two cities tower the twin snow-clad
volcanoes with impossible Aztec names, their summits full ten
thousand feet above our heads. Two lines of rail, the Mexican
and the Interoceanic connect Puebla with the coast and the capi-
tal ; but it does not owe its importance to either of these, its
prosperity being of old standing. If one arrives by the Mexican
Railway's branch line from Apizaco, one alights at a commodious
station ; the Interoceanic is located in the old church of San
Marcos, where the shrieks of locomotives have taken the place of
mass-bells. The Mexican Southern, which starts from Puebla, is
being rapidly constructed, and will traverse the rich State of
Oaxaca. The consequence of all this railroading is that one
meets a large number of English engineers and railway officials
at the Hotel Diligencias. The Universal is hard by, and should
be inspected for its tasteful fagade and its inner courts, gay in

1891.]* PUEBLA. II

embellishments of red, blue, and white tiles, arrayed in pleasing
designs. This glazed tile-work is a feature of the place, and a
stroll through the streets is a perpetual pleasure, delightfully
decorated houses adorning every thoroughfare ; whilst when
viewed from an elevation the glistening domes of the numerous
churches, red and yellow, white and blue, produce an effect of
dazzling loveliness worthy of the Arabian Nights.

Some score of factories are situated in or near Puebla, and a
concession has lately been granted for a railway to connect some
of these with each other and the city. "A factory in this coun-
try is not the prosaic, money-grinding mill of hideous aspect
that one finds in Manchester ; of course it is run for profit, but
in an' aesthetic country like Mexico a fabrica is nothing if un-
lovely, and fountains and fish-ponds, groves of evergreens and
flower-gardens, act as a setting to the airy work-shops, where
cotton goods or tiles, glass or soap, are manufactured.

Outside the city are a succession of quarries. Here is reaped
the most abundant crop of the district ; for the ribs of these
mountains are formed of a dark, durable stone somewhat like
blue basalt, of which the city and its beautiful palaces, temples,
and mansions are constructed, and we see venturesome quarry-
men, like Shetland bird-catchers or animated plummets, dangling
at dizzy heights from the extremities of slender cords, and
patiently with their crowbars detaching huge masses of rock from
the flanks of the cliffs. Hereabouts is the Fort of Loreto, so
called because it encloses the church, which a devout Indian of
the last age erected in memory of his deliverance whilst belated
on this spot in a terrific hurricane. Though this stronghold is
recent, it has no value for defensive purposes ; but a few soldiers
still occupy the place. The church is in decay, as is also the
penitential cobblestone road, over which pilgrims from the city
used to reach the shrine, passing beneath a fine archway with
representation of the Holy House of Loreto, surmounted by a
figure of St. Michael, now all crumbling away. Half a mile off,
and at a higher elevation, is the Fort of Guadalupe, which, like
the others, has been constructed around an ancient pilgrimage
church, or rather around its site, for the walls were employed to
strengthen the earthworks hastily thrown up to defend the posi-
tion, and little now remains to indicate its former position but
the crypt, once used as a powder magazine ; the chaplain's house,
now occupied by a veteran of the war ; and a ruined cloister,
where lie a couple of dismounted cannon half a century old.
The custodian conducted us from point to point of the fortress,

12 PUEBLA. '[Oct.,

fighting the various sieges of Puebla over again from the Mexican
point of view, of course. And, indeed, the Mexicans may be ex-
cused for the fuss they annually make on the 5th of May, the
second holiday of the year in point of dignity, when they vaunt
the prowess of Zaragoza and his brave handful of followers, who
here repulsed the attack of a superior French force. From a
military point of view the achievement was inconsiderable, but
this was the first occasion on which the national forces had suc-
ceeded in coping successfully with the sprightly Gallic chasseurs
and zouaves, and it gave heart to the obstinate resistance of
Juarez and his followers. The real battle of Puebla was that in
April, 1867, when the present Mexican President stormed the
works, considerably strengthened since the last assault, and cap-
tured not only the city but its French defenders.

The views to be obtained from the bastions of the fort well
reward one for the dusty journey from town. Behind us tower
the majestic volcanoes, with their glistening crowns of snow ; to
the right, beyond the hill of St. John with its sky-blue hacienda
with arcaded fagade, is the famous pyramid of Cholula, sur-
mounted by the church of Los Remedios. At our feet lies the
city, rectangular, compact, and gay in the many-hued tints of
graceful campaniles and enamelled domes, relieved here and
there by refreshing intervals of cool green foliage, restful to the
eye and to the weary body ; pleasant plazas and plazuelas, with
seats and fountains and parterres of flowers. This is actually a
socialistic people. A man with but a gaily-striped blanket and a
packet of cigarettes is as affluent as an hidalgo of vast estates.
He may lounge the livelong day in beautiful gardens, as much
his as his neighbor's, chatting with his acquaintances, quizzing
the passer-by, and enjoying al-frcsco concerts of a high order.
Where he takes his scanty meal or his nightly repose matters
little; his life is beneath the blue vault of heaven, his days are
serene, placid, and unambitious, and he regards the restless Yan-
kee contractor or hurrying speculator much as did the old Rus-
sian count in the " Great Pink Pearl," muttering sotto voce :
"These people have no repose." Albeit the dreams of the Pu-
eblanos are rudely disturbed at four in the morning by the deep
booming of the cathedral bell ; others of lesser size then join the
chorus, and a discordant clamor, inimical to slumber, ensues, the
ecclesiastical authorities being evidently resolved on granting no
peace to the wicked, and safety is alone to be found in meekly
submitting and betaking one's self forthwith to the temple ; but
even here quiet is unobtainable, for therein is a huge wheel, pro-

1891.]' PUEBLA. 13

vided with thirty or more tinkling campanulas, which the server
revolves with a will at the Sanctus, Consecration, and priest's
Communion. For thirsty peasants ample provision is made, and
at intervals in the portales surrounding the plaza occur mounds
of clay in which rest vast jars containing pulque, dispensed in
pint measures by attendant Hebes to ragged peones. Much
pulque is produced at the extensive maguey plantations in this
district, the Lake of Apam being a centre of the industry. From
Apam station a pulque train leaves daily for the capital, and doz-
ens of the unshapely casks in which the Mexican cider is stored
may be seen around, awaiting transportation. Over a Pueblan
pulqueria we noted a rhyming legend to the effect that if only
the Lake of Apam were filled with pulque instead of water heaven
would be let down to earth. Another drinking den had as its
sign "The great Temple of Bacchus," whilst a third cynically de-
scribed itself in vast gilt letters as " The Sword of Satan."
Shortly after reading this we saw a gentle peasant woman with
infinite patience endeavoring to induce her staggering and be-
muddled lord to accompany her homewards ; she would probably
have concurred in the appositeness of the saloon sign.

A more attractive Pueblan characteristic is the large number
of ornaments exposed for sale in shops and at street-corners,
carved from the lovely onyx quarried hard by. The mines are
now in the hands of a foreign company and large quantities of
this beautiful stone are exported. No one leaves Puebla without
taking a memento in the shape of a paper-weight, fruit, or pen-
holder of Puebla onyx, a fine assortment of which may be seen
in a shop facing the Dominican church. In the cathedral the
enormous holy-water stoups are of this material, as also are the
three pulpits. Onyx is, in fact, to Puebla what ivory carving is
to Dieppe and filigree jewelry to Malta. There are also other
curiosities, stained basket-work, clay images and pottery. The
guide book advising us of the excellence of Pueblan soap, we
found some, after various inquiries, in a butcher's shop of all
places in the world ! joints of beef and pendent haunches alter-
nating with symmetrically arranged saponaceous pyramids. It
proved, however, to be a malodorous and uncanny compound ;
in fact, a gruesome and unctuous article.

The visitor to Puebla will be agreeably impressed by the
universal kindliness and urbanity of its inhabitants. If he lounges
under the spreading shade-trees of the paseo the Rotten Row
of the town the odds are that some friendly citizen will engage
him in conversation, point out various objects worthy of his at-

14 PUEBLA. [Oct.,

tention, and make him feel at home in the Angelic City. Several
times the writer has been called back in Pueblan shops to take
the balance of small change due him, and he has been asked a
lower price for articles than he had expressed his willingness to
give ; and then the banquetings, the well-turned speeches, the
bands, and the agreeable courtesies that one has encountered
here on gala occasions all these concur in making Puebla among
the pleasantest of memories.

As might be supposed from the amiability of the citizens,
Puebla is well provided with hospitals, asylums, and educational
establishments, and the State College, which originated over a
century ago under Jesuit management, has a large library, a well-
furnished museum, and a strong professional staff. But the
leading characteristic of Puebla is the number, beauty, and
general interest of its temples, which are encountered at every
turn. True, Mexican churches are now the property of the state ;
there is even a bill before Congress to let them out to the
highest bidder ; however, they are graceful monuments of the old
order of things, and for the most part are yet employed for Chris-
tian worship. The cathedral of Puebla is the most attractive
ecclesiastical edifice in Mexico, and stands on a paved platform
elevated above the main plaza, and occupying the entire length
of its southern side. Even the iron railings which separate this
atrium from the square are a work of art, erected to the memory
of Pope Pius IX., and comprehending a number of well-executed
statues : the twelve apostles, doctors, saints, and the angels to
whose initiative the city owns its origin. The church, which is
over three hundred feet long by one hundred broad, dates from
the commencement of the seventeenth century, and is con-
structed of the dark-blue stone from the neighboring quarries,
having two western towers and a graceful central dome. The
old tower contains the instruments of matutinal torture already
mentioned, one ponderous bell scaling nigh on twenty thousand
pounds. The interior of the cathedral is superb, and is being
judiciously restored by a native artist. It is unfortunate that,
the centre of the building being occupied by the choir after the
Spanish fashion, a view of the entirety of the temple cannot be
obtained. By this arrangement there is -no nave, the choir being
near the western entrance ; this is connected with the high
altar by the crujia, or railed-in gangway. The " main altar "
in a Mexican cathedral is in reality a number of altars ranged
around a central pyramid of rich marbles, adorned with statues
and gilding, and tapering upwards to the roof. There are also

1891-] PUEBLA. 15

three pulpits, for the epistle, gospel, and sermon respectively, and
beyond this, at the extreme east of the church, is the Lady
Chapel, with marvellous paintings of the Assumption and Coro-
nation of the Blessed Virgin, the culminating glories of this mu-
seum of sacred treasures. In the- choir a thorn from the crown
of our Lord is kept in a shrine over the bishop's throne, and in
the relic chapel are a number of precious remains of saints,
statues of many of whom line the walls. In fine, it would re-
quire a treatise to do justice to the carving in wood and stone,
in marble and onyx ; to the rich metal-work in iron, brass, and
silver ; to the tapestry, the paintings, and the unique antiquities
contained in this glorious temple.

The public services are here rendered with unusual pomp
and solemnity, and at High Mass the very choristers are robed
in golden copes. These offices are attended by crowds of de-
vout worshippers, and family groups may frequently be seen
scattered about the floors, the mother with" her numerous
brood, from the infant in arms to the lusty youngster from
school ; it is thus that Pueblan habits of piety are early formed.
One morning we saw an aged woman leading a blind old priest
to his confessional, in which, having safely deposited him, she
knelt before him in the tribunal of penance ; it recalled an
expression of Victor Hugo's in Les Mise'rables, " Two weak-
nesses supporting each other." Notices are hung in the churches
here, very properly, prohibiting women from wearing hats and
bonnets in the sacred buildifigs ; and the only time we re-
member to have seen this direction defied was when one
of our own people, a lady, strode with her husband amidst
the kneeling worshippers, chattering and laughing gaily. It is
scarcely to be marvelled at that the inhabitants believe the Eng-
lish to be a nation of infidels, and it proved hard to convince an
intelligent workman that there were churches in England. So to
this it has finally arrived, that we have purified our national re-
ligion to that degree that to outsiders it is invisible in its unsul-
lied, colorless aspect, whilst we in our restless peregrinations make
merry over the obtrusive devotions of Catholic Belgians, who
recite their prayers at the appointed hours in bazaar or market
place as if they believed in the efficacy of such petitions, and
were not ashamed of employing them.

In treating of the temples of Puebla one is overwhelmed by
the mass of material to one's hand, and hardly knows where to
begin. Let us take the churches of the four great religious
orders which formerly labored for the spiritual and intellectual

1 6 PUEBLA. [Oct.,

well-being of the great Spanish dependency the Jesuits and
the Gray, Black, and White Friars. The church of the Jesuits,
La Compaiiia, in its present form is two centuries old, replac-
ing a former temple. It is a large, well-lighted building, with
twin western towers and flying buttresses supporting the nave,
an infrequent feature in Mexican architecture. The public pave-
ment passes under the towers and portico, which can, however,
be closed by iron gates. Internally there are fine holy-water
stoups of onyx, stone statues of the' apostles on the twelve
Corinthian columns, and some excellent oil paintings. The
numerous confessionals are inscribed with apposite extracts from
the sacred Scriptures. The Jesuits conferred great benefits on
learning in Mexico by their colleges, and their ancient buildings
at Puebla, adjoining this church, are very extensive. They were
occasionally dismissed from the country, regularly coming up
again smiling after each knock-down blow. They were finally
expelled in 1856, three years before the decree of Juarez which
closed all the monasteries. However, they are back again in
Puebla amongst other cities, and building, decoration, and the
formation of libraries go on in spite of past experiences. The
upshot of all this will be, that when the church has collected
sufficient impedimenta to prove attractive the good old game of
grab will recommence ; the colleges will become police barracks
or be appropriated by military leaders, and the books will join
their predecessors on the shelves of the public libraries, where
they will repose in peace, the perusal of the Latin and Greek
fathers and of conciliar decrees being hardly attractive reading
to the casual student. As to the monastic spoliation of three
decades ago, one never hears it reprobated in Mexico by Catho-
lic or Mason. Just one typical illustration taken at random : It
is said that in the general scramble a dignitary of the epaulette
secured the most valuable ecclesiastical estate in the Mexican
capital, through which the handsome Calle del cinco de Mayo now
runs, for the nominal consideration of fifteen hundred dollars.
Not wishing to appear too prominently in the transaction, the
warrior inscribed the property in the name of the lady of his
choice, which faithless siren, secure of the booty, forthwith
eloped with her mustachioed cavalier, an aide-de-camp to her
elderly adorer. Moral : Let Catholic institutions in Mexico lease,
not buy, buildings, and let the pious distribute their alms during
their life-time, leaving an unendowed posterity to maintain in its
turn its own establishments of mercy and learning.

It was natural that in a Spanish colony the Carmelites should

1891.] PUEBLA. I/

have held a prominent position, and in Mexico they constituted
formerly the richest of all the religious orders, as may be read-
ily verified by inspecting the glorious temples once pertaining to
them to be found in every considerable town. The Carmen at
Puebla is no exception to this rule, and with its great yellow
dome forms a conspicuous object ; it stands, however, in a poor
quarter, presents a forlorn and deserted appearance, and is
begirt with marvellous unsavory odors. La Soledad, hard by,
though less pretentious, is more inviting, large sums having been
lavished on its restoration and adornments ; the camarin, or
treasure room, is especially rich, and a picture of St. Teresa as
a standard rose-tree, bearing a dozen full-blown flowers contain-
ing in their centres monks and nuns of her reform, is certainly
an extraordinary genealogical conception of the old school of
pictorial art.

The Dominicans had a handsome church on the opposite side
of the city. It stands back from the street in a spacious court,
and the suggestive dogs holding torches in their teeth may be
seen on the walls. The nave is well proportioned but meanly
frescoed, and the temple abounds in contrasts. In a Mexican
church one makes instinctively for the north transept, and here
one's researches are repaid by charming representations of the
last two of the Glorious Mysteries, embedded in a gorgeous
incrustation of golden churrigueresque adornments, two centuries
old, which completely covers the walls.

San Francisco, the most interesting of the Pueblan temples,
is the last to which we would conduct an unbeliever. Ordinarily
the exterior is the main attraction of a Mexican fane, and the
outside of the former church of the Franciscans never wearies
the eye ; especially is this true of the graceful and tapering
tower, a landmark from every part of the city or surrounding
country, reminding one of the cathedral tower at Antwerp. The
church proper is all that now remains of this quondam vast
establishment dedicated to its pristine purpose. Invalid soldiers
occupy the cloister ; the chapels of the Santa Escnela and the
Terccr Orden (the holy school and the third order) are forlorn
and deserted, and on festivals picadores and matador torment the
toros in what was erstwhile the peaceful garden of the Gray
Friars. The church occupies a commanding position, a large
square fronting it, and beyond this is the new paseo with its
promenades and seats, its ride and shade-trees, skirting the little
Atoyac River. The facade of brick-work with white medallions,
fascinating tile-work, and numerous saints never wearies, and

1 8 PUEBLA. [Oct.,

Saint Francis receiving the stigmata forms the central figure.
Entering, one passes under an unusually flat arch supporting the
choir loft, which, despite the misgivings it formerly occasioned,
has endured over two centuries. The vast and lofty nave is still
pleasing, notwithstanding the sinister frescoings of restorers who
have done their worst. The choir is unchanged except for the
inevitable ravages of time, and contains carvings and paintings of
antiquarian interest. Much havoc is wrought in this country by
insects, and we have seen a tottering wooden altar propped up
by a pole, this support having crushed the soft, worm-eaten
timber as if it were sponge ; and, indeed, one might easily have
picked the whole to pieces with one's fingers. To the right of
the choir is the sacristy, remarkable for a lovely laver of tile-
work, and many paintings interesting rather for their antiquity
than for artistic merit. Many of them are from the old mon-
astery and the dependent chapels now closed, and represent
the " twelve apostles " of Mexico and other Franciscan
worthies. But the attraction of the church is the chapel north
of the nave formerly dedicated to Our Lady of Reparation
(Nuestra Seiiora de Remedies). This image, however, has been
kept in the tabernacle on the high altar for the last hun-
dred years or more. It is not to be confounded with the still
more famous image of the same name whose shrine is near
the capital of the Republic, and which, being the especial
patroness of the Spaniards during the revolutionary wars, was
styled by the followers of the banner of Our Lady of Gua-
dalupe " La Gachupina " (the Spanish woman). Both these
figures are of wood and about eight inches long ; the latter
was from Spain, but the Puebla one was a present from Cor-
tez to an Indian chieftain.

We must avoid a tempting digression on these two images
and return to the chapel, now dedicated to the Blessed Brother
Sebastian of Aparicio, who was born in 1502 and lived on
into the next century. He was one of the devoted band of
Franciscans who did so much for the settlement of New Spain,
driving ox-carts with mails from the coast to the capital and
afterwards on the road to the north, and meeting with nume-
rous perilous adventures. Many of these are depicted on the
walls with explanatory and interjectional verses subscribed. The
saint's youth was a succession of prodigies; thus, he is here re-
presented as rescued from a flaming oven, from a mill-race,
and from beneath a wagon wheel ; and a wolf licks his sores.
We now pass to scenes from his travels, as when his cart

1891.] PUEBLA. 19

falls over a bridge into the creek, out of which he leads the
patient oxen, himself walking on the water. Then he reposes
under an oak whilst around him are seated various wild beasts
and equally ferocious Indians, the contents of the cart unmo-
lested, and the oxen grazing unharmed. The three Franciscans
from Ghent who arrived in 1523 were the first missionaries in
the country ; next year the " twelve apostles " arrived ; the first
bishop, who came four years later, was also a Franciscan, and to
this order, which extended its missions even into Texas and
California, where their ruins may still be seen, must primarily be
attributed the conversion of the country. Their main house was
in the centre of the capital, where much of it may still be seen ;
the refectory is now a livery stable, the garden forms the plea-
saunce of the Hotel Jardin, and the large group of churches is
apportioned amidst various sectaries. Thus, the Baptists have put
a glass roof ov.er the patio, or inner court, of the monastery,
where they hold some religious services ; the Anglicans have
ensconced themselves in one of the chapels, and the main church,
forlorn and bare, has fallen to a coterie who on their notice-
board style it "The Cathedral of the true Church of Jesus
Christ in Mexico." The writer once with difficulty tempted a
young Mexican into this profaned relic of a pious age, when,
viewing its barren aspect, with nothing but a pulpit, chairs, and
heaps of Bibles visible, the outraged Castilian exclaimed " Muy
feo" (very hideous) in pious horror, and fled incontinently.
However, amidst all this desecration a handsome Catholic tem-
ple has just been completed, an evidence that religion still sur-
vives in the land.

One is tempted to return to Puebla, where are a couple of
score of interesting churches yet unnoticed, besides numerous
other attractions. But enough has been already said, we hope,
to convince the student of sacred art that without crossing the
Atlantic he may find in this one city enough to occupy his
attention during the whole period of his summer holiday.

CHARLES E. HODSON.

VOL. LIV. 2

2O ST. FRANCIS XAVIER '5 GIFT OF TONGUES. [Oct.,

DR. A. WHITE ON ST. FRANCIS XAVIER'S GIFT OF

TONGUES.*

WE have animadverted on the manner of discussion followed
by the writer in The Popular Science Monthly, who, reviewing,
under the head of " New Chapters in Science," the miracles of
St. Francis Xavier, passes over much 'of the subject in absolute
silence. Even that which should appeal to the investigating
talent of a modern scientist, as being within reach of verifi-
cation that is to say, the standing miracle of the saint's body
remaining incorrupt at Goa in the year of grace 1891 fails to
arrest his attention. As to what he does assume for apparent
examination, he maintains still the policy of silence with respect
to any evidence adduced. Neither does he adduce any for his
own views. The intrinsic plausibility of a legendary evolution is
demonstration enough. Its scientific prestige, we may suppose,
lends to the light flippancy which makes up the body of his
article an air of circumstantial evidence that invites no further
inquiry.

Besides an appeal to his imagination, he has no remark to
make about the juridical processes, which began three years
after Xavier's death at Goa and were concluded seventy years
later at Rome. After this latter date, 1622, the juridical evi-
dence, in behalf of all the miracles on which the Roman courts
chose to base the process of canonization, was within reach of
biographers. New miracles, that is to say prodigies, of which
the full records were now available, came to be placed at the
service of history. Hence, in the edition of Tursellini, published
five years after the canonization, we have this special advertise-
ment on the title-page : u There are eTdded, from the report
made in secret consistory before His Holiness, Gregory XV.,
some miracles which are not in the Life" (Monacho, 1627). With
regard to all this evidence, so distinct, judicial, and ample, the
learned writer has no occasion to say so much as would give
his simple readers the faintest inkling that evidence was ever
taken, or that the records exist yes, and exist even in books
from which he would make us believe . that he is quoting. I
shall give a sample soon.

* This and the preceding article, "The Popular Science Monthly on the Miracles of St.
Francis Xavier," in the August number of this magazine, are the continuation and conclusion
of the series entitled " The Warfare of Science."

1891.] ST. FRANCIS XAVIER' s GIFT OF TONGUES. 21

But I promised to vindicate the ex-president of Cornell Uni-
versity from the implied discredit which attaches to such
manipulation of questions historical and scientific, and that
under the head of " New Chapters in Science." The vindication
is very easy. It consists in showing where all this novelty of
science has been copied from. So that the errors are to be laid
not at the doctor's door, but at that of his authorities. They
are authors not of an accurate modern science, but of a some-
what old and now rather effete Protestantism.

In 1754 Dr. Douglas, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, pub-
lished his Criterion ; or, Rules by which the true Miracles of the
New Testament are distinguished from the spurious Miracles of
Pagans and Papists. The line of discussion followed by Dr.
Douglas, and even his very phrases, are identical with those
which we now read in the " New Chapters of Science."

In 1818 Dr. John Milner, the Roman Catholic Vicar-Apos-
tolic of the London district, wrote his celebrated work, The End
of Religious Controversy. In treating the Notes of the True
Church, he spoke of miracles ; and, running down the long line
of miraculous history in the Roman Catholic Church, he took
special notice of St. Francis Xavier as one of the wonder-work-
ers in these latter days.* In the course of the four years
which followed the publication of this work, two persons in par-
ticular distinguished themselves by their efforts to refute Dr.
Milner ; one was the Bishop of St. David's, against whom the
original work had been written ; the other was a free lance, the
Rev. Mr. Greer, vicar of Templebodane, chaplain to Earl Tal-
bot, then lord-lieutenant of Ireland. It may be highly interest-
ing to the modernjworld, seventy years later than those days, to
quote a page from Dr. Milner's subsequent vindication of his
own work against these assailants. The page will show how
new the " New Chapters " of modern science really are. And
a remark which he appends, for the benefit of the effete Protes-
tantism opposing him, will exhibit Dr. Milner's acute foresight
in marking out precisely the line which deism and infidelity
would follow when, at some future day, they would pick up
and use the rusty tools of sectarian Christianity ; just what we
are witnessing in The Popular Science Monthly, 1891.

Thus Dr. Milner speaks :

" With his usual adroitness, the vicar skips over the count-
less and well-attested miracles of St. Bernard in the twelfth
century, and of the other saints I have referred to, in order to

* Letter xxiii.

22 ST. FRANCIS XAVIER' s GIFT OF TONGUES. [Oct.,

cavil at those of a holy personage whose name ought never to
be mentioned by him without blushing. I speak of the great
St. Francis Xaverius, the Apostle of the Indies. The plain case
is this : the miracles of this wonderful missionary have been and
are still celebrated throughout India, where he, by his personal
labors under God, converted above a hundred thousand pagans
to Christianity, as well as throughout Europe, ever since his
death, in 1552; and they have always been, together with the
miracles of the other saints, a grievous eye-sore to Protestant
polemics. At length Dr. Douglas, the late learned and acute
Bishop of Salisbury, wrote and published his Criterion of Mira-
cles for the express purpose of disproving the miracles wrought
in the Catholic Church, and of demonstrating that '-the miracles
ascribed to Popish saints are forgeries of an age posterior to
that they lay claim to.' In proof of this, he brings what he
calls ' conclusive evidence that, during thirty-five years from the
death of Xavier, his miracles had not been heard of. The evi-
dence/ he says, ' I shall allege is that of Acosta (Joseph Acosta),
who himself had been a missionary among the Indians. His
work, De Procuranda Indorum Salute, was printed in 1589 that
is, above thirty-seven years after the death of Xavier ; and in it
we find an express acknowledgment that no miracles had ever
been performed by missionaries among the Indians. Acosta was
himself a Jesuit, and therefore from his silence we may infer,
unexceptionably, that between thirty and forty years had elapsed
before Xavier's miracles were thought of.' '

Dr. Milner continues :

" This pretended conclusive evidence of the celebrated Detector
Douglas, as he was called, has been echoed and re-echoed by the
Rev. Le Mesurier, Hugh Farmer, Peter Roberts, and every
Protestant writer on miracles, whom I have met with, down to
the Rev. R. Greer, who, in again trumpeting it, sins against the
conviction which the evidence of Dr. Douglas's error, contained in
the End of Controversy, must have produced in him. In fact, I
produced the commission of the King of Portugal to his viceroy
in India, Don Francisco Baretto, dated May 28, 1556, within
three years and four months from the death of the saint, in
which the king charges him ' to take depositions upon oath, in
all parts of India, concerning these miracles.' This fact refutes
at once Dr. Douglas's conclusive evidence of their not being
heard of for thirty-five years after the death of St. Xaverius.
But, in the second place, I quoted the words of the identical
Joseph Acosta, from the very work referred to by his lordship,
in which he distinctly says this : ' Even in our own time mira-
cles, too numerous to be counted, have taken place both in the
East and the West Indies.' He afterwards says, speaking of
'the man of our age, the blessed Master Francis,' as St. Xave-
rius was called before his canonization : ' So many and such great
signs are reported of him by many, and those proper witnesses,
that hardly so many are reported of any one except the Apos-

1891.] ST. FRANCIS XAVIER 's GIFT OF TONGUES. 23

ties.' I had long known that Bishop Douglas and his followers
falsified the work of Acosta, but I wished to find the latter in
some library of public access ; at length I found it in the Bodleian
Library at Oxford, where I said it might be seen any day, by
inquiring for it under the title which I set down. What excuse,
I now ask, can the vicar devise for his deliberate prevarication,
in continuing to assert that ' Acosta makes no mention of Xa-
vier's miracles ' ? and that * forty years elapsed after Xavier's
death before his miracles were thought of?"

On the next page, after dissecting another characteristic refu-
tation of the Protestant apologist, Dr. Milner makes this acute
forecast of the future :

" I appeal to your reflection, dear sir, whether after this
manner a deist, or other infidel, would not be able to explain
away every miracle mentioned in the Gospel as easily and as
plausibly as the vicar does the supernatural events in ques-
tion."*

So much for Dr. Milner, and the pedigree of these new
" Chapters on the Warfare of Science." Where the Protestant
bishop and the Protestant vicar have disappeared in due course
into the innocuous past, we see now Dr. Milner's prediction
fulfilled, and the deist and the infidel come on the stage to
pick up and wield the rusty weapons of a sectarianism effete.

The subject-matter, to which these schools take exception,
may be regarded very aptly under two aspects. In the first
place, there is the general idea and conception of a process of
canonization, as bearing upon the question of miracles. In the
second place, there is the special subject, or Christian hero, who
is brought before the competent courts with a view to canon-
ization.

A general idea of the process of canonization may be con-
ceived by a glance at one of the Roman courts. It is the
" Congregation of Rites" which takes cognizance of these
matters. This tribunal consists of divers cardinals, several
officials, and many consultors, among whom are the three oldest
judges of the most venerable court in Rome, that called the
Rota. In particular, there is the official named the " promotor
fidei," whose express duty it is to take exception to every and

* For all the references made in the foregoing, including those to Bishop Douglas's Cri-
terion, see the places cited in Dr. Milner's books, of which American editions are in circula-
tion, viz. : The End of Controversy, Letters xxiii. and xxiv. pages 162, etc., New York,
Sadlier, 1843 ; and A Vindication of the End of Religious Controversy, Letter xxii. pages
173-6, Philadelphia, Cummiskey, 1825. There is also an interesting little rteuml of the
entire controversy added as an appendix, from the London Catholic Miscellany, to Bouhour's
Life of St. Francis Xavier, pp. 441-450, Philadelphia, Cummiskey, 1841.

24 ST. FRANCIS XAVIER'S GIFT OF TONGUES. [Oct.,

any element in the cause, if it affords the smallest room for
exception. On any given cause there are primary meetings,
then more formal preparatory meetings, then two general meet-
ings a year, in presence of the Sovereign Pontiff. Only one case
is treated in any such general assembly, and that only for the
stage at which such case then may happen to be ; and the
stages are many. In the meantime the consultors study diligent-
ly all the informations, sent in by episcopal authority from those
parts where the original testimonies have been taken regarding
the servant of God ; they study all the summaries, documents,
regarding questions of fact and of right, the exceptions of the
opposing advocate, the replies and rejoinders. They are bound
to hear the verbal processes of proctors, advocates, and postu-
lators of the cause. All are bound by oath to the strictest
secrecy ; nor can they receive any gifts or remuneration from
parties interested in the progress of the cause. Such parties,
belonging to a religious order or congregation, can have no
part whatever in the deliberations pertaining to the process of
canonization.*

There are two main courses of deliberation, one issuing in the
question, whether the person is to be beatified ; the other, later
on, whether he is to be canonized. These courses are subdivided
into the questions of his heroic virtue, of his miracles or his
martyrdom, and finally of the determining point in each course,
"whether it is safe to proceed to beatification, or canonization."

The idea and meaning of heroism in virtue is fixed with
scientific and theological accuracy. It means that perfection of
moral habitude which surpasses the ordinary endeavors and suc-
cess of human nature, in practising, and in possessing itself of,
such a moral habit of rectitude. This heroic degree must be
proved with regard to the three theological virtues, as enumer-
ated in the New Testament : faith, hope, and chanty ; and the
charity must be established in its double significance of love of
God and love of one's neighbor. In like manner are treated
the four cardinal virtues prudence, justice, fortitude, and tem-
perance. These, though natural in themselves that is to say,
within the competency of human nature must be shown, in
the present subject, to have been practised in the higher
order of Christian perfection, and to have reached the heroic
degree of the same. In like manner, all the exercises of a
Christian life pass under review. They are prayer, the use of
the sacraments, the most perfect self-abnegation in all its forms ;

* Bouix, Tractatus de Curia Romana, pars ii. c. 5.

1891.] ST. FRANCIS XAVIER'S GIFT OF TONGUES. 25

and the most genuine self-disinterestedness with regard to any-
thing like self-seeking, vanity, boasting, a most subtle vice of
the human compound, and one so utterly remote from the
intelligence of the carnal mind, that we see critics argue against
the miracles of St. Francis Xavier, because " no account of a
miracle wrought by him appears in his own letters," and be-
cause < k he blushed deeply" when "one of his brethren asked him
one day if he had raised the dead " ! It is not, indeed, true
that St. Francis makes no mention of miracles wrought through
his merits.* But the saint, as becomes him, refers the merit of
all to " the faith and piety of these children and others." Ah !
the writer in The Popular Science Monthly might exclaim,
there is " Xavier's own account " ! Exactly ! And it is very
necessary that it should have been so, if in subsequent times there
was ever question of his canonization.

Supposing that all these points separately, and on their own
merits, have been satisfactorily determined, as establishing the
heroic virtues of a servant of God, now it is in order for the
court to take cognizance of such other gifts as may have been
attributed to the proposed saint. Really, only one more element
is necessary, for the intent and effect of canonization. That is
the seal of God upon his saint, by miracles wrought through his
intercession after death. The purpose of this inquiry is to ascer-
tain whether the person died in the grace of God, enjoying the
gift of final perseverance, thereby reaching heaven, and therefore
remaining for ever a friend of God. The church does not want
to honor one, however great he may have been in life, who
may, after all, have lost his soul. Nor will God honor such a
one with miraculous signs after death. Hence such miracles are
required and must be proved, as having been wrought through
the intercession of the servant of God.

All these requirements being fulfilled, nothing more is neces-
sary for canonization. But if it is claimed that the saint worked
miracles even during his life, these have to be examined, as any
thing and every thing else concerning him must be investigated,
that on every point his character and life may be seen through
and dissected.

As to the prima facie trustworthiness of these Roman pro-
cesses, it will not escape the notice of any one who is at all
acquainted with the elements of European history that all the
jurisprudence and legal practice of our civilization descend, not
merely from the practice and principles of Roman common law,

* Coleridge, vol. i. p. 154, one of the pages quoted by Dr. White !

26 ST. FRANCIS XAVIER' s GIFT OF TONGUES. [Oct.,

but from that law as preserved, practised, and presided over by
the Catholic Church and her ecclesiastical authorities, whereof
the centre and type have always been the traditional methods
and canons of Papal Rome. Her canons, in principle and prac-
tice, shaped the jurisprudence which we have to-day. Nor does
this seminary of legality altogether resemble in its ways many of
the restless young scions, the wavering and spasmodic legal codes
and systems, which have come into existence a long way down
in the line of descent. Modifications in the methods of Rome
are considered recent when we count their age by only two or
three centuries, so utterly out of her way is it to act under the
passing bias of political or other pressure. And as to some judi-
cial methods and styles of criticism, which have had no part in her
and are elsewhere in vogue, she presents the very antithesis to
them. I need only refer to this method of criticism which we
have before our eyes. A man takes exception to all Roman
processes in general, not by any intelligent or intelligible objec-
tion, but by this observation, which I have already quoted :
" For some very thoughtful remarks as to the worthlessness of
the testimony to miracles presented during the canonization pro-
ceedings at Rome, see Maury, Legendes Pieuses"*

The miraculous gifts attributed to a saint may be ranged
under the heads of infused wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing,
miraculous works, prophetic announcements ; the discernment of
spirits, the gift of tongues, the interpretation of speeches, trans-
ports, ecstasies, raptures, visions, apparitions, and revelations.
Perhaps none of these were wanting to Xavier. Only some
specimens were selected by Rome. One of those selected sup-
plies the writer in The Popular Science Monthly with his most
triumphant refutation of the miracles, as a whole ; and is ex-
pected to afford us the most brilliant proof of his own evolution,
which, if true, would be almost as miraculous as anything
adduced for Xavier. For, morally speaking, it would indeed be
marvellous that such a history as his, defying as it does natural
laws, should have grown up about him, while he was alive and
active among men, without any adequate facts on which to
rest it.

Says the doctor : " Perhaps the best illustration of this evolu-
tion of miracles in Xavier's case is to be found in the growth of
another legend ; and it is especially instructive, because it grew

* Dr. A. D. White, ex-president of Cornell University, in The Popular Science Monthly,
May, 1891, p. 12, at the end of a long note, which for its erudition and other critical qualities
is about as oblique-looking as this remark.

1891.] Sr. FRANCIS XAVIER'S GIFT OF TONGUES. 27

luxuriantly despite the fact that it is utterly contradicted in all
parts of Xavier's writings." Here we see what a feast of reason
the doctor is preparing in the refutation of this splendid legend.
It is indeed his best. He devotes nearly two pages to it. His
whole argument upon the subject is contained in the following
eleven lines ; which, however, as the reader will observe, contain
the expression of only one idea, that Xavier encountered an
immense difficulty in the multiplicity of languages which the
multitude of peoples and tribes spoke. The doctor's words are :

" Throughout his letters, from first to last, Xavier constantly
dwells upon his difficulties with the various languages of the
different tribes among whom he went. He tells us how he sur-
mounted these difficulties ; sometimes by learning just enough of
a language to translate into it some of the main church formu-
las ; sometimes by getting the help of others to patch together
some pious teaching to be learned by rote ; sometimes by em-
ploying interpreters ; and sometimes by a mixture of various
dialects and by signs. On one occasion he tells us that a very
serious difficulty arose, and that his voyage to China was de-
layed because, among other things, the interpreter he had
engaged had failed to meet him."

This is the entire argument of the doctor to disprove Xa-
vier's gift of tongues. The rest of the two pages is taken up
with some cynicism, and with quotations from Bouhours, Tur-
sellini, and Coleridge. This is a cheap science, and a cheaper
logic.

His argument is this : Xavier's letters inform us throughout
that naturally he did not know the languages of the people
whom he encountered and that he helped himself as best he
could. Therefore the doctor draws this conclusion : that Xavier's
possessing the gift of tongues is ' utterly contradicted in all
parts of Xavier's writings." To which argument the obvious
rejoinder is this : that, as Xavier's letters inform us of the con-
stant difficulties which he met with in the multitude of lan-
guages, and of the way he helped himself as best he could,
therefore he is just in the condition for receiving the gift of ton-
gues or the very special help of God. Did he receive it or
not ? That is the question. And that is a question of evidence.
The doctor keeps clear of the evidence. He quotes Father
Coleridge for the assertion that Xavier had the gift. * On the
same page Father Coleridge refers the reader to the evidence
in a note on another page. That reference and note the doctor

*Vol. i. p. 173.

28 ST. FRANCIS XAVIER* s GIFT OF TONGUES. [Oct.,

does not see. So the doctor's argument keeps clear of the
point, and his eye keeps clear of the evidence.

Nay, he is singularly novel in his original wealth of argu-
ment. We took occasion before to show how his article is a
museum of the rusty tools of a century ago, from Dr. Douglas's
performance on through the line of polemical writers who have
chanted the same refrain. On this occasion the writer of
" New Chapters in Science " surpasses himself. He goes back,
not one century to Anglican theologians, but three centuries to
a Roman theologian ! Albeit, in both exploits he seems to be
equally innocent. Let us listen to this same argument from
Jacob Picenino, as Lambertini, afterwards Benedict XIV., cites
him :

In his treatise on the Beatification and Canonization of Saints
Benedict XIV. speaks in these terms : " Among the letters of
St. Francis Xavier, published by Father Horace Tursellini after
the saint's life, is one in which he speaks thus of himself : * God
grant that we may as soon as possible learn the language of
Japan, in order to make known the divine mysteries ; then we
shall zealously prosecute our Christian work. For now we are
among them like a mute statue. For they speak and discuss
much about us ; but we are silent, ignorant of the language of
the country. At present we are become a child again to learn
the elements of this language.' Jacob Picenino infers from these
words," continues Benedict XIV., " that he was not endowed
with the gift of tongues. But Cardinal Gotti vigorously refutes
him ; for the saint at one time might not have been able to
speak languages, and afterwards might have received from God
the gift of tongues ; as was the case with the Apostles, upon
whom the gift of tongues was divinely bestowed, not immediate-
ly when they were called to the apostolate, but when the Holy
Ghost descended upon them."*

Moreover, as Doctor Milner observed seventy years ago,
none of the biographers of St. Francis have ascribed to him a
constant or habitual exercise of the gift of tongues. The writers
of his life mention that it was communicated to him for the
first time in one of his missions at Travancor, and afterwards at
Amanguci, and on some other occasions.

And, as Father Coleridge observes, in 1872, and on the same
page which the legendary evolutionist cites, but which, if he
sees it, he reads in a singularly discriminating fashion :

" We may add that no one, as far as we know, has ever
supposed that the Apostles and their companions became neces-
sarily possessed of all the different dialects enumerated by the

* Benedict XIV., On Heroic Virtue, vol. iii. p. 225 : New York and London, 1852, Orato-
rian Series.

1891.] ST. FRANCIS XAVIER'S GIFT OF TONGUES. 29

sacred historian, in such a manner as to have them at their
command for all the purposes of life, so as to have been able
to read or write them, to compose books or catechisms in them,
or to be in any way independent, where the particular occasions
for the miraculous gifts ceased, of the ordinary difficulties in
intercourse with persons of different nations which are the
results of the confusion of tongues. No one has ever supposed
that, because St. Peter or St, Paul raised Tabitha or Eutychus
to life, either of those Apostles had the power of raising every
dead person they met with, or of preserving themselves from
the natural doom of death, etc. . . ."*

And, finally, to quote again from one of the authors who,
according to Dr. White, is altogether too early to exhibit the
evolved stage of Xavier's miracles, Tursellini himself, who had
not the use of all the evidence used for the canonization, notes
particularly, among the sixty-odd miracles recorded by him, one
which is an exercise of the gift of tongues, though this one in
particular seems not to have been selected by the Roman courts.
It is that of Xavier's satisfying with one answer the obtrusive
questions of a number of insolent interrogators, who were
putting questions without order, and at the same time, on the
most diverse subjects. This was at Amanguci, in the intellectual
tournaments to which the saint was subjected while preaching
to the Japanese. f

So much for the various logical errors committed by the
critic when putting forth his most brilliant demonstration, that
against Xavier's possessing the gift of tongues. It is now in place
to describe the gift on its own merits, and to give the evidence :

" If the advocates of a proposed saint's cause," says Benedict
XIV., " maintain that he had the gift of tongues, or, in other
words, knew diverse tongues in a divine way, it will be neces-
sary for them to show that he never studied these languages in
a way to account for his possessing them, and that he appeared
of a sudden skilled therein, and spoke them readily, as occa-
sion offered. If the advocates maintain that the servant of God,
speaking one language only, was heard by many in different
languages, as if he were speaking in their own, it is necessary to
bring forward witnesses to say that they heard him speak in
their own language, as, for instance, Latin or Italian ; and others,
also, of different nations to say that they at the same time
heard him speak in their own tongue, namely, Germans in Ger-
man, Spaniards in Spanish, Frenchmen in French, Englishmen
in English, and so of others : and besides, all must agree in the
subject which the servant of God was speaking of." J

* Coleridge, vol. i. p. 172. t Tursellini, book vi. ch. 2.

t Benedict XIV., ibid. p. 226-7.

30 ST. FRANCIS XAVIER' s GIFT OF TONGUES. [Oct.,

Here, then, are two points legally set down for the examina-
tion of the gift. The first is, that it must be shown to have
been impossible for the servant of God to have known the lan-
guages in any merely natural way. This is obvious in the case
of St. Francis Xavier. It would appear that he preached to as
many as thirty different nations, or tribes, with different dia-
lects. * He spent only ten years in the Indies ; and all his
time was taken up with other things than philological studies.
Moreover this is the one point shown by the erudite writer in
the magazine, who luculently describes how the saint met with
immense difficulties in addressing himself to so many different
tribes, having so many different languages.

The second point is, that, in spite of not knowing the lan-
guages through any human means, the servant of God must be
shown to have been skilled in them, so as to have used them
upon occasion. This is the point which the writer in the maga-
zine carefully ignores. There are two chief exhibitions of this
gift : one is that of speaking in a given language, which he
could not have learned ; the other, that of speaking in any lan-
guage, whatsoever it may have happened to be, or in a jargon,
or attempt at a language, and being understood, at one and the
same time, by divers people of different languages. In the cause
of St. Francis Xavier the auditors of the Rota affirm both
exhibitions of the gift.f And both proved by evidence. Father
Coleridge, in the place referred to, upon the page quoted by our
critic, gives a u short epitome of the argument, as summarily
presented by the auditors of the Rota in their chapter on this
subject.'' J The document from which he cites the evidence is
the Relatio super Sanctitate et Miraculis Francisci Xaverii, a
preliminary document, in which there is a full account of the
processes ; and each piece of testimony which is adduced is
attributed to its proper author : and it is stated whether he was
an eye-witness, or merely one who heard others speak of what
had been done. I will quote a page and a half from, this
father's " epitome " of the evidence for the gift of tongues, as
taken out of the said great document. The note runs thus:

' The fact [of St. Francis Xavier's having the gift of tongues,
as exhibited in the two forms mentioned] being thus divided
into two parts, fourteen witnesses are referred to, who prove
both parts at once. One of them, Emanuel Fernandez, an old

* Coleridge, vol. i. p. 173. f Benedict XIV., ibid.

t Vol. ii. p. 383-6, note 2 to book 5. Preface to Coleridge's first volume, p. xiii.

1891.] ST. FRANCIS XAVIER' s GIFT OF TONGUES. 31

man of eighty at the time of his examination at Cochin, said
that he knew Father Francis on the Fishery coast ; and in the
port of Jafanapatam, on the Coromandel coast, he had seen Fran-
cis preaching to the natives in their own tongue, and that all
marvelled that he spoke so well, though he had just come there
and their language was very difficult to learn. And in the same
town and port there were persons of divers nations and various
tongues, and, in a certain sermon which the said father delivered
in the presence of this witness, all affirmed that they heard him
each as if he were speaking in their proper and natural language.
Emanuel himself was witness that as soon as he came into a
region he could speak any tongue ; and this was considered a
great miracle, and many were converted thereby. Another wit-
ness testifies to having heard of the miracle from persons who
were present at Jafanapatam when Francis preached as mentioned
above, and also to the common opinion and fame which pre-
vailed concerning this matter, and how it was commonly said
along the Fishery coast that as soon as he had come there he
had preached in the language of the Paravas, as if he had been
born there. Another, examined at Lisbon, testifies to the pub-
lic report, and that he had heard himself, from persons worthy
of credit, of the possession of the gift of tongues by Francis
Xavier, so that when he spoke in one language he was heard by
people of different nations in the native language of each.
Several other witnesses are enumerated for this. Then a witness
whose examination was taken at Bazain, Rodrigo Diaz Pereira,
one of the king's nobles (Aulae Regiae Patritius), states that he
sailed with Father Francis in the same ship to Banda that is, to
one of the Moluccas and had seen many heathen converted to
the faith by the labors and preaching of the father, and that he
used to preach the faith to them in their own language.
Another witness follows, who deposes to the same from common
report. Another says that he heard from his uncle, Caspar de
Cerqueiros Abreu, commander of the ' Japanese expedition/ that
he had often heard Father Francis preaching in Japan or to the
Chinese, and that, while he understood him in his own native
Portuguese, all the others who were present understood him
each in his own language, though they were of other nations.
Another witness, examined at Goa, declares that he had heard
from persons worthy of credit, and particularly from four brothers
who had been companions of Francis when in India, that, when
he first went to Japan and knew little or nothing of the lan-

fuage, yet, though he preached without an interpreter, partly in
panish, partly in Latin, partly in Portuguese, with a few Japa-
nese words mixed up, he was understood by all as if he had
spoken in the native language of each, and that the same hap-
pened in the Isles of the Moor and on the Fishery coast.
Another bears witness that it was notorious and testified to, by
persons who had heard Francis' sermons, that, in the places on
the Comorin promontory and the Fishery coast, he used to
preach in the native language so perfectly and easily that it

32 ST. FRANCIS XAVIER'S GIFT OF TONGUES. [Oct.,

seemed, as it were, his own by birth : and that all understood
the exhortations which he made in public, nor was there any
one who did not, on account of the appropriateness of the lan-
guage which he used ; and so it was commonly said that the
whole people would have become Christian if he had not gone
on so soon to other parts. Another witness says that those
who were Xavier's companions, and heard his sermons, affirmed
that he spoke in the idiom or language of all the men whom he
went among in India, as one who really had the gift of tongues,
speaking to the people of Malabar or the Moluccas without an
interpreter, and preaching with as much ease in the Molucca dia-
lect as in Portuguese, being himself from Navarre. . . ."

We may presume that this little specimen of evidence is
enough to exercise the acumen of any legal expert. It has been
too much for the native simplicity of legendary evolution, which,
accordingly, has carefully eschewed it with all other evidence ad-
duced. It would have been better for the interests of science if
the same legendary simplicity had left the miracles of St, Fran-
cis Xavier in the prudent oblivion wherein it buries the multi-
tude of miracles tangible and palpable even in our own days
I mean miracles certified to by the Catholic Church, not of the
Jansenists, nor of " Protestant sects at Old Orchard." It is con-
venient, no doubt, to sink a genuine article in a mass of adultera-
tions, and thereby condemn all in bulk ; but there would be no
adulterations if there were not a genuine article somewhere.

In conclusion, students of history may be recommended to
keep their eyes on the five hundred volumes of Migne's Patrolo-
gy in Catholic libraries, as also on the other alcoves of scholas-
tic lore. For the newer the " science " that is to come, the
greater the probability that it w r ill continue to unearth in " New
Chapters " many scores of novelties exploded centuries ago.

THOMAS HUGHES, SJ.

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 33

THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER*
CHAPTER XXXII. Continued.

THE LONG ILLNESS.

IT will .thus be seen that whatever diseases may have enfee-
bled Father Hecker's body, his spirit suffered from a malady
known only to great souls thirst for God. This gave him rest
neither day nor night, or allowed him intervals of peace only
to return with renewed force. Some men love gold too much
for their peace of mind, some love women too much, and some
power ; men like Father Hecker love the Infinite Good too much
to be happy in soul or sound in body unless He be revealed to
them as a loving father. And this knowledge of God once pos-
sessed and lost again, although it breeds a purer, a more per-
fectly disinterested love, leaves both soul and body in a state of
acute distress. " My soul thirsteth for Thee, my flesh longeth
for Thee, in a dry and desert land without water."

Tried by these visitations, he was free to acknowledge that
in past times he had been favored above others :

" Oh ! there was a time," he said, " when I was borne along
high above nature by the grace of Go'd, and I feared that I
should die without being subject to nature, and should never
feel the need of the supernatural. But for many years now I
have been left by God to my natural weakness and get nothing
whatever except what I earn."

The following words of his indicate the cleansing process of
these divine influences ; it is from memoranda :

" He said to me once, after he had been for nine or ten
years subject to almost unceasing desolation of spirit, * All this
suffering, though it has been excruciating, has greatly purified
me and was of the last necessity to me. Oh, how proud I was !
how vain I was ! And these long years of abandonment by God
have healed me.' I think this was the only time I ever knew
him to connect his sufferings with fault. What he said may
have referred to the mere temper and frame of his mind rather
than to particular, specific faults. He undoubtedly thought more

34 THE LIFE OF FA THER HECKER. [Oct.,

highly of human nature before that desolation began than he
did at the end of it."

Meantime he used every aid for the assuagement of his inte-
rior sufferings, just as he conscientiously tried every means for
the restoration of his bodily health. Good books helped him
greatly. He recited his Breviary as he would read a new and
interesting book, underlining here and there, and noting on the
margins. But during most of his time of illness his infirmities
made the Divine Office impossible. Every day he read or had
read to him some parts of the Scriptures in English. " With-
out the Book of Job," he used to say, " I would have broken
down completely." Lallemant, St. John of the Cross, St. Te-
resa, St. Catherine of Genoa, and other authors of a mystical
tendency he frequently used. But next to the Scriptures no
book served him so well during his illness as Abandonment, or
Entire Surrender to Divine Providence, a small posthumous trea-
tise of Father P. J. Caussade, S.J., edited and published by
Father H. Ramiere, S.J., with a strong defence of the author's
doctrine by way of preface. At Father Hecker's suggestion it
was translated into English by Miss Ella McMahon, and has al-
ready soothed many hearts in difficulties of every kind. It is
an ingenious compendium of all spiritual wisdom, but it seemed
to Father Hecker that submission to the Divine Will is taught in
its pages as it has never been done since the time of the Apos-
tles. The little French copy which he used is thumbed all to
pieces. He used it incessantly when in great trouble of mind
and knew it almost by heart. As he read its sentences or heard
them read he would ejaculate, " Ah, how sweet that is ! " " Oh,
what a great truth ! " " Oh, that is a most consoling doctrine ! "
just as a man exhausted with thirst and covered with dust, as
he drinks and bathes at a gushing fountain in the desert, calls
out and sighs and smiles.

Did he not find men here and there in his travels with whom
he would take counsel and who could comfort him ? There is
little trace of it, though he never lacked sympathetic friends for
his bodily ailments. In truth he tried to maintain a cheerful ex-
terior, though occasionally he failed in his attempts to do so.
Only once do we find by his letters and diaries that he opened
his mind freely on his interior difficulties while in Europe, and
that was to Cardinal Deschamps, who gave him, he writes, very
great comfort.

No part of his sojourn in the Old World pleased and pro-

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 35

fited him so much as his trip up the Nile in the winter of
1873-4-

" In information of most various kinds," he writes, " it has
been the richest four months of my whole life. The value intel-
lectually and religiously as well as physically is incalculable.
Given but one trip, it would puzzle me to name any which can
compare with that up the Nile to Wady-Halfa. Nubia must be
included. It has something of its own which you can find
neither in Egypt nor elsewhere : silence, repose, almost total
solitude, and its own peculiar people."

His companions were few in number and congenial in tastes,
the climate mild and equable, and the people and country alto-
gether novel. The journey, which extended into Nubia, was
made in a flat-boat, the Sitting Miriam el Adra Our Lady
Mary the Virgin the sail propelling them when the wind was
fair, the crew towing them in calm weather ; when the wind was
contrary they tied up to the bank. The progress was, of course,
slow, and yet his diary, the only one written during his illness
with ample entries, shows that every day gave new enjoyment.
He was provided with letters which enabled him to say Mass at
the missionary stations along the river. The wonderful ruins of
the ancient cities of Egypt gave him much entertainment. But
his mind dwelt fondly on thoughts of Abraham, Joseph, and the
chosen people, and especially upon the Holy Family, as well as
the monks of the desert. He was much interested in the Mo-
hammedan natives ; their open practice of prayer, the instinc-
tive readiness with which the idea of God and of eternity was
welcomed to their thoughts, and, withal, their utter religious
stagnation, which he traced to their ignorance of the Trinity,
filled his mind with questions. How to convert these slug-
gish contemplatives, what type of Catholicity would be likely
to flourish in the East, and how it could be reconciled with
the stirring traits of the West, busied his mind. He often
recalls his distant friends and contrasts new America with old
Egypt. He wrote home when opportunity served, as thus to
Father Hewit :

" With the hope that this note will reach you in due season,
I greet you from this land from which Moses taught, and which
our infant Saviour trod, with a right merry Christmas and a
happy New Year to yourself and all the members of the com-
munity, all in the house, and the parishioners of St. Paul's. In
VOL. LIV. 3

36 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

my prayers all have a share and in the Holy Sacrifice of the al-
tar. My heart and its affections are present with you. Could I
realize its desire, I would shed a continuous flow of blessings on
each one of you like a great river Nile the river which Abra-
ham saw and whose banks were hallowed by the footsteps of
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Remember me especially in all your
prayers on these great festivals. Offer up a Mass for my special
intention on each of them."

The excursion to Nubia and back did him so much good
physically, and left his mind with a peace which seemed so set-
tled, that for a time he had strong hopes of recovery ; but he
was soon undeceived.

On the 1 5th of April Father Hecker left Cairo for Jerusalem,
and spent some weeks in the Holy Land, continuing to enjoy
an interval of spiritual relief. He writes :

" In reciting the Gloria and the Credo, after having been in
the localities where the great mysteries which they express took
place, one is impressed in a wonderful manner with their actual-
ity. The truths of our holy faith seem to saturate one's blood,
enter into one's flesh, and penetrate even to the marrow of one's
bones."

The first greeting which he sent from the holy places was a
letter to his mother, full of expressions of the most tender affec-
tion and gratitude, as well as of ardent religious emotions pro-
duced by moving among the scenes of our Lord's life. He en-
closed a little bunch of wild flowers plucked from Mount Sion.
He soon returned to Europe to escape the hot summer of Pales-
tine, and began his round of visits to health resorts, shrines, and
occasionally to a friend of more than usual attraction. His
brother John died about this time, and this news drew from him
a letter of encouragement and condolence to their mother. To
George Hecker and his wife he wrote often, his letters being full
of affection,. of entire submission to the Divine Will, and of relig-
ious sentiments.

The following may be of interest as indicating the return of
his disconsolate frame of mind :

" I have taken to writing fables. Here is one : Once upon a
time a bird was caught in a snare. The more it struggled to
free itself, the more it got entangled. Exhausted, it resolved to
wait with the vain hope that the fowler, when he came, would

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 37

set it at liberty. His appearance, however, was not the signal
for its restoration to smiling fields and fond companions, but the
forerunner of death at his hands. Foolish bird ! why did you
go into the snare ? Poor thing ; it could not find food anywhere,
and it was famishing with hunger ; the seed was so attractive,
and he who had baited the trap knew it full well, and that the
bird could not resist its appetite. The fowler is our Lord. The
bait is Divine Love. The bird is the soul. O skilful catcher
of souls ! O irresistible bait of Divine Love ! O pitiable victim !
but most blessed soul ; for in the hands of our Lord the soul
only dies to self to be transformed into God."

In all his journeyings in search of beneficial change of air or
for the use of medicinal waters, he endeavored to take in the
famous shrines; as for places noted in profane history, or the
usual resorts of tourists, there is not the least mention of them
in his letters, unless an exception be made in favor of those in
Egypt and some art galleries in Europe. But, " attracted by St.
Catherine," he went back to her relics at Genoa once more.
Drawn by St. Francis de Sales, he made a visit to Annecy which
had a soothing effect upon him, for that saint was another of his
favorites. He often went out of his way to see a friend, or
to seek the acquaintance of some man or woman of reputation
in religious circles, and he was himself surprised at the number
of those who had heard of him and wished to know him. He
readily formed acquaintances, and American, English, and
French fellow-travellers could easily have his conversation and
company on condition that they would converse on religious
matters, or on the graver social and racial topics. It was not a
little singular that, although suffering from weakness of the ner-
vous system, he could talk abstruse philosophy by the hour with-
out mental fatigue. Discussing such points as the different move-
ments of nature and grace, the various theories of apprehending
the existence of God, or how to bring about conviction in the
minds of non-Catholics on the claims of the Church, he could tire
the strong brain of a well man. It was the things below which
tired him. He illustrated his conversation by gleams of light re-
flected from his past experience. When circumstances condemn
such generous souls as Father Hecker to inactivity, a favorite sol-
ace is picking up fragments of work or recalling high ideas from
the crowded memory of their former zeal, often with much profit
to those who listen. And this was no idle-minded or boastful
trait in him, as we see from the following:

38 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

" Be assured I shall not follow my own will if I can help it.
Every dictate of prudence and wisdom will be my guide. Until
the clouds clear away I shall be quiet, waiting, watching and
praying, seeking for light wherever there is a reasonable prospect
of obtaining it. In the meanwhile my time is not misspent.
The journeys which I have made, the persons whom I have met
on my way these and a thousand other things incident to my
present way of life are the best of educators for improving one's
mind, for correcting one's judgments, and for giving greater
breadth to one's thoughts. ... It seems to me that I al-
most see visibly and feel palpably the blessing of divine grace
on the work of the community, in its harmony, in the success of
its missions, in the special graces to its members, in their cheer-
fulness and zeal : all this, too, in my absence. My absence,
therefore, cannot be displeasing to the Divine Will ; rather these
things seem to indicate the contrary, and they awake in my soul
an inexpressible consolation."

But he said to one of his brethren afterwards : " Oh, father !
I was sad all the time that I was in Europe. Why so ?
Well, it was because I was away from home, away from my
work, away from my companions. And that was why I attached
myself while there to those persons who felt as we did, and
were of like views, and participated in our aims and purposes."

How he felt about his chances of recovery is shown by the
following :

" I have nothing further to say about my health than that I
have none. Were I twelve hours, or six, in my former state of
health, my conscience would give me no moment of peace in my
present position. It would worry me and set me to work. As
it is I am tranquil, at peace, and doing nothing except willingly
bearing feebleness and inertia."

From Paris, June 2, 1874, he writes to George and Josephine
Hecker of a visit to Cardinal Deschamps in Brussels, where he
met his old director, Father de Buggenoms. He expressed him-
self fully to them about the state of religion in Europe, and, al-
though both were his admirers and warm friends, it was only on
the third day that he made himself fully understood, and dis-
abused their minds of reserves and suspicions. But before leav-
ing " a complete understanding, warm sympathy, and entire ap-
proval " was the result. In one of the earlier chapters of this
Life we have adverted to Father Hecker's difficulty in making

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 39

himself understood. On this occasion he suffered much pain, for
which, he says, the joy of the final agreement amply repaid him.

He formed an intimate friendship with the Abbe Xavier Du-
fresne, a devout and enlightened priest of Geneva, and with his
father, Doctor Dufresne, well known as the mainstay of all the
works of charity and religion in that city. The Abbe Dufresne
became much attached to Father Hecker. " The Almighty
knows," he wrote to him, " how ardently I wish to see you
again, for no one can feel more than I the want of your conver-
sation, it was so greatly to my improvement." We have received
from. the Abbe Dufresne a memorial of Father Hecker, which is
valuable as independent contemporary testimony. It is so appre-
ciative and so instructive that we shall give the greater part of
it as an appendix, together with two letters from Cardinal New-
man written after Father Hecker's death.

The following is from a letter from Mrs. Craven, written early
in 1875 :

" That we have thought of you very often I need not tell
you, nor yet that we have thought and talked of and pondered
over the many and the great subjects which have been dis-
cussed during this week of delightful repose and solitude
(though certainly not of silence). Let me, for one, tell you that
many words of yours will be deeply and gratefully and usefully
remembered, and that I feel as if all you explained to us in
particular concerning the inward life which alone gives meaning
and usefulness to outward signs and symbols (let them be ever
so sacred), and the ways and means of quickening that inward
life, all come home to me as a clear expression of my own
thoughts by one who had read them better than myself."

Such was a devout and intellectual Frenchwoman's way of
describing an influence similarly felt by men and women of all
classes, and of the most diverse schools of thought, whom
Father Hecker met in Europe.

This was written on hearing news of the community :

" It is consoling to see all these good works progressing [in
the Paulist community]. To me they sound more like an echo
of my past than the actual present. Before going up the Nile
I used to say to some of my friends, that I once knew a man
whose name was Hecker, but had lost his acquaintance, and I
was going up the Nile to find him. Perhaps I would overtake
him at Wady-Halfa in Nubia ! But I didn't. . Sometimes I
think the search is in vain, and that I shall have to resign my-
self to his loss and begin a new life. Tuesday of this week my

40 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

intention is to go to Milan and stop some days. I find friends
in almost every city. Friday last I dined with the Archbishop
of Turin, and have made the acquaintance of one or two priests
here. Occasionally I visit museums, picture galleries, etc. ; and
thus time is outwardly passing by, until it pleases God to shed
more light on my soul, and to impart more strength to my
body, and make clear my path."

Here are his impressions of Rome after its occupation by
the Italians, together with an account of an audience with the
Holy Father :

" Rome is indeed changed, not so much outwardly, ma-
terially, as in spiritual atmosphere. It has lost its Christian
exorcism and returned to its former pagan condition. The
modern spirit, too, has entered it with activity in the material
order. The old order, I fear, is never to return ; that is to say,
as it was ; if it returns at all it will be on another basis. The
last citadel has given way to the invasion of modern activity
and push. Who would have dreamed of this twenty years ago ?
The charm of Rome is gone, even to non-Catholics, for they
felt raised above themselves into a more congenial and spiritual
atmosphere while here, and their souls enjoyed it, though their
intellectual prejudices were opposed to the principles. The
charm they were conscious of forced them back again to Rome
in spite of themselves. But that charm has in a great measure
gone."

" The other evening I had a very pleasant private audience
with the Holy Father. Among other matters I showed him
The Young Catholic, which pleased him very much. He was
struck with the size of the jackass in the picture of Ober-
Amergau, and asked if they grew so large in that country. I
replied : * Holy Father, asses nowadays grow large everywhere.'
He laughed heartily and said, * Bene trovato''

Father Hecker was in Rome when, in March, 1875, his old
friend and patron and first spiritual adviser, Archbishop McClos-
key, was made Cardinal. He was much rejoiced, and sent the
Cardinal a rich silk cassock, and gave a public banquet to Mon-
signor Roncetti and Doctor Ubaldi, who were to carry the in-
signia of the cardinalate to New York. We are indebted to
the kindness f Archbishop Corrigan for a copy of Father
Hecker's letter of congratulation, the principal parts of which
we subjoin. The view of public policy concerning the College

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 41

of Cardinals expressed in this letter was developed at length in
an article published by Father Hecker in THE CATHOLIC
WORLD when Cardinal Gibbons was appointed ; it will also be
found in his latest volume, The Church and the Age :

" The choice of the Supreme Pontiff in making you the first
Cardinal of the hierarchy of the United States gives great satis-
faction here to all your friends. For as honors and dignities in
the Church proceed by way of distinguished merit and abilities,
the qualities which they have always recognized and esteemed
in you are by the event made known to the whole world.

" This elevation to the cardinalate of an American prelate is
a cheering sign that the dignities of the Church are open to
men of merit of all nations, and it is to be hoped that every
nation will be represented in the College of Cardinals in pro-
portion to its importance, and in that way the Holy See will
represent by its advisers the entire world, and render its uni-
versality more complete. The Church will be a gainer, and the
world too ; and I have no doubt that your appointment to this
office in the Church will be, from this point of view, popular
with the American people."

His continued and insensibly increasing weakness of body,
as well as what seemed an unconquerable mental aversion to
attempting even partially to resume his former career in the
United States, seemed to settle negatively the question of his
early return home. He began to think that it was God's will that
he should permanently transfer his influence to the Old World.
His mind was full of the religious problems of Europe, and the
notion of Paulists for Europe, differing in details from Ameri-
can Paulists but identical in spirit, soon occupied his thoughts.
The reader will remember Father Hecker's conviction, expressed
when leaving Rome after the Vatican Council, that the condi-
tion of things in the Old World invited the apostolate of a free
community of wholly sanctified men, such as he would have the
Paulists to be. He now became persuaded, or almost so, that
God meant his illness to be the means of practically inaugurat-
ing such a movement. By it the dim outlines of men's yearn-
ings for a religious awakening, which he everywhere met with
among the European nations, could be brought out distinctly
and realized by an adaptation of the essentials of community
life to changed European conditions. He thought he could
select the leading spirits for the work, and, without overtaxing

42 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

his strength, teach them the principles and inspire them with
the spirit necessary to success. All this is brought forward in
his letters and discussed. But it was not to be in his time.

The following entries in his journal, made during the Lent
of 1875, have this European, or rather universal, apostolate in
view :

" The Holy Spirit is preparing the Church for an increased
infusion of Himself in the hearts of the faithful. This increased
action of the Holy Spirit will renew the whole face of the
earth, in religion and in society. Souls will be inspired by Him
to assist in bringing about this end.

"The question is how shall such souls co-operate with Him
in preparation for this extraordinary outpouring of divine grace ?
The law of all extensive and effectual work is that of associa-
tion. The inspiration and desire and strength to co-operate and
associate in facilitating this preparation for the Holy Spirit must
come to each soul from the Holy Spirit Himself.

"What will be the nature of this association and the special
character of its work ? The end to be had in view will be to
set on foot a means of co-operation with the Church in the con-
quest of the whole world to Christ, the renewal of the Apostolic
spirit and life. For unity, activity, and choice of means reliance
should be had upon the bond of charity in the Holy Spirit and
upon His inspirations.

" The central truth to actuate the members should be the
Kingdom of Heaven within the soul, which should be made the
burden of all sermons, explaining how it is to be gained now.

" Men will be called for who have that universal synthesis of
truth which will solve the problems, eliminate the antagonisms,
and meet the great needs of the age ; men who will defend and
uphold the Church against the attacks which threaten her
destruction, with weapons suitable to the times ; men who will
turn all the genuine aspirations of the age, in science, in social-
ism, in politics, in spiritism, in religion, which are now perverted
against the Church, into means of her defence and universal
triumph.

" If it be asked, therefore, in what way the co-operation with
the new phase .of the Church in the increase of intensity and
expansion of her divine life in the souls of men is to be insti-
tuted, the answer is as follows : By a movement. . . . spring-
ing from the synthesis of the most exalted faith with all the.
good and true in the elements now placed in antagonism to the

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 43

Church, thus eliminating antagonisms and vacating contro-
versies. . . ."

"Can a certain number of souls be found who are actuated
by the instinct of the Holy Spirit, the genius of grace, to form
an associative effort in the special work of the present time ?
If there be such a work, and an associative effort be . necessary,
will not the Holy Spirit produce in souls, certain ones at least,
such a vocation ? Is not the bond of unity in the Holy Spirit
which will unite such souls all that is needed in the present
state of things to do this work ? "

CHAPTER XXXIII.
"THE EXPOSITION OF THE CHURCH."

WHILE in Europe God opened Father Hecker's soul to the
cries of the nations. He was profoundly interested in the state
of religion there, and the persecutions suffered by Catholics in
Germany, in Switzerland, and in Italy during his stay, while it
aroused his sympathies, increased his desire to find a remedy, and
a fundamental one, for the evils 'from which the Church suffered.
The peoples of the Old World, with their differing tendencies,
were incessantly disputing in his mind. They were always dis-
playing over against each other their diverse traits of race and
tradition, at the same time that they were actually passing be-
fore his eyes in his constant journeyings in search of health.

What amazed and no less irritated Father Hecker was the
political apathy of Catholics. All the active spirits seemed to
hate religion. A small minority of anti-Christians was allowed
entire control of Italy and France, and exhibited in the govern-
ment of those foremost Catholic commonwealths a pagan ferocity
against everything sacred; and this was met by "timid listless-
ness" on the part of the Catholic majority. These latter evad-
ed the accusation of criminal cowardice by an extravagant dis-
play of devotional religion. To account for this anomaly and to
offer a remedy for it, Father Hecker in the winter of 1875 pub-
lished a pamphlet of some fifty pages, entitled An Exposition of
the Church in View of Recent Difficulties and Controversies and
the Present Needs of the Age. It is a brief outline of his views,
held more or less distinctly since his case in Rome in 1857-8,
but fully unfolded in his mind at the Vatican Council and ma-
tured during his present sojourn in Europe ; the reader has

44 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

already been given a summary of them in a letter treating of
the providential meaning of the Vatican decrees.

What is the matter with Catholics, that they allow their
national life, in education, in art, in literature, in general poli-
tics, to be paganized by petty cliques of unbelievers? How ac-
count for this weakness of character in Catholics? The answer
is that the devotional and ascetical type on which they are
formed is one calculated to repress individual activity, a quality
essential to political .success in our day. Energy in the world of
modern politics is not the product of the devotional spirit domi-
nant on the continent of Europe. That spirit in its time saved
the Church, for it fostered submission when the temptation was
to revolt. .

" The exaggeration," says the Exposition, " of personal
authority on the part of Protestants brought about in the
Church its greater restraint, in order that her divine authority
might have its legitimate exercise and exert its salutary influence.
The errors and evils of the times [the Reformation era] sprang
from an unbridled personal independence, which could only be
counteracted by habits of increased personal dependence. Con-
traria contrariis curantur. The defence of the Church and the
salvation of the soul were [under these circumstances] ordinarily
secured at the expense, necessarily, of those virtues which pro-
perly go to make up the strength of Christian manhood. The
gain was the maintenance and victory of divine truth, and the
salvation of the soul. The loss was a certain falling off in
energy, resulting in decreased action in the natural order. The
former was a permanent and inestimable gain. The latter was a
temporary and not irreparable loss."

The passive virtues, fostered under an overruling Providence
for the defence of threatened external authority in religion, and
producing admirable effects of uniformity, discipline, and obedi-
ence, served well in the politics of the Reformation and post-
Reformation eras, when nearly all governments were absolute
monarchies ; but the present governments are republics or con-
stitutional monarchies, and are supposed to be ruled by the
citizens themselves. This demands individual initiative, active
personal exertion and direct interference in public affairs. Vigi-
lant and courageous voters rule the nations. Therefore, without
injury to entire obedience, the active virtues in both the natural
and supernatural orders must be mainly cultivated ; in the first

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECICER. 45

order everything that makes for self-reliance, and in the second
the interior guidance of the Holy Spirit in the individual soul.
This, the Exposition maintains, is the way out of present diffi-
culties. That it is the Providential way out, is shown by most
striking evidence : the diversion .of the anti-Catholic forces from
the attack against authority to one against the most elementary
principles of religion God, conscience, and immortality; the
drift of Anglo-Saxon and Teutonic minds of a religious cast
towards the Church, calling for spiritual attractions in accord-
ance with the independence of character peculiar to those
races ; the hopeless failure of the post-Reformation methods to
meet the needs of the hour ; and especially the Vatican decrees,
which have set at rest all controversy on authority among Cath-
olics. The needs of the times, therefore, call for virtues among
Catholics which shall display the personal force of Catholic life
no less than that which is organic. These must all centre
around the cultivation of the Holy Spirit in the individual soul.

" The light the age requires for its renewal," says the Exposi-
tion, "can only come from the same source. The renewal of the
age depends on the renewal of religion. The renewal of religion
depends upon the greater effusion of the creative and renewing
power of the. Holy Spirit. The greater effusion of the Holy
Spirit depends on the giving of increased attention to. His move-
ments and inspirations in the soul. The radical and adequate
remedy for all the evils of our age, and the source of all true
progress, consist in increased attention and fidelity to the action
of the Holy Spirit in the soul. 'Thou shalt send forth Thy
Spirit and they shall be created : and Thou shalt renew the
face of the earth.'"

The following extract gives the synthesis of the twofold
action of the Holy Spirit, showing how external authority and
obedience to it are amply secured by the interior virtues :

" The Holy Spirit in the external authority of the Church
acts as the infallible interpreter and criterion of divine revelation.
The Holy Spirit in the soul acts as the Divine Life-giver and
Sanctifier. It is of the highest importance that these two dis-
tinct offices of the Holy Spirit should not be confounded. The
supposition that there can be any opposition, or contradiction,
between the action of the Holy Spirit in the supreme decisions
of the authority of the Church, and the inspirations of the Holy
Spirit in the soul, can never enter the mind of an enlightened

46 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

and sincere Christian. The Holy Spirit, which through the au-
thority of the Church teaches divine truth, is the same Spirit
which prompts the soul to receive the divine truths which He
teaches. The measure of our love for the Holy Spirit is the
measure of our obedience to the. authority of the Church. . . .
There is one Spirit, which acts in two different offices concur-
ring to the same end, the regeneration and sanctification of the
soul.

" In case of obscurity or doubt concerning what is the
divinely revealed truth, or whether what prompts the soul is or
is not an inspiration of the Holy Spirit, recourse must be had
to the Divine Teacher or criterion, the authority of the Church.
For it must be borne in mind that to the Church, as repre-
sented in the first instance by St. Peter, and subsequently by
his successors, was made the promise of her Divine Founder,
that ' the gates of hell should never prevail against her.' No such
promise was ever made by Christ to each individual believer.
' The Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of Truth.'
The test, therefore, of a truly enlightened and sincere Christian
will be, in case of uncertainty, the promptitude of his obedience
to the voice of the Church.

" From the above plain truths the following practical rule of
conduct may be drawn : The Holy Spirit is the immediate
guide of the soul in the way of salvation and sanctification ; and
the criterion, or test, that the soul is guided by the Holy Spirit,
is its ready obedience to the authority of the Church. This rule
removes all danger whatever, and with it the soul can walk, run,
or fly, if it chooses, in the greatest safety and with perfect lib-
erty, in the ways of sanctity."

" The practical aim of all true religion is to bring each indi-
vidual soul under the immediate guidance of the Divine Spirit.
The Divine Spirit communicates Himself to the soul by means
of the sacraments of the Church. The Divine Spirit acts as the
interpreter and criterion of revealed truth by the authority of
the Church. The Divine Spirit acts as the principle of regener-
ation and sanctification in each Christian soul.

" Such an exposition of Christianity, the union of the in-
ternal with the external notes of credibility, is calculated to
produce a more enlightened and intense conviction of its divine
truth in the faithful, to stimulate them to a more energetic per-
sonal action ; and, what is more, it would open the door to
many straying but not altogether lost children, for their return
to the fold of the Church. The increased action of the Holy

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 47

Spirit, with a more vigorous co-operation on the part of the
faithful, which is in process of realization, will elevate the human
personality to an intensity of force and grandeur productive of
a new era in the Church and to society ; an era difficult for the
imagination to grasp, and still more difficult to describe in
words, unless we have recourse to the prophetic language of the
inspired Scriptures."

It is thus made plain that Father Hecker does not deny the
harmony between the devotional spirit and practices prevalent in
different ages of the Church ; but he calls attention to the fact
that the dominant note of one age is not always the same as
that in another. And in using the words criterion and test, de-
scriptive of the Church, he would convey their full meaning :
not merely a plumb-line for the rising wall but divine accuracy
itself made external. His outer criterion is to the inner life
what articulate speech is to the human voice.

" The Exposition is nothing else," he writes home, " than a
general outline of a movement from without to within ; as in
the sixteenth century the movement was one from within to
without. This was occasioned by the nature of the attack of
Protestantism. The Church having with increased [external]
agencies protected what was assaulted, can return to her normal
course with increased action. I give an indication of the nature
of this movement :

"An increased action of the Holy Spirit in the soul in con-
sequence of this greater attention directed to the inferior life,
and a more perfect explanation of the same. An exposition of
the relation of the external to the internal in the Church. The
action of the Holy Spirit in the soul and His gifts are the reme-
dies for the evils of our times. The development of the intelli-
gible side of the mysteries of faith, and the intrinsic reasons of
the truths of divine revelation. Such a movement will open the
door for the return of the Saxon races. The Latin-Celts in rela-
tion to the development of the hierarchy, discipline, worship, and
aesthetics of the Church are considered. Causes of Protestantism
antagonism and jealousy of races ; present persecutions. The
Saxon idea of the Catholic Church. Reason for it they see only
the outward and human side of the Church. Return of the
Saxons in consequence of the new phase of development the
display of the inward and the divine to their intelligence. The
transition of races ; in the future the Saxon will supernaturalize

48 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

the natural, the Latin-Celts will naturalize the supernatural. The
plan and suggestions given are the way to escape the extermina-
tion of Christianity by the Saxons, and the denial of Christianity
by the apostasy of the Latins. The union of these races in
the Church, with their civilization and force, is the means of
spreading Christianity rapidly over the whole world.

" In the Exposition I follow simply the footsteps of the
Church as indicated in her history, in the Encyclicals of Pius
IX., and the Vatican Council. The Church is God acting
directly on the human race, guiding it to its true destiny, the
road of all true progress."

The Exposition, as already said, had been talked to all
comers by Father Hecker, and in various parts of Europe, but
was put into shape in the autumn of 1874, while he was in the
north of Italy. He took it to Rome and offered it to the Pro-
paganda. Press. No fault was found with it; many high digni-
taries, some of them members of the Congregation of the Sacred
Palace, which has charge of the censorship, heartily approved of
it and would have it published at once; but at the last moment
this was decided by the authorities to be inexpedient. It was
then sent to London, and Pickering brought it out anonymously,
and it was at once put into French by Mrs. Craven. It was
published as a leader in THE CATHOLIC WORLD about the same
time, and in 1887 formed the first chapter of The Church and
the Age, a compilation of Father Hecker's more important
later essays.

The Exposition contributes to the solution of the race prob-
lem as it affects religion. A glance at Europe shows the radical
difference which is symbolized by the terms Transalpine and Cis-
alpine, Latin and Teutonic. The one group of races most readi-
ly clings to the interior virtues of religion, the other to external
institutions. The problem is how to reconcile them, how to
bring both into unity. Father Hecker believed that the Latin
race had crowned its work in the Vatican Council and done it
gloriously, and that the time had arrived to invite the Teutonic
race to develop its force in the interior life of the Church.
There are passages in the following letter which indicate the
weight of this racial problem to him, as well as the supernatural
earnestness which he brought to the study of k. It serves to
explain a remark he once made : " I wrote the Exposition while
I was having very many lights about the Holy Ghost I
couldn't help but write it."

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 49

"PARIS, June n, 1874.

"DEAR GEORGE AND JOSEPHINE: There is not much for
me to add to my letter of the third of this month. My prepa-
rations are made to go to Mayence during the Catholic Assem-
bly, which commences on the fifteenth and lasts three days.
There I shall meet several persons whom I am interested in and
wish to see. Besides, ecclesiastical affairs in the German Empire
are in a very critical state, and this must add to the interest of
the Assembly. Meeting, as I frequently do, the leading minds
of Europe, enables me to compare views, appreciate difficulties,
and hear objections.

"It is just as difficult to get the Celtic [and Latin] mind to
conceive and appreciate the internal notes of the Church, and
the character of her divine interior life, as it is to get the Teu-
tonic mind to conceive and appreciate the divine external con-
stitution of the Church, the importance, and essential importance,
of her authority, discipline, and liturgy. But the weakness of
the former, and the persecutions now permitted by Divine
Providence to be visited on the latter, are teaching them both
the lessons they need to learn. To complete the development
of the truth, of the Church, each needs the other ; and Divine
Providence is shaping things so that in spite of all obstacles,
natural and induced, a synthesis of them both is forming in the
bosom of the Church. The work is slow but certain, concealed
from ordinary observation because divine ; but exceedingly beau-
tiful. Underneath all the persecutions, the oppression, the false
action, the whole outwardly critical condition of the Church and
society, there is an overpowering, counteracting, divine current,
leading to an all-embracing, most complete, and triumphant
unity in the Church. To see how all things wicked men as
well as the good, for God reigns over all contribute to this end
and are made to serve it, gives peace to the mind, repose to the
soul, and excites admiration and adoration of the Divine action
in the world.

" To have a conception of this all-embracing and direct action
of God in the affairs of this world, and by the light of faith to
see that the Church is the dwelling place of His holiness, majes-
ty, mercy, and power, and is the medium of this action, at first
stupefies, overwhelms, and, as it were, reduces the soul to nothing.
By degrees and imperceptibly it is raised from its nothingness;
timidly the soul opens its eyes and ventures to cast a glance,
and then to contemplate the Divinity which everywhere sur-

50 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

rounds it, as air and light do our bodies. The contemplation of
the Divine action becomes its only occupation and it is an irre-
sistible one. All the life, mind, and strength of the soul is in-
voluntarily absorbed in this direction, leaving the body scarcely
sufficient strength to continue its ordinary functions.

" How far will the body regain its former strength? What
will be the relation of the soul with its former occupations ?
Will this additional light require other conditions? Was this
light given for another and wider field of labor? These and
many other questions must arise in the soul, which in due season
will be answered. Its present duty is to practise conformity to
God's will, patience, detachment, discretion, and confidence."

There is hardly any part of this Life which does not assist
one in understanding the Exposition, especially the chapters on
the idea of a religious community and that giving his spiritual
doctrine. Many leading spirits hailed it with joy, among them
Margotti, the editor of the Unita Cattolica of Turin, and Cardi-
nal Deschamps. The former made Father Hecker's acquaintance
during a visit to Turin, and became a warm admirer of him and
his views. He compelled him to leave the hotel and lodge at
his house during his stay in that city. When the Exposition
came out he gave it two long and highly commendatory notices
in his journal, at the time the most influential Catholic one in
Italy, and published three chapters entire.

We have a copy of the Exposition annotated, at Father Heck-
er's request, by the late distinguished Jesuit, Father H. Ramiere.
These comments are valuable and suggestive. While modifying
Father Hecker's judgment as to the causes of the deterioration
of Catholic manliness, Father Ramiere recognizes the fact. The
remedies receive his emphatic approval, as also the author's ex-
planation of the synthesis of the inner and outer action of the
Holy Ghost in the Church.

When The Church and the Age appeared the English Jesuit
magazine, The Month, in its issue of July, 1888, gave the book a
very full and favorable, review, endorsing all the principles of the
Exposition. After saying that the Vatican decrees mark a spe-
cial epoch in the evolution of Christianity, and close a period of
attack one of the sharpest which the Church has ever sustained
upon her external authority, the reviewer continues:

" It completed the Church's defence, and left her free to con-
tinue unimpeded her normal course of internal development.
. . . The author displays remarkable breadth of thought, and
the book contains many passages which are not only eloquent as

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 51

a defence of Catholicity, but which cannot fail to impart instruc-
tion to the reflecting reader. We think it deserving of a wide
circulation among both clergy and laity, and it is with a desire
to further such a result that we propose to explain at some
length the views which we have already touched upon.
We want a Catholic individualism, which necessarily requires a
clear and recognized authority as a safeguard against the errors
to which individualism exposes itself, but which, on the other
hand, can never be begotten by the mere principle of authority
as such."

The Literarischer Handweiser, a German Catholic critical re-
view, published in Mu'nster, having a high character and wide
circulation, gave an equally favorable estimate of Father Heck-
er's views in a notice of The ChurcJi and the Age.

The following extracts from letters will close our considera-
tion of the Exposition, which we have thought worthy of so
careful and full a study because it is the remedial application of
Father Hecker's spiritual doctrines to the evils of European
Catholicity :

" It is consoling to see men of different opinions and of op-
posite parties in the Church regarding my pamphlet as the pro-
gramme of a common ground on which they can meet and
agree."

" I have had several interviews with Cardinal Deschamps. He
invited me to spend the evenings with him, as we are old and
very close friends. On all points, main points, our views are
one. And it is singular how the same precise ideas and views
have presented themselves at the same time to the minds of us
both. In matters which regard my personal direction, I have
consulted him several times, and fully. He has always taken a
special interest in my welfare in every sense. His counsel has
given me great relief, increased tranquillity, and will be of great
service. He remains here eight or ten days longer, and I will
see him as often during that period as I can."

A distinguished Swiss orator and prelate, since made cardinal,
told Father Hecker of a devout priest who gave a large number
of retreats to the clergy : " * When I saw him last/ said Monsig-

nor - to me, 'he said that since we had met he had given

retreats to seven hundred or eight hundred priests, and that he
had read to them the Exposition of the Church which I gave
him at my last interview with him.' "

" It will take time to understand the ideas in the Exposi-

VOL. LIV. 4

52 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

tion. It will take still longer time to see their bearing, appli-
cation, and results. Few at first will seize their import ; by de-
grees they will take in a wider circle. The difficulties of the
times, the anguish of many souls in the midst of the present
persecutions, etc., will draw attention to any project or plan or
system that offers a better future."

CHAPTER XXXIV.
IN THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

"I LOOK back," wrote Father Hecker in the summer of 1875,
" on these three years as one continuous and dreadful interior
struggle." This shows that the shadows were too deep and
broad for the intervals of peace, which we know from his letters
he had now and then enjoyed, to banish the impression of con-
stant gloom. And Father Hecker's readiness to return home upon
positive request will be the better appreciated when we remem-
ber how very painful to him was the very thought of his past
occupations. Nor was his bodily health in a hopeful condition.
While at Ragatz in the month of June, 1875, he met a distin-
guished physician from Paris, an excellent Catholic, whom he
had been strongly advised to consult before. Glad of the chance,
he submitted to a thorough examination, and received from him
a written statement to the effect that it would be dangerous to
take up any steady occupation, and that he should be entirely
free from care for at least a year ; otherwise a final break-down
was to be expected. This seemed effectually to bar all thoughts
of return. And such was his own settled conviction, as is
shown by the following, written about the end of June :

"Where could I find repose? Not in the community; not at
my brother's : nowhere else to go. Then, again, I would be
constantly required to give opinions and counsel in the affairs
of the community, which would require an application beyond
my strength. There is no other way than for me to remain con-
tented in Europe, with my feebleness and obscurity, in the
hands of God."

But on July 29 he received a letter which compelled him to
d ecide between tranquillity of spirit and bodily comfort perhaps
life itself on the one hand, and the call of his brethren on the

1891.3 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 53

other. He decided without a moment's hesitation and with the
utmost equanimity. We quote from a letter to George Hecker:

"Three days ago a letter from Father Hewit reached me
urging my immediate return in such strong language and with
such considerations that I wrote a reply expressing my readiness
to return at once. On re-reading the letter I found its tone so
urgent that I sent a telegram to the above effect. ... In
God's hands are my being, my soul, and all my faculties, to do
with them and direct them as He pleases. To return to the
United States and there arrange things to His pleasure, or to
leave me here. I am indifferent, quiet, entirely ready either not
to act or to act."

And so in October, 1875, Father Hecker was again in New
York. He begged the Fathers to allow him to stay with his
brother for the present, " for my nerves could not stand the
noise, the routine, and the excitement of the house in Fifty-
ninth Street." And when he did return to the convent to live,
which was four years afterwards, he was quite sure that his end
was at hand, though it did not come till nine years later.

During all the thirteen years between Father Hecker's return
to America and his death, his daily order of life was pretty
much the same as he described it in one of his letters from
Europe, already given to the reader. He did not resort any
longer to change of place or climate as a means of recovery; he
had tried that long enough. His physician, the one who served
the community, assisted him constantly with advice and reme-
dies, and once or twice he tried a sanitarium ; he was apt to try
anything suggested, being credulous about such matters. But his
strength of body slowly faded away. He was more disturbed
than surprised at this, and fought for life every inch of the way.

" If I were a Celt," he once said with a smile, " I should more
readily resign myself to. die, but I am of a race that clings fast to
the earth." His persistent struggle was sometimes calm, but was
generally sharpened by a horrible dread of death, which fastened
on his soul like a vampire, and gave a stern aspect to his self-
defence. His patience in suffering was most admirable, though
seldom clothed in the usual formalities. " Perhaps, after all," he
would sometimes say, " God will give me back my health, for I
have a work to do."

Though anything but an ill-tempered man, Father Hecker
was yet by nature ardent and irascible and quickly provoked by

54 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

opposition, but God gave him such a horror of dissension that
he would not quarrel, though it was often plain that his peace-
ful words cost him a hard struggle. Occasionally he lost his
temper for a little while, and this was when compelled to attend
to business under stress of great bodily or mental pain. We do
not think that he was ever known to attempt to move men by
anger, or even sternness. u If you ever tell any one about me,"
he said, " say that I believed in praising men more than in con-
demning them, and that I valued praise as a higher form of in-
fluence than any kind of threatening or compulsion." Nor did
he resort to the formalities of obedience to secure his end.
" Why don't you put me under obedience to do this ? " asked a
father who did not exactly approve of a proposal Father
Hecker had made to him. The answer was given with a good
deal of heat : " I have never done such a thing in my life, and I
am not going to begin now ! " Nor had he any use for bitter
speech even in cold blood. " One thing," he said in a letter,
" I will now correct ; a sneer intentionally or consciously is a
thing that, so far as my memory serves, I am as innocent of as a
little babe." Yet he could be sarcastic, as the following memo-
randum shows : " Cardinal Cullen once said to me, after I had
made a journey through Ireland, ' Well, Father Hecker, what do
you think of Ireland?' I answered: 'Your Eminence, my thoughts
about Ireland are such that I will get out of the country as soon
as I can ; for if I expressed my sentiments I should soon be put
into jail for Fenianism ! ' This was in 1867 while Fenianism^ was
rampant. Of course he did not approve of it, but the sights he
saw taught him its awful provocation. And once when unduly
pressed with the dictum of an author whose range of power was
not high enough to overcome Father Hecker's objections, he
said : " I am not content to live to be the echo of dead men's
thoughts." But it was not by skill in the thrust and parry of
argumentative fence that Father Hecker won his way in a dis-
cussion, but by the hard drive of a great principle. The follow-
ing memorandum describes the effect of this on an ordinary
man :

" It is rather amusing when Father Hecker asks me some of
his stunning questions on the deepest topics of the divine
sciences. I look blank at him, I ask him to explain, I fish up
some stale commonplace from the memory of my studies and
he then gives me his own original, his luminous answer."

And both his choice of subjects in conversation and his natu-
ral manner were according to his temperament, which was medi-

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 55

tative. This gave his countenance when at rest a peaceful cast
until within a few years of the end, when " death's pale flag "
cast upon it a shade of foreboding. We have a photograph of
him taken when he was about forty-five and in average good
health, showing a tranquil face, full of thought and with eyes
cast down ; to the writer's mind it is the typical Isaac Hecker.
But this expression changed in conversation, when not only his
words but his gestures and his glances challenged a friendly but
energetic conflict of opinion.

If it be asked, how did Father Hecker recreate himself dur-
ing those mournful years, the answer is that recreation in the
sense of a pleasurable relaxation seemed contrary to his nature
whether in sickness or in health. It was once said to him,
" Easter week is always a lazy time." " No, it is not," he an-
swered. " I never have known a time, not a moment, in my
whole life, when I felt lazy or was in an idle mood." He found
himself obliged, however, to get out of the house and take exer-
cise, walking in the park leaning on the arm of one of the com-
munity, or, if he was more than usually weak, being driven in
his brother's carriage. There were occasions when to kill time
was for him to Kill care to call his mind away from thoughts
of death and of the judgment, the dread of which fell upon him
like eternal doom. Then he would try to get some one to talk
to, or to go with him and look at pictures and statues ; or he
would work at mending old clocks, a pretty well mended collec-
tion of which he kept in his room against such occasions. In
the park he would often go and look at the beasts in the men-
agerie, and he spoke of them affectionately. " They bring to
my mind the power and beauty of God," he said. He came to
meals with the community, at least to dinner, until five or six
years before his death, when his appetite became so unreliable
that he took what food he could, and when he could, in his
room. He also attended the community recreations after meals
until a few years before the end ; but it was often noticed that
the process of humiliation he was undergoing caused him to
creep away into a corner, sit awhile with a very dejected look,
and then wearily go upstairs to his room. When he was urged
not to do this, " I cannot help it to save my life," was all the
answer he could give. He finally gave up the recreations almost
entirely.

But he hated laziness. " I am so weak," he once said, " and
my brain is so easily tired out that I am forced to read a great
deal to recreate myself. That's why you see me reading so

56 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

much." The book in which he was at the moment seeking rec-
reation was a ponderous work on metaphysics by a prolix
Scotchman, treating in many dreary chapters of such amusing
topics as the unity of the act of perception with the object per-
ceived ! As may be supposed of such a man, whose illness for-
bade action and whose interior trials made contemplation an agony,
he chafed sometimes at his enforced inactivity, though he was
never heard, as far as we can get evidence, openly to complain
of it.

Time and stagnation of . bodily forces did not alter his pro-
gressive ideas.

" Is it not wiser," he said, " to give one's thought and energy
to prepare the way for the future success and triumph of reli-
gion than to labor to continue the present [state of things], which
must be and is being supplanted ? Such an attitude may not be
understood and may be misinterpreted, and be one of trial and
suffering ; still it is the only one which, consistently with a sense
of duty, can be taken and maintained."

A bishop on his way to Rome once called on Father Hecker.
"Tell the Holy Father," he said to him, " that there are three
things which will greatly advance religion : First, to place the
whole Church in a missionary attitude make the Propaganda
the right arm of the Church. Second, choose the cardinals from
the Catholics of all nations, so that they shall be a senate rep-
resenting all Christendom. Third, make full use of modern ap-
pliances and methods for transacting the business of the Holy
See." Sometimes he discussed the activity of modern commerce
as teaching religious men a lesson. He once said :

" When Father Hecker is dead one thing may be laid to his
credit: that he always protested that it is a shame and an out-
rage that men of the world do more for money than religious
men will do for the service of God."

No glutton ever devoured a feast more eagerly than Father
Hecker read a sermon, a lecture, or an editorial showing the
trend of non-Catholic thought. After his death his desk was
found littered with innumerable clippings of the sort, many of
them pencilled with underlinings and with notes. These fur-
nished much of the matter of his conversation, and doubtless of
his prayers. Once he wrote to a friend :

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 57

" Nobody is necessary to God and to the accomplishment of
his designs. Yet at times I wish that I had the virtue that
some creatures have ; when cut into pieces each piece becomes
a new complete individual of the same species. I should cut my-
self into at least a dozen pieces to meet the demands made
upon me. What a splendid thing it is to think of our Lord go-
ing about doing wonders, eternal and infinite things, and all the
time seeming to be unoccupied. The truly simple soul reduces
all occupations to one, and in that one accomplishes all."

And his organizing faculty would busy itself in various
schemes, which, if they could not cure his weak body, could re-
lax with a fancied activity his tired soul. Thus in a letter he
said :

" Why should we not form a league for the cause of our
Lord, to whom we owe all? Unreserved devotion to His cause,
with patience, perseverance, humility, and sweetness, are weapons
that no man or woman or thing can withstand. Our Lord has
promised that if we believe in Him we shall do greater works
than He did. Let us believe in Him, and clothe ourselves
through faith in Him with His virtues, and who shall resist us?

" The first of all successes is Christ's triumph in our souls.
Everything that leads to this, humiliations, afflictions, calumnies,
contempt, mortifications, all work for us a glory exceeding the
imagination of man. To suffer for Christ's sake is the short-cut
in the way of becoming Christ-like."

The following anecdote of his missionary days shows Father
Hecker's contempt for lazy devotion. Once, when upon a mis-
sion, a young priest just returned home from Rome, where he had
made his studies, expressed his desire to get back again to Italy
as soon as possible, saying, " I find no time here to pray." Father
Hecker felt indignant, for it did not seem to him that the young
man was very much occupied. " Don't be such a baby," said he.
" Look around and see how much work there is to be done
here. Is it not better to make some return to God here in
your own country for what He has done for you, rather than
to be sucking your thumbs abroad ? What kind of piety do you
call that?"

He took a personal interest in all the members of the com-
munity, and this was greatly heightened if any one fell sick. We
remember his excitement when it was announced that one of
the Fathers, who had been sent to a hospital for a surgical

58 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

operation, had grown worse and was in danger of death. He
began to pace his room, to question sharply about doctors and
nurses, and immediately ordered Masses to be said and special
prayers by the community ; and this father he had seen very
little of and hardly knew from the others. " I cannot tell," he
wrote to a friend at the time of Father Tillotson's illness, " I
dare not express, how much I love him, what he is to me."
Always tender-hearted, the nearer he came to the end and the
more he suffered the more gentle were his feelings towards
all, the more kindly grew his looks, but also the more sad and
weary. He was always careful to express thanks for favors,
small or great. The following is from a letter to a 'friend:

"Your last note contained at the end a kind invitation.
Don't be troubled ; I'm not coming ! Do you know that some-
times I am tempted to think that I am necessary? Sometimes
the thought has come to me that I might run away from home
a week or so. Then I have driven the thought away as I
would a temptation. But I wished to thank you none the less
for your invitation, though I should never see you again. /
have an uncontrollable horror of ingratitude"

During his long years of illness Father Hecker's reading con-
tinued upon the lines he had ever followed, the Scriptures hold-
ing, of course, the first place. Besides reading or having read to
him certain parts adapted to the spiritual probation he was un-
dergoing, such as Job, the Passion of our Lord, and chapters of
the sapiential books, he also took the entire Scriptures in course,
going slowly through them from cover to cover and insisting on
every word being read, genealogies and all. He would some-
times interrupt the reader to make comments and ask questions.
The last words that he listened to at night were the words of
Scripture, read to him after he had got into bed. He declared
that they soothed him and settled his mind and calmed its dis-
turbance, and this was easily seen by his looks and manner.
Some who knew him well thought from his comments that God
gave him infused knowledge of a rare order about the sense of
Scripture. Once he said:

" When you were reading Ezechiel last night, oh, you cannot
understand what thoughts I had! During the past six months I
have learned how to understand him. I say within myself : * O
Ezechiel ! Ezechiel ! no one understands, no one understands
you in this world, except one here and there.' "

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 59

Next to Scripture came St. Thomas and St. John of the
Cross, the one for dogmatic and philosophical, the other for
devotional uses. It must have been soon after returning to
America as a Redemptorist that he procured a copy of Alago-
na's Compendium of St. Thomas, submitted it to Bishop Neu-
mann, whose learning was in high repute, and obtained his assur-
ance of its accuracy. That little book is a curiosity of
underlining and various other forms of emphasizing. It was with
him till death. From it he referred to the full works of St.
Thomas for complete statements, but he loved to ponder the
brief summary of the abridgment and work the principles out in
his own way. St. John of the Cross and Lallemant, as already
stated, were his hand-books of mysticism and ascetic principles.
The former he caused to be read to him in regular course
over and over again, enjoying every syllable with fresh relish.
In later days the Life of Mary Ward, by Mary Catherine
Chambers, and The Glories of Divine Grace, by Scheeben, afford-
ed him special pleasure. Books which told of the religious ten-
dencies of minds outside the Church were sure to interest him.
He studied them as Columbus inspected the drifting weeds and
the wild birds encountered on his voyage of discovery. Those
who served him as readers sometimes found this kind of litera-
ture pretty dry, just as Columbus's crew doubtless found it idle
work to fish up the floating weeds of the sea. The following
sentences occur in a diary written while in Europe in 1875. It
is a statement of his opinion of the objective points at which
Catholic teachers and writers of our day should aim :

"In dogmatic theology, when treating of the doctrine of the
fall of man keep in view the value of human nature and the
necessity of divine grace preceding every act of Christian life.

" In moral theology, stimulate the sense of personal responsi-
bility.

" In ascetic theology, fidelity to the Holy Spirit.

u In polemic theology, develop the intrinsic notes of the
Church."

As to novels, he fully appreciated their power over minds, but
we believe that he did not read half a dozen in his whole life,
and these he treated as he did graver works : he studied them.
" To read is one thing, to study is another," says Cardinal Man-
ning ; but all reading was study to Father Hecker. We remember
one novel which he read, slowly and most carefully, underlining

60 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Oct.,

much of it and filling the margins of every page with notes.
" Why don't you read novels, as other people do ? " he was
asked. " Because life is more novel than any fiction, for fiction is
but an attempt to paint life," he answered. No printed matter
of any kind, much less a book, ever could be a plaything to
Isaac Hecker. He often made more of the sentences on a scrap
of newspaper, and studied them far harder, than the writer of
them himself had done. A man whose play and work are in
such problems as, how God is known, how the Trinity subsists,
what beatitude is, how God's being is mirrored in man's activity,
has too real a life within him and about him to tarry long in
fiction or in any of the by-roads of literature. Poetry, how-
ever, in its higher forms, or with a strong ethical tendency, he
was very fond of. Perhaps his favorite among the poets was
Coventry Patmore.

After returning to New York Father Hecker, besides super-
vising the editorial work of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, wrote an occa-
sional article for its pages. The more important of these, twelve
in number, with the Exposition as a leader, were published in a
volume already mentioned, The Church and the Age. This book
appeared in 1887, and contains his views of the religious problems
in Europe and America, and also some controversial writings
against orthodox Protestantism and Unitarianism. These are
well-written, clean-cut, and aggressive pieces of polemical writ-
ing, whether against the errors of Protestants or of infidels. The
Church and the Age is the best exhibit of the author's opinions
and principles on topics of religious interest and those of race
and epoch having a, religious bearing. He has left a considerable
amount of unpublished matter, notably some essays on how God
is known, the reality of ideas, and the Trinity, together with
much on spiritual subjects. Let us hope that these and more of
his unpublished writings will some day be given to the public.
He always found difficulty in preparing matter for the press.
Using a pencil and a rubber eraser, he often positively wore the
paper through with writing, correcting, and writing again. He
seemed scrupulous about such matters, and in these circum-
stances he lacked the immediate expression of his thoughts which
came to him so spontaneously in his letters and diaries, as well
as in his public speaking. But he dictated readily, and with a
result of reaching quickly the form of words he would finally be
content with. By this means he prepared his articles on Doctor
Brownson, which appeared in THE CATHOLIC WORLD between
April and November, 1887.

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 61

His intercourse with the members of the community was
naturally much interfered with by his illness. But he loved to
listen to them speaking of their work, was greatly interested in
the building and decorating of the new church, and when the
missionaries came home was eager to hear them tell of their suc-
cess. He would invariably suggest that we should study how to
extend our preaching outside the regular missions, so as to take
in non-Catholics. He was also alive to opportunities for stimu-
lating others, in and out of the community, to do literary work.
At Lake George, where he spent his summers with the community,
he was able to have a familiar contact with us all, especially the
students, whom he enlisted in working about the grounds or the
house, helping as best he could. But after his illness began he
ever showed a certain constraint of manner when the conversa-
tion took a grave turn, a kind of shyness, which a judge of
character might interpret as meaning, " I am afraid you'll misun-
derstand me ; I am afraid you'll think I am a visionary."

(TO BE CONCLUDED IN NEXT NUMBER.)

*>,.,

V -,

pr*

COVta* 10.

62 THE INDIAN LA ws OF CANADA. [Oct.,

THE INDIAN LAWS OF CANADA.

THE legal status of the Indian in our Dominion is rather
peculiar. From one point of view he appears as a full-fledged
citizen, while from another his position seems like that of a child
for whom the state stands in loco parentis. Yet an Indian band
may enjoy a larger measure of Home Rule than does Ireland at
present ; and Indian minorities have greater liberties as to educa-
tion in its religious aspect than have the Catholic people of
your free Republic.

In 1839 Chief-Justice Macaulay gave it as his opinion that
the Indians had individually all the civil and political rights of
other subjects. " If possessed," said he, " of sufficient property
to qualify them, their competency to vote at elections, or to fill
municipal offices, if duly appointed thereto, could not be denied."
As to civil rights this opinion was borne out by the records of
the courts, and the election of Chief John Brant to a seat in the
old Legislative Assembly of Upper Canada seemed to confirm it
as to rights political. It is true the chief was deprived of his
seat, but not on account of his racial origin. That was the age
when a man's fitness to legislate was supposed to be in propor-
tion to the property of which he was seized ; and John Brant,
not holding in his own right sufficient thereof, was declared in-
eligible. But Chief-Justice Macaulay's opinion went out of fash-
ion. Indeed, at the time he wrote the official correspondence
constantly referred to the Indians as wards of the nation, and
they were ever encouraged to adopt towards the sovereign the
language of 'children towards a parent. In the report of the In-
dian Commission of 1856 we read that the status of the Indians
had "very much changed" since Justice Macaulay's views were
given ; that then there was no legislative declaration bearing on
the question, but that subsequently the Canadian Parliament from
time to time "provided for the Indians as a class incapable in
many respects of managing their own affairs." The Act 20 Vic-
toria formulated a method by which they might be "gradually
enfranchised," and the present law contains clauses framed with
the same intent. The Federal Parliament, however, endorsed a
few years ago the earlier view by extending its electoral fran-
chise to Indians, in the older provinces, who had made improve-
ments to the value of one hundred and fifty dollars on separate

1891.] THE INDIAN LAWS OF CANADA. 63

holdings occupied by them on a reserve as members of a band,
and who were possessed of the other requisite qualifications. " I
fancy," said the late Sir John Macdonald when this election law
was under discussion in Parliament " I fancy that an Indian who
is qualified would have a vote if he is a British subject. If an
Indian has an income of three hundred dollars a year he will
have a vote the same as another person." Hence the law did
not use the language of concession. It simply declared what
Indians should not vote.* The present local election law of On-
tario permits Indians who " do not reside among Indians " to vote.
Some of the " chiefs and warriors of the Six Nations," as they
style themselves, though they are more habituated to the arts of
husbandry than to the ways of war, decline to avail themselves
of the right to vote. Pointing to the royal proclamation of
1763, which recognized in the Indians territorial rights resembling
those of sovereign powers, they assert that they are allies, not
subjects of Her Britannic Majesty, and that the exercise of the
suffrage would be a virtual abdication of that position. They
have set forth in elaborate memorials that they constitute a real
imperium in imperio, and should not be held amenable to our
laws and our courts of judicature. These, are the dreamers. The
Indians have their quota of practical politicians. The expression
" Indian " is declared by the '* Indian Act " f to mean, for the pur-
poses of that statute, any male person of Indian blood reputed
to belong to any band, any child of such persons, and any
woman who is or was lawfully married to such person. An In-
dian woman marrying a white man ceases to be an Indian in
the eye of the law, though she is allowed to share in the annui-
ties and interest moneys of the band to which she belonged, but
such income may be commuted by the band at ten years' pur-
chase. An Indian who has resided continuously for five years
outside of Canada without permission ceases to be regarded as
a Canadian Indian, and cannot be admitted to the band of
which he was formerly a member, or to any other band, without
the consent of such band and the approval of the Indian De-
partment. No Indian is liable to be taxed for any real or per-
sonal property " unless he holds, in his individual right, real es-
tate under a lease or in fee simple, or personal property outside
of the reserve " ; and it is illegal to take security, or obtain any
lien or charge upon the real or personal property of an Indian,
except such as is subject to taxation. The Indians, however,

* Sec. 9, cap. 5, Revised Statutes of Canada.

t Cap. 43, Revised Statutes of Canada, amended by cap. 33, 50-51 Vic., cap. 22, 51 Vic.,
and cap. 29, 53 Vic.

64 THE INDIAN LAWS OF CANADA. [Oct.,

have the right to sue for any debt due them, or in respect of
any tort or wrong, or to compel the performance of obligations
contracted ; but in any suit or action between Indians, or in a
case of assault in which the defendant is an Indian, no appeal
lies from the court of first instance if the penalty imposed does not
exceed ten dollars. The Indians west of Ontario are not permit-
ted to dispose of, without permission, any presents (such as agricul-
tural implements, etc.) given them or any property acquired with
the annuities paid them. The red man is much restricted as to
the devising of his belongings. He may bequeath the land held
by him under location ticket, together with " the personal effects
and other belongings of which he is the recognized owner," but
not to any one further removed from him than a second cousin,
or to any one not entitled to reside on the reserve on which
the property devised is situated. Then, before the will becomes
operative it must, after the death of the testator, be consented
to by his band and approved by the head of the Indian Depart-
ment. In the event of its not being so assented to or approved,
the testator is deemed to have died intestate ; and in such case
the land held by the Indian, together with his goods and chat-
tels, devolves, one-third upon his widow, "if she be a woman of
good moral character and was living with her husband at the
time of his death," and the remainder in equal shares upon his
children. During the minority of the children the widow is to
act as administratrix ; but she may for cause be removed by the
Superintendent-General of Indian Affairs, who has authority to
appoint another to administer the property, and to decide all
questions which may arise in regard to the distribution of the
same among the legatees. If an Indian dying intestate leaves
no relative nearer than a cousin; his possessions revert to the
crown for the benefit of the band to which he belonged.

The management of Indian matters is vested in a special de-
partment of the civil service, at whose head is a member of the
government, holding, in addition to some other portfolio, that of
Superintendent-General of Indian Affairs. He occupies a seat in
Parliament, where now sit, on either side, two or three men who
in great part owe their election to the votes of the aborigines.
This minister is responsible to the assembly for his direction of
the department ; and he, of course, comes and goes with the ad-
ministration. His deputy and the subordinate officials are per-
manently appointed. The agents of the department are vested
with the powers of justices of the peace. They, and all other
employees, besides missionaries and teachers on reserves, are pre-

1891.] THE INDIAN LAWS OF CANADA. 65

eluded from trading with the Indians. Indeed, in so far as
Manitoba and the Territories are concerned, the law prohibits
any one from going on a reserve to barter or sell without a
special license in writing from the superintendent-general.

A great part of the act and its amendments is devoted to
safe-guarding the landed interests of the Indians. The lands re-
served for them are held in trust by the crown, and each tract
of land so set apart is called a reserve. No part or parcel
thereof can be sold, alienated, or leased without the consent of the
majority of the male members of the band owning the reserve
being first given at a council called for that purpose, in accord-
ance with the rules of the band, and held in the presence of the
superintendent-general or an officer duly delegated to take his
place. The fact of such consent having been given must be cer-
tified on oath by the officer who represented the department at
the council, and by one of the chiefs or principal men of the
band. Every surrender must be made to the crown and ac-
cepted by the governor in council. Lands so surrendered are
sold or leased, as the case may be, in the interest of the Indians.
Power is given the superintendent-general to lease, without a
surrender being made, for the benefit of widows, or children left
without guardians, sick, aged, or infirm Indians, or Indians en-
gaged in callings which necessitate their residing off their reserve,
the lands to which they are entitled. Though land owned by
private citizens or corporations may be expropriated for public
works, no portion of a reserve can be taken for any railway or
public work without the consent of the governor in council, and
when such consent is given, compensation must be made as in
the case of private individuals. Elaborate provision is made for
the prevention and punishment of trespass upon reserves.

A band may, with the approval of the superintendent-general,
allocate separate portions of a reserve to any or all of the dif-
ferent members, and when such allocations are made " location
tickets " are issued. The holding of such a ticket constitutes
lawful possession, but the land covered thereby is not transferable
to any one but an Indian of the same band as that to which
the holder of the ticket belongs. In the North-west the Indian
commissioner may give to an Indian a somewhat similar title to a
particular parcel of land in a reserve without any allocation
having been made by the band, but such title may be revoked
at any time. No Indian, however, can be removed, without com-
pensation being made him, from land on which he has improve-
ments ; and in the event of an Indian having made improvements

66 THE INDIAN LA ws OF CANADA. [Oct.,

on a plot of land which was afterwards included in a reserve, it
is provided that he shall have the same title thereto as that
given by a " location ticket."

The law empowers the government to invest the moneys de-
rived from land, timber, or other valuables belonging to the
Indians, and to direct what percentage thereof shall be set apart
to cover the cost of management, for the construction and main-
tenance of public works on reserves, and by way of contribution
to the schools of the Indians.

The most interesting part of the Indian Act if any part of
a statute can be called interesting is, perhaps, that which sets
forth a form of municipal government for reserves. The system
is very simple ; and the seventy-fifth section of the act author-
izes the governor in council to put it in force when and where
he deems the Indians sufficiently advanced to carry it out. Un-
der it the chiefs and councillors are to be elected for a term of
three years, subject to deposition at any time by the superin-
tendent-general for dishonesty, intemperance, immorality, or in-
competency. An election may be set aside if fraud or gross
irregularity is proved ; and any Indian found guilty of such
fraud or irregularity may be declared ineligible for election for
six years. The seventy-sixth section provides that the council
so constituted may make, subject to the approval of the gov-
ernor in council, and enforce, by fines and imprisonments, under
the "Act respecting summary proceedings before justices of the
peace," rules and regulations in respect to the public health ;
the observance of order at general assemblages; the repression
off intemperance and profligacy; the prevention of trespass by
cattle ; the establishment of pounds and protection of the flocks
and herds of the Indians ; the construction of water-courses,
roads, bridges, etc. ; the allocating of land and the registry of
the same; the construction and repair of school-houses and
other public buildings ; the attendance of children at school ; and
"as to what religious denomination the teacher of the school es-
tablished on the reserve shall belong to, provided always that he
shall be of the same denomination as the majority of the band,
and that the Protestant or Catholic minority may likewise have
a separate school, with the approval of and under regulations
made by the governor in council."

The educational policy of the government with respect to In-
dians to whom these sections have not been applied is in line
with the sub-section in regard to denominational schools which I
have quoted in full.

1891.] THE INDIAN LAWS OF CANADA. 67

A larger measure of municipal government is afforded by the
Indian Advancement Act,* which may be applied by the gov-
ernor in council to any band which is considered fit for its
operation. It enacts that the reserve in which it is in force
shall be divided into electoral districts ; that these districts shall
elect councillors whose term of office is one year ; that the
councillors so elected shall choose a chief councillor ; and that
the council so formed shall meet for the despatch of business
not more than twelve and not less than four times a year. The
Indian agent is to preside, regulate, and record the proceedings,
and report to the superintendent-general the by-laws passed, for
the submission by him to the governor in council for ap-
proval. The agent has no vote. The chief councillor votes as a
councillor and, in the case of a tie, gives the casting vote. The
council has, in addition to the powers conferred on ordinary
councils by the seventy-sixth section of the Indian Act, the right
to remove and punish trespassers on the reserve, and authority
to raise money, for any of the purposes for which it may make
by-laws, by assessments levied on the lands "held by Indians on
the reserve in fee simple or under location tickets. The coun-
cillors must be of good moral character ; for the law very ex-
plicitly decrees than any one of them "who is proved to be an
habitual drunkard, or to be living in immorality, or to have ac-
cepted a bribe, or to have been guilty of dishonesty or malfea-
sance in office of any kind, shall be disqualified from acting as
a member of the council." "Why," said Edward Blake, when
the act was before Parliament in 1884 "why should not this be
extended to the whites? . . . Why should we be more moral
with our Indian friends than with ourselves ? " But we have
gone even further than this. We have restricted the liberty of
the red man as to what he shall drink by ordaining that severe
penalties shall be inflicted on any one who gives or sells him
"intoxicating drink of any kind."

The "enfranchisement" clauses of the Indian Act apply
only to the older provinces, but they may by official proclama-
tion be applied to other parts of the Dominion. Under them
an Indian who has received a degree from a university or who
has been admitted to one of the learned professions, may, when
he wishes, cease to be an Indian in the eye of the law. He is
required to formally notify the department of his desire, and
upon his doing so a deed issues to him for his share of the re-
served land. If an Indian not so qualified desires to be enfran-

* Cap. 44, Revised Statutes of Canada, amended by cap. 30, 53 Vic.
VOL. LIV. 5

68 THE INDIAN LA ws OF CANADA. [Oct.,

chised he has to forward to the department, with his applica-
tion, an affidavit by a clergyman of the religious denomination
to which he belongs, or by a magistrate, to the effect that the
applicant has been, for at least five years, " of good moral
character, temperate in his or her habits, and of sufficient intel-
ligence to be qualified to hold land in fee simple and otherwise
to exercise all the rights and privileges of enfranchised persons."
This certificate is submitted to the band of which the applicant
is a member, and thirty days are allowed in which to show
cause why the request should not be granted. If the superin-
tendent-general decides to comply with the application, he lo-
cates the applicant as "a probationary Indian" for the portion
of the reserve to which he is entitled; and, after the expiration
of three years' probation, or such longer period as may be
deemed necessary, if the conduct of the Indian has been satis-
factory, letters-patent will issue, granting him in fee simple the
land for which he was located, but without power to alienate
the same before obtaining the consent of the governor in council.
Upon the issue of* such letters-patent to an Indian, he, and his
wife and family if he has any, take the position of ordinary
subjects before the law, though they continue in the right to
participate in the revenues and general councils of their band.
Only when a band at a council convened for the purpose de-
cides to allow every member to become enfranchised, is the capi-
tal fund of the community divided among the members ; and
even then no member is to receive his share until at least
three years after letters-patent have issued and he has proved
<*by his exemplary good conduct and management of property
. . . that he is qualified to receive his share of such moneys."

J. A. J. McKENNA.

Ottawa, Ont.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 69

THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID.

CHAPTER I.

IN a plain villa on Staten Island, one of New York's pret-
tiest suburbs, a physician had taken up his quarters. He was a
bachelor, and his widowed sister, Mrs. Delpole, kept house for
him. They were from the South, and among the many who
innocently suffered the ill-fortunes of the late civil war.

Dr. Champney was one of those wide-minded, large-hearted
men whose philanthropy was not in measure with his purse ; so
that it required a fiercer energy than he possessed to draw the
two ends of life together. He was a brave man, however, and
knowing that the greater portion of poor humanity must strug-
gle day by day, he put his shoulder to the wheel.

Agnes Delpole had in her youth married, against the prudent
counsels of her brother, a wealthy ne'er-do-well ; one of those
numerous flaneurs who haunt great cities, and who live and
die without having made a mark. So it was with Roger Delpole ;
at the end of a few years, not only had he spent his own patri-
mony, but had wasted also most of the savings of his good-
natured brother-in-law ; whereupon, seeing there was nothing left
to live on, he gracefully died, and along with his debts left his
widow and infant daughter as a legacy to Dr. Champney.

When our tale begins Bessie Delpole is a petite maiden
verging out of her teens, clever and ambitious. Longing to be
rid of her humdrum existence, too proud to associate with the
young people of the neighborhood, she is thrown on her own
resources for amusement. As she has a taste for colors, and for
music as well, her voice may be heard all over the house, and
the effects of her lavish paint-brush be seen in every room.

Thus occupation, if it did not make her contented with
her lot, kept her happy. For society she must make the most
of her mother and uncle, with a tri-annual visit from her god-
mother, Eliza Stone ; this latter a school teacher who spends
her holidays with her friends, and returns their hospitality by
teaching Bess.

Eliza and Agnes were schoolmates at the convent of the
Sacred Heart, and had never lost sight of each other since ;
indeed, in the old days there had existed a silent courtship be-

;o THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

tween Francis Champney and his sister's friend ; but with his
" legacy " his means had not increased, and so the courtship had
ended in sighs and brave resolves.

Perhaps the knowledge of what might have been made the
friendship of the little circle more close, and more full of living
sympathy than had there been no little romance nipped in the
bud.

Mrs. Delpole was one of those happy beings, blessed with a
sanguine temperament, who feel the. warmth of the sun even be-
hind the clouds ; and who, though not by any means impervious
to the stings of adversity, can bear the brunt of life cheer-
fully in fact, are true philosophers.

This lady's only extravagance was an inordinate love for
letter-writing, a taste she had acquired at school, where it had
been carried on surreptitiously as a fine art among the young
ladies of the different grades, until discovered and put a stop to
by the head mistress.

In the community room the confiscated correspondence had
afforded much amusement, and no doubt it was greatly owing
to Agnes Champney's masterly way of detailing school scandal
that she carried off the prize for style.

Among her ancient companions and present correspondents
there was a certain Lydia Hamen, an extremely wealthy woman
who had married an English cousin of the same name, and who
was now a childless widow in possession of a large income, a
large house in London, but a sufferer from poor health and de-
pressed spirits.

At the convent she went by the sobriquet of Lydia Lan-
guish, owing to her sentimental and unconventional tastes. .Al-
though for many years a resident of England, Mrs. Hamen had
kept up her interest in her native country and old friends, and
ever welcomed the brilliant, gossipy letters of Mrs. Delpole, who
albeit debarred by her straitened circumstances from mixing
in fashionable society, had the happy faculty of assimilating every-
thing she heard or read, to be afterwards made a digest of,
in a witty, ironical letter to her invalid friend.

Mrs. Delpole had often been remonstrated with by her
brother for what he termed her waste of energy.

" If, my dear sister," he would say, " I could only induce you
to turn your wonderful talent to account by writing for the
newspapers you so eagerly read, you might be a rich woman,
and Bess would not be for ever teasing me to take her out to
balls and parties."

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 71

" Well, you dear, good uncle, she sha'n't tease you any more.
But as for my earning sixpence with my pen why you know well
enough I always rebel at what I am obliged to do, and only
take real pleasure in doing useless things. There, go now ; there
is some one in the office. I wish you luck, and a rich patient."

" I fear it may be patience instead." And the good doctor
went off chuckling at his oft-repeated joke, leaving Mrs. Delpole
to prove herself willing to take pleasure in other beside useless
things, to judge by the deft way she brushed the doctor's coat
and wide-awake hat, and examined the seams of his dogskin
gloves.

But Agnes Delpole was right in the main when she asserted
her taste for the ornamental rather than useful in life ; she was
better fitted to be rich than poor. It pained her sensitive pride
to have to accept a visit from her neighbor, the wealthy brewer's
wife, and hear that lady go into ecstasies over her make-shifts.

" What a wonderful woman you are, Mrs. Delpole! You
never seem to need new carpets, as other people do. Isn't yon-
der hassock made from the centre-piece of the doctor's office
rug? I was in the shop when Bessie bought those pretty brass
nails to tack it on with. Really, I envy you your daughter, she
has such artistic instincts. My husband often wishes our Minnie
were like her. What a nice idea to paint the hearthstone to
imitate tiles ! Well, my Minnie can't do anything with her
hands but hook on her frocks ; and " pulling a long face and roll-
ing her eyes " it's well her pa' can afford to dress her, for other-
wise she'd die of what he calls ' henwee ' you know he went to
Paris last year ?" etc., etc ; till Mrs. Delpole's courtesy was near-
ly exhausted, and from the bottom of her heart she wished that
Dr. Champney were not dependent on Brewer Vatts' punctual
payments to keep the pot boiling.

Again, Mrs. Delpole was unfitted to face poverty by the gene-
rosity of her nature. To refuse an alms was always bitter, and
she would rather give the shoes off her feet than turn away from
a beggar. But what was gall and wormwood, what cut her to the
quick of her soul, was the knowledge that in having to support
her and her child Dr. Champney was doomed to perpetual celi-
bacy ; that, too, when Eliza Stone would have been the very
woman to his liking. Mrs. Delpole's one ambition, therefore,
was for the future of her daughter. Would something ever turn
up to save Bess from the moral degradation to which she was
obliged to submit ? This was Mrs. Delpole's prayer by day and
night, and the hope of it, as she watched her pretty bud expand-

72 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

ing, kept her cheerful and even-tempered, while it drove her to
her incessant correspondence, as if every letter she wrote were
an iron in the fire which eventually might shape itself into a
glowing destiny for Roger Delpole's daughter, cheated of her
birthright.

" Who can tell, Francis," she would say to her brother in
their evening talks, when Bess's blonde head lay dreaming above
them " who can tell but some one among my correspondents
may prove to be a fairy godmother, and give my Bess a lift in
the world ? You know I still keep it up hot and heavy with
old Major Firelocks, who took such a fancy to us down in Ja-
maica the winter poor Roger died. He always said he wanted
Bess to be Alan's wife if the children lived, and you know he
brought from India something heavier than a gouty liver."

"Well, Agnes," Dr. Champney would answer, quietly smiling
between the puffs of his pipe, " years and gray hair have not
cured your taste for romancing. Had you let me train Bess to
be a sick nurse, we could make her a useful member of society,
and in the end the ornamental part would take care of itself ;
as it is, I fear our bonny bird thinks too much of its plumage ;
or, we* could enter her at the Normal College and make a
teacher of her."

This was too much of a blow to Mrs. Delpole's ambition.
" A hospital nurse ! a public school teacher ! My Bess a poor
drudge whom no one thanks ! Thank you, Francis ; your ideas
for the future of your niece are certainly not lofty." And the
widow darned her brother's socks with vicious quickness.

Dr. Champney watched her -fingers, which for the moment
had lost the soothing dignity a gentlewoman always imparts to
the labor of her hands ; then he turned his rather sad gray eyes
to his sister's face as he slowly answered :

" I am not- alone in holding the opinion, Agnes, that nothing
by which we make ourselves of use to others can be a drudgery.
We should honor those who possess the ability to do that for
which we personally are not qualified. Indeed, the loftiest ideal
we poor mortals can strive after is the path of usefulness, and
in it let us walk, however disagreeable. Why you, my dear
sister, are ennobled by the life you lead, although you may find
it dreary enough ; for surely it is by the persistent and cheerful
doing of small duties that womankind make home ; and

" Come, my learned brother, if you are going to moralize, I
am best in bed ; for being both cross and sleepy, your wisdom
would be wasted. Good-night."

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 73

But before she left the room Agnes pressed a tender kiss
upon the doctor's brow ; for what did she not owe to his loving
care? And her conscience reproached her for harboring one
thought of discontent.

CHAPTER II.

The day following upon this conversation brought an event
which, although Mrs. Delpole had been sighing for it, been look-
ing forward to it for years in secret, yet when it came at last it
seemed as unexpected and unreal to her as to the rest of the
little family.

It came in the shape of a letter from London addressed to
her, but under cover to the business firm who took charge of
Mrs. Hamen's American property, the junior partner of which ac-
companied the letter with a card of his own, and was even then
seated in the modest little parlor awaiting the pleasure of Mrs.
Delpole.

Dr. Champney was eating his Sunday dinner surrounded by
the faces of those he loved best on earth for Eliza Stone had
crossed the bay to spend her midsummer holidays with her
friends, and she and Bess together had made the weekly pud-
ding when there came the eventful ring at the hall door.

" Please, ma'am, the gentleman is waiting in the parlor," said
the maid-of-all-work, her good-natured red face looking the red-
der for the garish hue of her Sunday apparel.

" Drawing-room, Margaret ! How often must I correct you ? "
Mrs. Delpole expostulated with dignity. " Why, brother, 'tis a
letter from Lydia, and sent by hand? What can it mean?"

Quick as a flash the widow's eyes scanned the note, for it
was too short to deserve another title, and then, to the conster-
nation of the assembled party, she gave a shriek, rose from
table, and flung herself face downward on the ricketty sofa de-
voted to the doctor's forty winks, where she lay for a moment
speechless.

Dr. Champney raised Mrs. Hamen's missive from the floor,
and at a glance mastered the contents ; then, drawing his chair
beside his sister, he- mechanically seized her wrist in a profes-
sional way and said :

" Do nothing rash, Agnes ; consider well before you act."

His voice brought Agnes to her feet.

" Bess, my darling ! my pride ! your fortune is made ; your
young life is to be bright and happy at last. My friend, your

74 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

mother's friend dear Lydia ! my friend in need, my friend in-
deed ! she is to adopt you, and leave you all her fortune. Do
you hear, Bess? You're to be rich, child!"

And Mrs. Delpole staggered to her daughter, whom she
clasped in her arms in an ecstasy of hysteric sobbing.

" O mummy dear ! you frighten me," was all Bess could
say.

"Agnes, compose yourself," said the doctor calmly; "you
have read too hastily, and you exaggerate in consequence."

"Perhaps it were as well I should read the letter aloud to
her, with your consent, Dr. Champney ? " And Miss Stone, in her
clear, precise voice, read the following :

" MY DEAR AGNES : As you know by my last letters, I have
qeen again very ill, and I believe the doctors think my case a
hopeless one.

" Perhaps, in view that my end is near, you will not begrudge
me the comfort of your child's society. If she have any of your
charming qualities, she will cheer my last days. Do, dearest
friend, let her come by the earliest opportunity.

" In anxious suspense, your fond LYDIA.

" P. S. I send you my business man, who will settle all ex-
penses."

" Dr. Champney is quite right, Agnes," continued Miss Stone
in a matter-of-fact way ; " there is no mention of fortune, or any-
thing of the kind. It may be harsh to say so, but Lydia seems
still to be the good-natured, selfish creature who imposed upon
us all at school."

" ' Aunt ' Liz, how cruel of you to blacken Mrs. Hamen's
character ! " broke in Bess, through whose active little brain vis-
ions of wealth and social triumphs were whirling, and who on
no account wished to be battened down under the prosaic pres-
ent longer than necessary.

" Eliza Stone, you are incorrigible, but I forgive you," said
Agnes in a semi-tragic way. "And to you, Francis Champney,
M.D., I make answer : I am not fanciful nor do I exaggerate.
Do you think that after a correspondence extending over half
a life-time we are not entitled to reading between the lines?"

" Not in business matters," interrupted the doctor, shaking his
head.

" On this very account," pursued the enthusiast unheedingly,
"as we grow older our letters grow more terse. Heart speaks
to heart ; brain to brain ! Bess ! hug your poor mother ; we are
so soon to part ! "

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 75

" Meanwhile the messenger awaits the answer," softly insinu-
ated the doctor ; " might it not be as well to invite him to a
cold bite?"

At this everybody laughed, for in truth Mr. Higgins, although
his card lay upon the cloth, had been most completely forgot-
ten. Dr. Champney, therefore, brought him out of his solitude
into the excited home circle, where he gave Bess quite a new
idea of junior partners ; Mr. Higgins being older than her un-
cle, with hair of old gold as a modern reporter would say
sprinkled with silver, and set in relief by some baldness.

He seemed a most inoffensive little man, with a soft voice
and a peculiar fashion of rubbing the palms of his hands down
the arms of his elbow-chair.

Upon being asked by Dr. Champney what his instructions
were he answered :

" I am to do the will of Mrs. Delpole ; to pay every bill she
may incur between this, day and the date on which I am to
deliver Miss Delpole " with a bow to Bess, who straightened
herself up with an air of new-born importance " into the charge
of our honored client, Mrs. Hamen. Therefore, I am not here
to give but to take instructions." And the little man half rose
from his seat and inclined his head first to one and then to
the other.

At this juncture, notwithstanding the warning glances of her
brother, Agnes Delpole was no longer to be repressed, and cut
short all discussion by assuring Mr. Higgins that, entertaining
the sisterly feelings she did for Mrs. Hamen, she would trust
her implicitly with her daughter ; moreover, she would not im-
pose more than was absolutely necessary upon Mrs. Hamen's purse,
nor upon Mr. Higgins's valuable time, and would have Miss
Delpole ready to sail for England by the Wednesday Cunarder.

After this speech, however, the mother broke down and fell
to weeping, whereupon Mr. Higgins discreetly took his depar-
ture, telling Dr. Champney he would secure the state-room as
desired, and leaving in the physician's unwilling hand a check
for one hundred dollars, as he expressed it,' to buy "some
trumpery for the young lady."

CHAPTER III.

The few days hours we might better say which Agnes and
her daughter had together were spent in packing the wardrobe
of " the heiress," and in buying a few articles not trumpery by
any means in which it was deficient.

76 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

Item : Shoes ; for Bessie had a pretty foot, and fancied no
English-made boot could show it to advantage.

The time, indeed, was all too short for the amount of counsel
and questions between mother and child, so that night as well
as day was spent in talking.

Sitting up in bed together, they studied Pictorial London until
they dropped asleep babbling over the glories of Rotten Row
and the parks ; Bessie later on to awaken with the nightmare,
having dreamed she was thrown from Mrs. Hamen's coach and
four, the leaders of which were pirouetting over her prostrate
form. This would remind the bed-fellows they had forgotten to
slide the ponderous volume to the floor, or perhaps warn them
it was time to rise for the labors of the day.

At last the fatal hour struck which was to bear Bessie
Delpole away from her simple home to the lap of luxury ; out
of the care of an idolizing mother to the arms of a childless
woman.

To the last Mrs. Delpole had no qualms at sending her
heart's treasure among strangers, so sure was she that the rich
Mrs. Hamen of London was the same " Lydia Languish " who
shared her candy with her at school, and in return borrowed
Agnes's ideas for the weekly compositions. Dear Lydia, dear
Lydia! she could not fail to love pretty Bessie. Strange, how
absence at times increases our regard for people from whom
years previously we parted -with indifference !

Dr. Champney was too discreet a man to battle with a head-
strong woman, and so when they reached the dock he put aside
the grave look he had worn since Sunday, and smiled encour-
agingly as he slipped a ten-dollar gold-piece into the hand of
his niece, with the advice to spend it wisely ; which " filthy
lucre " the " heiress," with a farewell kiss, pressed back into the
palm of her doting parent, whispering as she did so : " You need
so many things, mummy dear, and I am to be rich, you know ! "

The great steamship glides away from the pier, and for a
few moments thousands of eyes strain for a last glimpse of the
thousands receding ; a murmur of good-bys, which never reach
the ears for whom spoken, and the parting is over.

Bessie, on deck in her neat new suit of navy blue, waves her
tear-stained handkerchief unseen by her mother, who in an un-
nerved condition was being led from the wharf> borne up by
the strong arms of Dr. Champney and the faithful Eliza.

We will now for a while leave the bereft toilers in the strug-
gle for life, and watch the ascending star of the young suburban

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 77

maid so soon to rise on the richly studded firmament of Mrs.
Hamen's London household.

CHAPTER IV.

Sweet Bessie, with her large, liquid blue eyes, in a face
bright and fair as an Easter morning ; and hands so soft and
white and shapely, as if they had never known what it was to
stir a pudding or starch the family collars, looked every inch
the little aristocrat she intended to remain through life.

Mr. Higgins, who accompanies her to her new surroundings,
has made himself in nowise obnoxious to the young traveller;
indeed he has unwittingly given her her first lessons in the art of
commanding others by his assiduity in supplying her wants a.
lesson which, by an apt practice, Miss Delpole soon mastered to
perfection.

Bessie had read a few novels such as befitted her youth, of
course and as her mother had ceaselessly impressed upon her
that she was born eventually to shine, her imagination helped
her to fancy herself the heroine of a very real romance.

The junior member of the firm of Crosby, Fox & Co. was
therefore looked upon by Miss Delpole as the confidential agent,
bailiff perhaps, of the vast estates which were one day to be hers,
and treated accordingly.

It was, for instance : " Higgins, I think I'll take a turn on
deck ; give me your arm, please " ; or, " Higgins, I left my book
below ; please fetch it me " ; or again, " Higgins, wrap this rug
about my feet : thank you. I'll not trouble you any longer,
Higgins; I'll take a nap now."

And we must not think that this condescension on the part
of his client's young protegee was disagreeable to the old
bachelor for Higgins was unmarried, although Bessie never gave
it a thought on the contrary, he was quite as human as his
juniors in years ; and if he had grown sage with baldness, he
none the less appreciated the pleasant charge of caring for a
lovely morsel of budding womanhood.

Bessie followed her mother's advice, and made no acquain-
tances on board ship. She spoke to no one except the devoted
Higgins, and what time she did not spend in day-dreams, she
made use of to begin a journal, or, as she quaintly called it, a
Book of Confidences.

As we shall have to draw largely from its contents to gain
an insight into the future experiences of our heroine, we will in-

;S THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

troduce it at once, by an extract written the day the Servia
wended her stately way up the Mersey.

CHAPTER V.

Wednesday, July 16, 1888.

How very far away I feel from home, now that in less than
an houf I shall have set foot on British soil ! I have been too
excited to feel homesick. Thanks to my excitement, even the
chop seas of the Irish Channel did not upset me, and I have
crossed the Atlantic without paying tribute to Neptune.

2 P. M. My trunks are safely through the customs I
should say " boxes " ; mamma told me to be very English, you
know. Higgins seems to know everybody at least lots of men
shake hands with him ; but I'm not sure but that he gave some
of them money.

We are to spend the night in Liverpool, for which I am
sorry; I did so want to go straight on to London, and fling
myself on the bosom of my mother's friend, "Aunt Lydia"!
my fairy godmother, as I intend calling her. Oh ! how nice it
must be to be rich. I do believe it makes me feel good, too.
Ever since my destiny has been turned in this smooth channel
I have prayed with more devotion. Good heavens! to think I
sometimes envied that horrid dowdy, Minnie Vatts. Thank God!
I have given up envy and malice of every kind.

Thursday Evening, ijth July.

London ! really London at last ! But, dear me ! how am I to
begin writing my new experiences? I think I had better begin
at the end, and say it is ten o'clock at night, and I am sitting
in my dressing-gown double gown my dear Southern mummy
calls it made from a silk dress she wore before I was born !
To think how mamma and I worked at it my three last days
home ! I wonder if I'm not just a wee bit homesick, this first
night in London? But I shall get over it. Now to my story.

Higgins so arranged it that we drove up to the Fairy Palace
just one hour before dinner.

Having telegraphed from Liverpool, Mrs. Hamen's coach was
at the Euston Square Station to meet us. A footman, in liver-
color-and-gold livery, was on the .platform ready to take my
bag and wraps a most imposing creature ; and how he recog-
nized us is a puzzle, unless he and Higgins are Free Masons,
which would account for a good deal.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 79

Old Higgins offered me his arm to the carriage, and, as I felt
weak and overpowered, I graciously slipped my little gloved
fingers on to his coat-sleeve. I believe I'm going to hate Hig-
gins ; and yet he has been very kind. But ever since we landed
he has tried to be patronizing; and I don't intend to be patron-
ized by any one, much less this agent. Well, to go on.

Arrived at Portland Square to think that I am even now in-
diting these confidences in a Portland Square mansion! the
great hall-door was flung wide as the horses drew up, and a
double line of domestics stood in the hall to receive us. I was
bewildered. It felt like the coming of age of some great heiress!

how proud mummy would have been to see me! And
"Aunt Liz " ; but no, she would say it was the English custom.
Well, I like such customs. From the end of the row a nice-
faced young woman, with a French cap on her head, advanced
and said she would " conduct " me to my room. And with a
whispered "We will meet in the drawing-room, Miss Delpole,"
from my travelling companion, I followed the young woman up
the broad stairway just such an one as you read of in novels:
stained glass windows, etc. My room is charming. I can't tell
how it faces, as the curtains are drawn ; but I don't care much
for the sun, if I only look on the square.

I have a dressing-room besides ; and a cottage piano, on
which I intend to practise faithfully, being quite determined to
be ornamental ! Dobbs (Mrs. Hamen's maid is called by this
short, sensible name) unstrapped my " boxes " and got out my
dinner frock, the smartest of the three I own. She did up my
hair English style, and paid me the compliment of saying it was
a nice color and " luxurious " no doubt she meant luxuriant.
Then she showed me down to the drawing-room door, which a
page opened, and I stood in the august presence of my fairy
godmother !

For the first moment I only saw Higgins, who sat in an arm-
chair, drying his palms just as he did in the home dining-room
on the memorable day I first laid eyes on him.

He rose and came forward to meet me, and in quite a grand
way said : " Mrs. Hamen, allow me to introduce to you Miss
Delpole!"

There was a fire in the grate, and close up to it sat a lady

1 could scarcely believe was a schoolmate of my mother. She
looked twenty years older at least, although her hair was jet
black. I really think it must be dyed. Her face had a flabby
look about it, as if it once had been very fat and then suddenly

8o THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

got thin, leaving ripples of skin over it especially under the
eyes. I wonder was she ever good-looking! Then, O heavens!
she was low-necked. And such a neck ! long and stringy, with
great hollows at the collar-bone, which a triple necklace of
pearls and turquoises could not hide. Her dress was a combina-
tion of white lace and blue velvet. This was Mrs. Hamen, the
wealthy widow whom I proposed calling Aunt Lydia, or the
Fairy Godmother!

"How do you do, child? Why were you not called Agnes?
You're the image of your mother!"

These were the fairy's first words, and really they did not
seem as if they needed answering; but I managed to say polite-
ly enough : " Mamma sends you tenderest greeting, Mrs. Hamen,
and hopes you will find me a pleasant and useful little com-
panion."

At this moment a portly butler stood in the doorway and
bowed, to announce dinner I presume. Mr. Higgins, to my
great surprise, offered me his arm, and when I made a little
motion not to accept, he coolly took my hand and pressed it
into place, and then, nilly-willy, as they say, marched me into
the dining-room, whispering as we went along, which I thought
very impertinent, " I think you've made a good impression,
little woman ! " To think of his daring to say that ! I should
say dining-hall it is a real hall, not a room, with something
churchy about it. I heard a rumbling sound behind me, and
some kind of a grunting noise. I should so have liked to look
back ! but old Higgins kept squeezing my hand, which I knew
must mean something besides impertinence, and so I contained
my curiosity.

A round table had been laid for us in front of a huge log
fire. Fancy fires in July! but then this is London.

A man-servant pulled a seat out for me opposite the chim-
ney, and another on my right for Higgins. I must here remark
that I now put Mister to his name ; and he really looked most
respectable in his dress-suit and white necktie ; and besides,
plain Higgins would have sounded as if I were addressing a
servant, the butler being called Hurlbut, which of the two is
the much more aristocratic name.

I was wise enough not to sit down, and presently I saw my
fairy godmother being wheeled to the table in her chair! Then,
O horrors! Hurlbut and James the other lackey sat her up
straight, for she had toppled over to one side on the jour-
ney from the drawing-room. What a sight she was, to be

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 81

sure ! Thus I first discovered that her whole left side was
paralyzed.

I was greatly shocked, and wished that that horrid, stupid
Higgins had only told me, during our talks at sea, something
about Mrs. Hamen, for I now felt certain this was not his first
introduction to her. But then I never asked him to. How sly
of her not to have written mamma the nature of her disease !

There was very little said during dinner, as Mrs. Hamen
seemed absorbed in her eating; which, I noticed, was quite an
art to do neatly with but one hand.

Poor soul ! After all, wealth cannot give health ; and I feel
very sorry for her. As we went back to the drawing-room I
walked beside her chair and held her paralyzed arm, so that she
kept her upright position. I think she was grateful for the little
attention, as she said: " Thank you, dear! You must try and
love me."

The evening was not very long. Mrs. Hamen asked me to
sing, and I got off " Cleansing Fires " in a quite dramatic way.
But I think she would have preferred a plain ballad. Miss
Procter has put in her verses too much about "golden chains,"
" do not quail," "living pain," etc., which really, considering my
fairy godmother is dying by inches, could not be very inspirit-
ing. She thanked me, however, and said she would order some
new songs for me; and then she wished me "good-night." And
here I am writing all about it ! I wonder shall I hear to-
morrow any of those queer London street-cries? But, no; ple-
beian sounds cannot reach so aristocratic a quarter.

CHAPTER VI.

The next morning Bess opened her eyes with the feeling of
one who has had a very vivid dream ; which, as she raised her
head off the pillow and glanced about her, seemed still to be
weaving its imaginary woof, so unreal and strange were her sur-
roundings.

Instead of her plain little room, with its two dormer win-*
dows, at home, which she shared with her mother Mrs. Delpole
always spoke of it as the turret chamber she lay in a richly
furnished apartment in the heart of fashionable London.

A few tears of satisfied ambition mingled with sadness as she
thought how lonely "dear mummy" must be without her, and
our heroine, fully awake to the realities of life, sprang out of
bed in a quiver of excitement.

82 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

At this instant Dobbs issued from the dressing-room, and
saying Miss Delpole's bath was prepared, and she would return
in a quarter of an hour to dress her, glided across the room
and out of it before Bess got over her surprise.

Was she to have a maid to herself?

How delicious ! No more mending ; no more sewing on of
buttons ; no ruffles or furbelows to be altered. Really Mrs.
Hamen was a fairy godmother indeed !

Toying still with this unexpected sensation of being mistress
of all she surveyed, Bess spread herself out in an easy-chair,
where, on her return, Dobbs found her awaiting her ministrations.

First one tiny foot was poked out to be covered, and then
the other. Like a jointed doll, Bess let her clothing be put on
her, hooks and buckles, and straps and strings, without moving
a muscle of her fingers.

Before the dressing-table she sat whilst the tire-woman
combed her hair ; her eyes staring at her image in the mirror
critically, curiously, half-wondering if such happiness could be
true, and not a cheat and delusion of her fancy.

By nine o'clock she was ready to begin the day. Dobbs
handed her a handkerchief freshly sprinkled with Cologne water
and opened the door.

With slow dignity, feeling the weight of " heirship " resting
upon her shoulders, Miss Delpole descended step by step the
baronial stairway ; and again the dapper page noiselessly drew
aside a portiere ushering the young lady into a breakfast-room.
Here Mr. Higgins sat reading the morning paper, evidently
awaiting the appearance of his whilom travelling companion to
attack the meal.

" Good-morning, Miss Bess ; I hope you have passed a good
night ? "

" Thank you, Mr. Higgins," responded Bess, imitating the
English accent to perfection, and giving a side-glance of indig-
nation at " the agent " for presuming to address her by a nick-
name.

" I regret our pleasant companionship must so soon come to
an end," continued Higgins, taking no notice of Bess's little
scowl, except to smile discreetly behind his napkin. " I return
to New York by the Saturday steamer, and leave London this
forenoon. If you have any messages for home I shall be most
happy to deliver them."

"You are very kind, Mr. Higgins; but you need not trouble
yourself, as I shall write to mamma by the same mail."

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 83

Truth to say our heroine was not at all anxious "the agent"
should again get a view of her humble belongings, which would
form too great a contrast to the present ease. Higgins's latest
remembrance of her must be as Miss Delpole, of aristocratic
lineage and presumed heiress to Mrs. Hamen's wealth.

Therefore she bade him a cold good-by, with a few not over-
gracious words of thanks for his care of her on the journey.

An hour later Higgins left Portland Square in a cab, and
Bessie saw no more of him until he turned up before the year
was out under very* trying circumstances.

With the departure of the junior member of the firm of
Crosby, Fox & Co. Miss Delpole felt herself fairly launched in
the new sphere for which she felt herself eminently fitted.
Consequently no sooner was she alone than she began a survey
of her domain.

Through the drawing-rooms, dining-hall, and picture gallery
she wandered, wrapped in admiration of what she saw, and more
than ever contented with the good fortune which, without effort
of her own, had fallen to her lot.

One transient thought she gave to her dear mamma's " waste
of energy," as Dr. Champney characterized her letter-writing,
and Bessie made a mental note : " Untold wealth the price of a
few stamps ; ergo, correspond largely."

CHAPTER VII.

It was midday when our heroine sat down to toast her
pretty feet in front of the fire in her fairy godmother's drawing-
room ; but scarcely had she made herself comfortable for a deli-
cious contemplation of the situation when Dobbs appeared, and
in the soft, low voice of a well-bred servant expressed to Miss
Delpple Mrs. Hamen's desire that she should present herself to
that lady. With nonchalant alacrity Bessie motioned the maid to
precede her, and presently she found herself in an exquisitely
furnished sitting-room, on the first floor and not far from her
own apartment.

There in an arm-chair, the counterpart of the one she had
occupied the previous evening, sat Lydia Hamen, her jet-black
hair in two puffs on either side of her flabby face and attired in
a coquettish morning-gown of baby-blue.

Bess felt a horrible inclination to smile, but composed her
VOL. LIV. 6

84 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Oct.,

features to a pleasant greeting as she pressed a light kiss on the
powdered brow of " the fairy."

"Dear Mrs. Hamen, what can I do to please you?" she
asked in her fresh, girlish tones.

"Never wear blue, child, while with me; it is my color";
was the astounding answer.

Bessie looked down on her own pretty costume, which was a
charming mingling of blue and white, and she thought with in-
dignation of having in future to deny herself the pleasure of
wearing it. Moreover her small wardrobe was, if anything, too
abundant in this becoming color. If she discarded her toilettes,
would "the fairy" provide others? This was an item on which
Mrs. Delpole had not calculated when purchasing her daughter's
outfit.

"You can wear pink or green or red, or any combination
purple, too, if you like ; but in my house I alone wear blue."
And Lydia Hamen lay back on her cushions blinking her creased
eyelids at the pretty young girl beside her.

Bess with a petulant blush asked if it were Mrs. Hamen's
wish she should change her dress.

"As I shall not be down to luncheon it does not matter
for the present. But you'll not forget." And the invalid
screwed her goggle eyes round to where Bessie stood, edging
behind the chair to hide the expression of her disappointment.

" Thank you. Is there anything I can do for you now, Mrs.
Hamen?" asked Bess, with the least tremor in her voice.

"Yes; you may verify Mr. Higgins's account. I gave orders
for so much money to be spent on bringing you here ; but there
are items I don't understand. Just go over it aloud, and I'll
stop you at the points."

And so poor Bess had to undergo the unspeakable humilia-
tion of reading over the expenditures of the rich woman, in sat-
isfying her whim of bringing young life into her half-dead exist-
ence.

The first item was the hundred dollars advanced to Mrs. Del-
pole, and thus entered : " To buy necessaries for girl, $100."
Bess could have cried with mortification.

"Well, what did you do with the money?"

Miss Delpole tried to excuse herself from answering, under
the plea of the too numerous items ; but the fairy godmother
insisted upon her right to know. And to Bess's confusion, her
racked brain could only remember the most trivial articles, which
made it seem as if the large sum had been wasted.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 85

To add to her discomfiture, every little luxury she had
allowed herself during the journey had been scrupulously jotted
down by "the agent," until our heroine was made to appear as
if she had lived off lemonade and appolinaris water.

After an hour of this worry Bess was told to read from a
French novel which lay beside her. Now, as the poor child's
accent was anything but Parisian, and as she understood not
half of what she read, neither she nor Mrs. Hamen enjoyed the
performance, and were mutually pleased when Hurlbut advanced
into the apartment bearing a tray of summer delicacies for his
mistress.

" Serve Miss Delpole in the breakfast-room, Hurlbut," said
the invalid ; then turning to Bess : " You may go now, child.
Your accent is horrible ! It is a perfect torture to listen to you.
If you can't improve, I shall have to make a change." And not
heeding Bessie's murmured excuses Mrs. Hamen fell to over the
strawberries and cream, and dakity cakes, as if her main stay was
to eat.

STANISLAUS MONK.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

86 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY.- [Oct.,

THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY.

OBSCURITY is a characteristic of the mediaeval history o*T dl
European nations, caused by a constant state of varying invasions,,
of devastating wars, conflicts between different rases, the bar&a-
ric rudeness of northern invaders, and 1 the concise simplicity of con-
temporaneous chroniclers. Hence, the getting at troe facts whicki
occurred in that period is surrounded! with great difficulties, and!
historical criticism finds only scanty and contradictory data to
investigate and pass upon. This arises- in the very beginning of
the history of Spain, whei^ for eight centuries an unparalleled
warfare was kept up between two populations opposes! to each
Other in religion, nationality, customs^ and social airdi political
iregime. From 414, in whicli year Spaaini was invadfed by the
Jmsts of the Visigoth general! Ataulphus,, diown to 1085,. when Al-
p-toonso VI. regained the imperial city o Toledo, Spanish history
:is 'enveloped in frequent darkness which has been handed down,
from One to the other, through the pages of all historians. The
early or, to speak more accurately, the rniididle part of tMs period
of six centuries includes the deration of the Visigoth saonarchy,
which came to an end by the defeat, at the battle of Gmadalete,
of Don Rodrigo ; the latter part comprises the formation of
small Christian states, which im the twelfth century had grown
to solid monarchies and had become masre powerful tJban the
Arab states, hemmed in in the southern! parts of the Peninsula,
which, losing steadily their importance, siaccumbed in tfe fifteenth
century to the power of Ferdhraind aoad Isabella, who ciauld then
fairly entitle themselves the true monairehs of Spain. The sub-
ject of this essay lies between both periods ; that is; to say, be-
tween the downfall of the Visigoth monarchy and the beginning
of that national heroic era known as the Reconqiusk of Spain.
All the obscurities of either period become, as it were,, condensed
in one point of time, the upheaved and calamitous eighth cen-
tury, in which the threads of history became lost,, and were
gathered up later, as best they could, by Christian and Arab au-
thors, and by them used to weave the fabrics of their respective
chronicles.

The Christian writings are sincere, reliable, and of value ; but
so laconic, so concise, so full of breaks, that many facts are not

1891.] THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 87

brought out to light ; while, on the other hand, the Arabic,
generally full as to matter and going even into details, give evi-
dence of the fantastical and story-loving character of ardent
oriental imaginations. Nevertheless, the history of those times
may be learned from the narratives above named, if later ac-
counts are laid aside in which historians, more elegant than
accurate, have brought in pompous descriptions and episodes,
which complicate and render difficult the labor of criticism. For-
tunately as soon as studious men, competent critics, have set
to work to find the truth in these fountains of early history,
and with patient industry have studied both Christian and Ara-
bic chronicles, and have carefully compared the information
afforded by either, historic truth begins to detach itself from the
enveloping shade of fable, and true accounts, thus successfully
obtained, can be reconstructed upon the ruins of novelizing nar-
ratives which, given forth by serious and methodical writers, have
won belief. Our task would, indeed, be a long one had we
to begin relating here these emendations which have caused the
aspect of our national history to be changed in many parts ; but
as our present object lies within narrower limits, we shall take
up only one of the most important, in which is to be found the
key of many mysteries that up to the present time has escaped
the attention of writers of history. We refer to the alleged
cause of the Mohammedan invasion, attributed in the present day
to a father's vengeance sought by Don Julian, governor of Ceuta,
against the Gothic king, Don Rodrigo, for having injured him
by dishonoring his daughter Florinda, more commonly called La
Caba. We shall see how the fable arose, and we shall next take
up an account of the events which prepared the way for the
Moslem invasion, of the circumstances which contributed to its
success, and of the obstacles which, at a later period, the work
of national reconquest found in its way.

II.

About the close of the eighth century the Egyptian Abder-
rahman ben Abdelhaquem composed for the Saracens a history
of the conquest of Africa and Spain, comprising in it all the
tales and matter which he had gathered from the Arabs whpm
he met as he went along in his travels, without ever examining
into their accuracy, and aiming always to take up preferably
what was fantastic and marvellous.* Following this legendary

* John Harris Jones translated into English as much of the work as related to Spain, and
published it at Gottingen, in 1858.

88 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Oct.,

method, he happened to be told that there was in olden time,
in Toledo, a deserted palace on the door of which every Visigoth
king in turn placed a bolt so as to render it more and more im-
penetrable. It seems that Don Rodrigo, badly advised and
through caprice, not only withheld adding on his bolt, but chose
to remove those put on by his predecessors, in order to pene-
trate into the mysterious dwelling. Having done this he saw on
the walls of its halls paintings representing Arabs, and an
inscription which read : " When the bolts on this Alcazar will
have been drawn, the nations here portrayed will take possession
of the territory of Spain." This fantastic narrative of the Egyp-
tian chronicler is paralleled by another, about as true, according
to which Don Julian, Count of Ceuta, through resentment against
Don Rodrigo for having seduced his daughter Florinda, made
friendship with Taric, an Arab commander in Africa, and in his
blind desire for revenge not only opened to him the gates of
the defences of Spain, but, moreover, gave him his other two
daughters to be held as hostages ; a queer way of repairing the
injury which he conceived to have been done him in the capi-
tal of the kingdom. The Egyptian historian, not stopping at
difficulties, inserted these two fables in his work, not foreseeing
that in process of time they would become undoubted.

In the beginning of the tenth century the renowned Ahmed
Arrari, called by the Arabs El Cronista, a man of an inquisitive
and investigating turn of mind, wrote a history of Spain in
which he gave an account of its territory, rivers, and mountains,
and related all the circumstances of the conquest, going into
many details and indications which attest his industry and solici-
tude to discover the truth. Nevertheless he makes no mention
of the enchanted palace, nor of the offence of Don Rodrigo, nor
of the vengeance of Don Julian. But his son Ysa, to whom
Spaniards have given the name of " El Moro Rasis" undertook to
retouch and make additions to his father's work, and, having
no better source of information than the narrative of the
Egyptian Abdelhaquem, he borrowed from it, passing his plagiar-
isms as original and embellishing them with gorgeous descriptions
and a more lively coloring.*

The historian, Ebn Acotiya, which signifies " the son of the
Gothic woman," who died at the close of the tenth century,
being descended from Olmundo, eldest son of Witiza, naturally

* Ahmed Arrari's work, with additions made to it by his son, has been translated into
Spanish several times, the latest having been made in 1312. It is known under the title The
History of the Moor Rasis.

1891.] THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 89

made glad use of the Florinda fable, of rabbinical invention, be-
cause it served to explain and give an honest appearance to the
treason of his ancestor, who, for his complicity in the invasion,
received from the Arab invaders over one thousand estates t and
villages, which enriched his descendants.

A few years later, Ebn Adzari, of Morocco, inserted the
legend in his history of Africa and Spain (Bay an almogriU).
Twenty years later the anonymous author of La Coleccion de
Tradiciones (Ajbar macJimua) published it therein as authentic
and uncontradicted. Finally, the Egyptian Abdelhaquem's story,
to which currency had been given by so many pens, completed
its course six centuries later in the book written by Almacarri,
a native of Barbary, in which the valiant Taric is represented
asleep in his flag-ship while crossing the straits to Spain, and
the false prophet and the four first caliphs appearing and pre-
dicting to him unprecedented renown ; and as soon as he sets
foot on the shores of Andalusia a little crone, wife of a fortune-
teller, calls out to him "to be cautious and to learn that the
man called to enslave Spain will have a big head and a bristly
mole on his left shoulder-blade." *

The rabbinical tale does not appear in the brief Latin-
Hispano chronicles until the end of the eleventh century, because
our chronicles, although wanting in pleasant strain of language,
proved in preceding ages truthful and accurate and repelled
fables likely to throw discredit on their narratives. Monje di
Silos was the first to give it place in his brief chronicle, and,
in order to make it tally with correct chronology, had to make
Don Rodrigo's reign last three years, whereas' he held the scep-
tre only six or seven months.

The question naturally arises, Where did the inquiring Monje
of Silos pick up this legend ? Nothing could be easier if we
consider that from the close of the ninth century Moslems and
Spanish Arabs set about writing histories which were read alike
in Mohammedan and Christian districts, and by their fables and
legends made turbid the clear stream of Hispano-Latin writers.
" Relying on the authority of the writer from Silos," says Seflor
Fernandez Guerra, " our chroniclers and historians found no diffi-
culty in accepting the fable in question. In 1243 Don Rodrigo
Jimenez de Rada, Archbishop of Toledo, gave it a new promi-
nence in severe and elegant language ; after him King Alphonso

* Almaccari, vol. i. pp. 160, 174. In regard to this matter we have followed and more
than once used the text itself of a work, by the illustrious historian and critic Senor Fer-
nandez Guerra, entitled Don Rodrigo y La Caba, published in Madrid, 1877.

90 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Oct.,

X., surnamed El Sabio (the Wise; 1221-1284), followed in his
wake, and finally Father Juan de Mariana (1536-1623), the
Spanish Livy, incorporated it in his history and enhanced it
with, most novel and clever adornments.*

During the two last centuries Spanish and foreign historians
have followed Father Mariana, so that the fable about Don
Rodrigo and La Caba has been believed without question and
has escaped criticism until the present day. Previously, how-
ever, the judicious Caesar Cantu, in his Universal History, had
prescinded it, and in a foot-note he calls it a tradition " proba-
bly of Arabic origin, subsequently kept alive in the romances."
The learned academician Fernandez Guerra has devoted many
laborious hours, day and night, to the study of the epoch in
question, and in the short work from which we have already
quoted he has completely brought to light the origin and vicis-
situdes of the Moslem legend. We therefore dismiss the subject,
having dwelt upon it as much as was needed for our present
purpose, and now proceed to set forth the historically established
facts which prepared and brought about the fall of the Visigoth
monarchy in Spain and the Arab invasion and dominion.

III.

In order to form a clear idea of the causes which prepared
the fall of the Visigoth monarchy, it is necessary to consider
attentively the elements which combined towards forming that
monarchy in which, from its very origin, germs of decomposition
had begun to work which were destined to bring about in time
its destruction. Spanish historians comprise in the line of Visi-
goth kings the names of the sixteen Visigoth generals who suc-
cessively, from Ataulphus down to Leovigildo (414-572), ruled
over Spain as the lieutenants of the Roman and Byzantine em-
perors. But in truth the only one of them that can be consid-
ered as the real king of Spain is Leovigildo. He put an end
to the Suevian dominion, kept the imperialists in check who had
taken possession of many places on the Mediterranean coast,
subdued the Cantabrians and Basques, and reduced to obedience
the Gothic magnates, ever inclined to rebellion and disturbance.
He was the first Gothic king that coined money stamped with
his image and name, and he surrounded his throne with all the at-
tributes of sovereignty. Nevertheless, the contest between Arians
and Catholics, which gave rise to a deep antagonism between the
Hispano-Latin and the Gothic populations, reached, during his

* See p. 29 of his history.

1 89 1 .] THE JE ws IN EARL Y SPANISH HISTOR Y. 9 1

reign, a very destructive extent. His eldest son, Hermenegildo,
having become converted to Catholicism, and he having taken
as . his second wife a bitter Arian, domestic dissensions arose,
which spreading, as might have been expected, outside of the
realm, were the cause of civil wars inflicting profound wounds
on the country, and these were besides made worse by the bad
humors, as it were, which were destroying the health and life of
the monarchy. The Franks and the Byzantines gave aid to the
Catholics, while the Jews, an astute race, who lived in the land
of their adoption without becoming attached to it, favored the
Arians out of hatred to the Catholics and because of their hopes
to obtain greater measures of favor from the party in power.

In this way an implacable contention, fated to bring days of
mourning on Spain, began to take shape. In vain did succeed-
ing kings and the councils of Toledo endeavor to remedy it by
the enactment of thoughtful and wise laws.

The conversion of Ricaredo was the means of saving the
monarchy, threatened with imminent ruin. It led to the infusion
into it of new governmental vigor ; it accomplished the union of
Roman and Gothic subjects, by bringing both into the fold of
the church ; it promoted the general welfare through the estab-
lishment of judicious and just legislation ; and it introduced the
clergy into the political constitution as a new power, destined to
regenerate customs and institutions ; * an element of disturbance
having deep root in the old constitution of the Gothic monarchy
remained, nevertheless, in the state. Several kings, and Leovi-
gildo most of all, tried in vain to eliminate it by gentle measures,
for he was sorrowed by the ambition and the individualism of
the Teutonic races. We refer to the elective feature in the
monarchy, which kept alive the ambitions of the magnates, and
gave rise at every election to wars and discords, fermented by
religious dissensions and Jewish' intrigues. This explains why the
memorable reigns of Ricaredo, Liuva II., Sisebuto, Suintila, Chis-
dasvinto, Recesvinta, and Wamba, which elevated to a great
height the power and prestige of the Visigoth monarchy, suc-
ceeded to one another amidst rebellions and wars, which were
fortunately put an end to. On one side the clergy and people
joined hands to give strength to the monarchy, while on the
other the Gothic nobility and the Jews also united to put limi-
tations on its powers, and thereby rid themselves of laws which
repressed their excesses.

This enduring strife kept on sapping the foundations of the

* History of Spain. By Don F. Sanchez Casado, p. 99.

92 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Oct.,

state until in the time of Ervigio (680-687) it had effected a con-
dition of complete decadence. During his short reign all the
work accomplished by his predecessors was undone, all the ele-
ments of disintegration went on increasing, until they availed to
prepare a turbulent reign for Egica, a sad fate for Witiza, and
in the short and disastrous rule of Don Rodrigo to complete
the fall of the monarchy. In this condition of breaking up of
the kingdom there needed, so to speak, only the proper spark
to start a fire and bring on a general conflagration burning
everything to ashes. This spark, first examining into its origin
and developments, we are now going to look up and name.

IV.

The origin of the Jewish population of Spain has long served
as material for sharp controversy and lengthened study. The
following causative facts, accepted as true by some historians,
have not stood the test of severe criticism and have been re-
jected : viz., trading expeditions of Israelites to the Spanish Thar-
sis ; the dominion of Solomon in the Peninsula, and the es-
tablishment therein by him of his intendants and treasurers ; the
coming of King Nabuco, and the settlement by him in the
central territories of Hebrews whom he brought from Judaea, or
was suffered to bring for that purpose by King Hispan.* This
other hypothesis must then be allowed to be strongly probable :
that the Hebrews, being neighbors and of kindred stock with
the Syrians, Tyrians, and Phoenicians, and being stimulated by
the example of these nations, who in very remote times began
the establishment of active commerce with the Iberian popu-
lations of the Mediterranean coasts, undertook the venture of
visiting our shore at a time when their inhabitants were pros-
perous and rich. Delighted with the fertility and fatness of our
soil, they founded upon it factories, which increasing in course of
time, and through prosperous progress, brought about a nu-
merous Hebrew population in the Peninsula, particularly on the
eastern and southern coasts. . When, later on, the destruction of
Jerusalem and its territory was consummated (74), and the dis-
persion of the Jews into foreign countries took place by order
of Hadrian (138), many of them must have taken refuge in
Spain, where their compatriot pioneers in emigration had met
such a happy welcome. Their numbers subsequently became so
great that when the Iberian Council was held, in the beginning

* History, Social, Political, and Religious, of the Jews of Spain and Portugal. By Ama-
dor de los Rios. Vol. i. chap. i. p. 62, edition of 1875.

1891.] THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 93

of the fourth century, we find that the fathers of that celebrated
assembly viewed with just alarm the increase of the Hebrew
population as likely to dangerously affect Catholic belief, at that
time vigorous and preponderant in Spain. Canon xvi. of that
council,* which has been judged according to very different cri-
terions, forbade marriage between Catholics and Jews ; cohabita-
tion of Christians with Jewesses or heathen women ; cleric or lay
people of the Christian faith who sat at meat with Jews or
heathens were threatened with excommunication ; all this was
decreed in order to raise a separating barrier between the faith-
ful and unbelievers, and to prevent the Christians from being
contaminated by Jewish depravity. Moreover, a writer so lit-
tle deserving of being suspected of anti-Semitic aversion as
Seflor Amador de los Rios declares that the " proceedings in
this respect of the Iberian Council were perhaps not complain-
ed of as reprehensible on the ground of a spirit of intole-
rance, "f

The facts above stated constitute abundant evidence that, in
the first years of the fourth century, the Jewish race was a germ
of disturbance and disorder which alarmed the most thoughtful
and wise leading men of Spain of that day. Their fears went
to the extent of moving them to decree measures in opposition
to the growth of Jewish influence which naturally were promo-
tive of antagonism between the Christians and the Jewish in-
habitants.^: Nevertheless, despite these protective enactments, the
condition of the Jews, subsequently to the Iberian Council,
could not have been so deplorable, since new Jewish families,
availing themselves of the opportunities offered by the invasions
of the barbarians of the north, penetrated into Spain in search
of that secure refuge which they had sought for in vain in
islands and continents elsewhere.

Did the Jews favor the Visigoth invasion ? There are
grounds for suspecting as much.

Besides, on the one hand, the dislike which arose against
them by the Hispano-Latin population after the Council of
Hiberis, and their inclination ever to get in with the strongest
and most powerful, there was the additional motive for them
to side with the invaders that these last were heretics, and on

* Collectio Conciliorum Hispanice, by Cardinal Aguirre, in 1693, p. i.

t See page 73 of work referred to.

\ Lafuente-Alcantara, in his History of Granada, lays great stress on the talents and virtues
of the reverend fathers comprising the Council of Hiberis, which included the renowned
Osio of Cordova and Valerio of Saragossa.

Apotheosis, by Prudencio.

94 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Oct.,

that account indifferent, indeed hostile, to Catholic interests and
to the enforcement of the canons then the law in Spain. *

Moreover, on the other hand, the fact is clearly proven by the
emphatic protection accorded to the Jewish population by the
Visigoth invaders after the latter had established themselves
in Spain. It will suffice to say that, while marriages between
Hispano-Latin and Goths were forbidden, Jews were allowed to
marry Catholic women, even to keep them as concubines and
buy them as slaves.

Under favor of such protection, it is not matter for wonder
that the Hebrew race multiplied its numbers, clambered up to
the highest posts in the government, accumulated immense
riches, and succeeded in exercising a powerful influence on the
destinies of the Peninsula.

Terrible and bloody were the struggles kept up in Spain be-
tween Arians and Catholics, which even ultimately reached the
point, during the reign of Leovigildo, of embruing the throne in
the blood of St. Hermenegildo, put to death by decree of his
father. 'These intestine wars would soon have brought the king-
dom to utter ruin had it not been for the opportune conversion
of Ricaredo ; and, while they were raging, the Jews played a
very important part therein, cautiously keeping alive the fire of
discord, and always taking side with the Arians against the
Catholics, objects of their implacable rancor.

The acts of the councils of Toledo and the statutes of the
Fuero Tuzgo (Charter of Tuzgo) were evidently framed in con-
sideration of the facts above stated, and, furthermore, it is de-
serving of mention that in these precious documents the benign-
ity of the Catholic Church towards these irreconcilable enemies
of the Christian name stands displayed, for, while recommending
vigorous measures against Jewish depravity, violent proceedings,
committed through intemperate zeal by certain monarchs, were
resolutely condemned.

If during four centuries of ferocious warfare,f when the
archives and the Visigoth churches were reduced to ashes, the
precious records and documents stored in them had not also
been destroyed, leaving the events of that period enveloped in
obscurity, it is certain that abundant evidence would now be
extant to reveal the complicity of the Jews in the persecutions
undergone by the Catholics from the Arians ; persecutions bloody
and terrible, stirred up by a hidden and inexorable hatred, burst-
ing forth when least expected, and seeming insatiable of blood-

* Amador's work referred to, p. 79. f Ebn Hayyan (1077), in Almaccari, vol. i. p. 174.

1891.] THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 95

shed and ruin. The conversion of Ricaredo to Catholicism
proved, indeed, a great impediment to Jewish action. By this
event, which, according to Amador de los Rios, represented the
triumph of civilization over barbarism, * the persecuted Hispano-
Latin race, truly learned, virtuous, and attached to its native
land, was rehabilitated. Accordingly, in the third Council of
Toledo, at which Ricaredo's abjuration of Arianism and his pro-
fession of Catholicism publicly took place, the fathers, alarmed
at the preponderance attained by the Jews under favor of Arian
heresy, and relying on the salutary example set by the venerable
Synod of Hiberis, resolved to set limits and put restraint on the
growing audacity of the Israelites. By canons, in the drawing
up of which the renowned St. Leander took part, the legislative
measures of the Council of Elvira were re-enacted with fresh
vigor in order to attain a like end, that of keeping the
Hispano-Latin race free from all contact with its Hebrew
haters.

Our conception of the drift of this paper does not allow us
to here enter into and comment upon the canons of the Third
Council of Toledo, to which reference has been made. But we
shall not miss the opportunity to assert here that no impartial
historian can find in them evidence of blind hatred or systematic
antipathy on the part of the fathers towards the Jews, but
merely a spirit of defence against their aggressions and a desire
to afford protection to the faithful believers against the hostility
of their foes. Not the inspiration of blind intolerance, but that
of the sacred right of legitimate defence, inspired the drawing up
of those canons, as is shown by the following citation from canon
xiv. : " Jews are not to be allowed to fill any public office afford-
ing them opportunity to inflict punishment on Catholics." This
did not mean that they were thereby absolutely prohibited from
discharging any public functions at all, but, exceptionally, those
only in which they would be invested with authority to inflict
punishment on Christians. Could the benignity of the fathers
of the third Council of Toledo have gone further? Which is
apparent in the above enactment, a hostile spirit toward the
Jews or one of mere defence of the Catholics against possible
aggressions of the former? The fathers of the Council of
Toledo showed themselves undeniably benign to the Jews, and
if they formulated repressive enactments in their regard, their
sole object was to repress their abuses, restrain their violences
and shield and protect their Catholic flock, which for more than

* Work referred to, p. 80.

96 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. Oct.,

a century had lived down-trodden in bitter serfdom to both
Arians and Jews.

But the moderate spirit of the decrees of the Third Council
was not appreciated by these implacable enemies of their Chris-
tian fellow-subjects, and, if they bowed their necks in submission
to the new provisions of law applying to themselves, they man-
aged, as soon as these had been promulgated, to evade, by per-
sistent cunning, their enforcement ; meanwhile putting off until
more favorable time the work of repeal or of revenge.*

Such was the situation at the opening of the new historical
epoch which we are about to sketch, one of great events and
dark conspiracies. We shall go on studying it by the light of
sound criticism in order to lay bare, if possible, the real facts,
up to now overlaid with fables and legends, about the ruin of
Spain under the rule of Don Rodrigo and the sudden and rapid
conquest of the Peninsula by the followers of Mohammed.

Madrid.

MANUEL PEREZ VILLAMIL,
Member of the Royal Historical Academy.

* Amador de los Rios' book, p. 84.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

1891.] LITTLE PETTUS. 97

LITTLE PETTUS.

IT was in the January of 1865 that Little Pettus, aged four-
teen, persuaded his mother to give her consent to his entering
the army. He was called Little Pettus to distinguish him from
his two brothers older than himself, who were known as the
Pettus boys ; one of whom had lost his life at Manasses, the
other and the father theirs at Gettysburg. Still the name hung
on to him and he remained Little Pettus.

" A little un is better than no un " insisted Little Pettus,
when his mother protested that he was too small to be of any
use in the army.

His sister Margaret quite agreed with him, and the mother,
yielding to their joint petition, set to work to rip apart a wool-
len underskirt to make a jacket and pair of trowsers for the boy.

Three days after, having received his mother's blessing, and
cherishing the blessed medal of Mary she had hung about his
neck, Little Pettus sobbed out his farewell to mother and sister,
and home.

" Well, my boy, what is it you want ? " asked the colonel of
the remnant of a regiment in the remnant of an army way off
in Virginia.

" I come from Louisiana," said Little Pettus.

" You are looking for your father or some of your kin ? "
further queried the colonel.

" No, I ain't," returned Little Pettus stoutly, though he had
to gulp down something that stuck in his throat. " My folks
are done killed in the army. I've come to jine."

" What ! " exclaimed the colonel.

" I reckon you air surprise'," said Little Pettus coolly ; " but
if I am short cane, I reckon I can shoot as well es another."

It was not a time in which to be squeamish as to the quan-
tity of a recruit, so Little Pettus was assigned a drum, and
given permission to use a gun if occasion for him to use one
arose.

In the month and a half Little Pettus spent in the army
many occasions arose for him to use his gun, and these occa-
sions, with much of suffering, followed hard to the end of strife
at Appomattox.

In the July that followed what had been an arid April for

98 LITTLE PETTUS. [Oct.,

Little Pettus he reached home. His mother and Margaret were
on the gallery, and he was yet at a distance from them when
he cried, " Mother, Sister Margaret ! it's me ! Little Pettus ! "
And they ran to meet him. But before he let his mother touch
him he stood back from her, very erect, and said : " Mother, I
s'rendered with Lee ; and mother," he sobbed, " Marse Rob's the
tallest kind o' man the good God makes 'em ! "

They made a little hero of him, the mother and Margaret,
and the neighbors who were left, who came to the little house
when they heard of the return of Little Pettus. They said that
he was surely the youngest soldier that had been in the army,
and they might have added with truth what the mother thought
in her soul, there had been no braver.

He needed to be brave, for the plucky, faithful heart in its
little body had that before it that might have made a man's
heart quail. They had never been rich people, their plantation
of sugar-cane was small, but they had always been " comfort-
able." Now the land was overrun with weeds, there was no
stock of any kind left, and he was without a dollar. The last
did not trouble him ; the weeds did, for if crops grow rapidly in
Louisiana, weeds grow more rapidly. He communicated his
fear of the weeds to Margaret, and between them they resolved
that it would be folly for them to attempt anything but a small
vegetable and fruit garden that year. The boat could be mend-
ed, and fruit and vegetables could be taken across the lake to
New Orleans, where they might find a market. When they had
concluded that this was what was best to be done they told
the mother, and that night when, as was their custom, they said
their beads together, they prayed for the success of, and the
blessing of God on, the work Little Pettus had set himself to do.

And God did bless and prosper the work. The fruit-trees
and the vegetables flourished, and there was ready sale for their
produce in New Orleans, when, having loaded his boat, Little
Pettus went over calm Lake Pontchartrain with his fragrant
cargo to the city. By the November of 1867 he had fifty dol-
lars laid by in a box that lay concealed between the mattresses
of the mother's bed, and he had his eye on a mule he would
purchase.

Others looked on and saw his prosperity with sinking hearts.
At last one, bolder or less tender than the rest, warned him
that the party in power in the State would presently claim taxes
of him. Little Pettus listened without alarm. Yes, he knew
that plantations all about his own were being appropriated by

1891.] LITTLE PETTUS. 99

the State under the laws of reconstruction, but his was such a
little farm no one would grudge him it, and had it not belong-
ed to the Pettuses further back than he knew ?

" But sech is th' law," argued the bolder or less tender one.

" I don't rec'nize no sech law," declared Little Pettus.

Nevertheless, if Little Pettus would not recognize the law,
the law did what it was in duty bound to do in order to let
him know of its existence, by way of an official document that
notified him that he owed the State in taxes many times more
money than lay in the box between the mattresses, and, so it
seemed to him ijn his ignorance, much more money than his
little plantation was worth. He said nothing of this document
to his mother or to Margaret, but, having deposited it on the
burning logs in the kitchen fire-place, went on with his garden-
ing and selling as if there was no such thing as taxes. The
official document caused him some uneasiness it is true, but
when weeks passed and nothing happened, this feeling of unrest
was lost in the pleasure he took in reckoning up a private store
of money that now amounted to five dollars, and which was to
buy the mother and Margaret each a dress. " I owe it to
mother," he thought, mindful of the woollen skirt that had gone
to make him a suit of gray.

One evening in December the friend who had warned him
to beware of the taxes came to Little Pettus in his garden,
where he was gathering endive to bleach.

" Good evenin'," the friend said cordially, and stooped to
examine the strawberries in the hot-beds.

" Help you'se'f," invited Little Pettus hospitably, and added,
with some pride, "them's fine."

"I should say so! Delhoosay's" (de la Houssaye's) "ain't
nothin' to 'em,' exclaimed the friend, smacking his lips after hav-
ing tasted the fruit.

" No, no more, not 'nuther one," he insisted, when little Pet-
tus would have him continue his feast. " Barlaine's down from
Amite," he remarked after a pause.

"Down for good an' all?" inquired Little Pettus.

" No, jes' for a visit. Sue Cousin's own sister to him, you
know, an' he's heaps other kin hereabouts. He dun ax fur you,
Little Pettus."

"Did he?" cried Little Pettus, a bright smile lighting up
his sun-burned face. "I ain't seen Jim Barlaine sens me an'
Marse Rob s'rendered. He's got er wife, I reckon ! "

" I don't reckon es Jim's studyin' 'bout marryin' jest at pres-
VOL. LIV. 7

ioo LITTLE PETTUS. [Oct.,

en'. He's got ernough ter do keepirf body'n' soul together fur
hisse'f," returned the friend.

The man and the boy lapsed into thought. The boy intent
on his endive, the man evidently troubled in his mind. After a
little he broke the silence to say, " Queer doin's up ter Amite,
Little Pettus."

"How so?" asked Little Pettus.

"At Amite Cote-house," was the vague answer.

"What they doin' at er Cote-house now?" asked Little
Pettus, with contempt for the Court-house in his tone.

The friend cleared his throat, then said : f < Now, I ain't jest
dead sure Jim's right, but he say they's* auctioned off this here
Pettus place."

Little Pettus burst into a loud laugh. "They couldn't do
that without we'er consent er knowledge," he said.

" I ain't sayin' as they hadn't oughter notify you ; I only is
sayin' as how there's queer doin's at er Cote-house," returned the
friend doggedly. "They ain't sen' you any dokkeyment uv
any kin'?" he questioned.

"They sen' me a bill er taxes. I chuck it in er fiah," said
Little Pettus in a rage.

" Ef you could a chuck' them es sen' it, that'd be some-
thin'," said the friend judicially. " Es 'tis," he continued, "you'd
better be up an' doin'. You gotter do somethin'."

"Who Jim say es bought er Pettus place?" asked Little
Pettus, his face drawn, his lips firm set.

" I don't jest have his name precisely, or I'd say 'twas
Clover"

"Him as has er snake-show in Orleans?" interrupted Little
Pettus.

" I reckon that es the man Jim says," returned the friend
evasively.

"An' / reckon he ain't scotch' me yet!" retorted Little Pet-
tus with determination.

"He ain't," said the friend feebly; "but if I was you I'd see
erbout it, Little Pettus. An' now I mus' be gettin' on. My
kindly respects to the madam and your sister," he said, and
offered his hand to be shaken.

"You won't stop and eat? Well, if you won't I'll tell 'em
you asked for 'em," said Little Pettus cheerfully, and clasped
the extended hand for a moment.

He was always brave, frank, and outspoken, and this posses-
sion of a trouble the knowledge of which he must keep, if pos-

1891.] LITTLE PETTUS. 101

sible, from the mother and Margaret made him unhappy as he
had never been before. He longed for the coming of Father
Coudret on his monthly visit to the mission chapel on the lake
road close to the Pettus place. This good priest had always
been his warm friend and trusted adviser. His confidence in
the priest was great, and Little Pettus felt sure that he would
show him a way out of his difficulty, if difficulty there was.
But Father Coudret would not come until the eve of Christmas,
and this was only the twelfth of December ; in the meanwhile
there was nothing for him to do but to be cheerful and patient,
and work hard the land that maybe was his no longer.

Later on he concluded to go in search of the priest in order
that, finding him, he ask his advice as to what was best to be
done. But after going a long distance to the mission station,
where he expected to find him, he found that Father Coudret
had left there, and no one could tell the boy where he had gone.
" There's nothin' ter do but ter wait," thought Little Pettus,
and returned home.

The doubts of Little Pettus as to who was the legal owner
of the Pettus place were settled very soon, and in a way that
made it impossible for him not to believe the truth of Jim Bar-
laine's statement.

It happened in this way : Little Pettus, the mother, arid
Margaret were eating their dinner of herb soup when they heard
the thud of horses' hoofs on the earth road that led to the
house. The mother rose from her chair, and, going over to the
fire-place, where stood a great kettle, took off the cover and
looked into the kettle's depths.

"Whoever it be," she said, " they're jest in time to eat, an'
it's fort'nate I made over-much soup."

" I'll see who 'tis, an' fetch 'em right in," said Margaret, and
ran out to the front gallery, whilst Little Pettus arranged two
places at the table, for his practised ear had told him the horse-
men were two.

They could hear Margaret conversing with the strangers, and
then, to their surprise, they heard the horses trot away from the
house. The mother was about to remark on the strangeness of
this proceeding on the part of the visitors going away without
eating, dinner being on the table, when Margaret came in, a
formidable-looking roll of paper in her hand.

" They're folks from Amite. They lef this fur you," she
said, handing the roll of paper to the mother. " They ain't got
time to stop, they say, an' they say the writin' is very partic'lar."

102 LITTLE PETTUS. [Oct.,

The mother put on her silver-rimmed spectacles, and, Mar-
garet and Little Pettus peering over her shoulder, the three
together read the paper left by the strangers. The formidable-
ness of its looks did not belie the paper's contents. In short, it
was a duly signed, sealed, and attested legal document command-
ing the Pettuses to vacate Pettus place, which had been sold for
taxes to one F. A. Clover.

They read slowly, spelling out the legal expressions which
they did not half comprehend, and when they had come to the
end, having conscientiously and laboriously read every signa-
ture, the mother let the document fall to the table, and the
three stared at one another blankly, their faces pale.

Little Pettus broke the silence. " I done s'rendered," he
cried. " I ain't doin' no wrong; they ain't no right ter do that ! "

" You don't reckon we have to go, do you, son ? We was
allus here," quavered the mother.

" I don't reckon we're goin'," answered Little Pettus grimly.

" I wish't were time fur Father Coudret to come erlong. If
there's a way of gettin' out of this he'd know," said the
mother, preparing with trembling hands to clear the table, in-
stinct that no one felt inclined to eat more and her sense of
order impelling her to the work.

" He'd know, dead sure, " assented Little Pettus as he took
down his gun from where it hung over the fire-place.

"An* we'll begin er novena agains' his comin' to-night," said
Margaret.

"We'll begin er novena to-night," repeated Little Pettus
dreamily, and passed his hand affectionately over the barrel of
his gun, then blew on it and polished it with the sleeve of his
coat.

In spite of the determined and cheerful front Little Pettus
assumed, a gloom now settled on the household. The danger
impending did not make the boy less attentive to his garden or
to the selling of its products, but he no longer gave way to the
simple, child-like joy he had been wont to express at every
little addition to the store of money hidden between the mat-
tresses. People began to say he looked like a little old man,
and it is certain that a sense of the injustice done him and his
was imprinting itself on his countenance. He was but a boy,
therefore his sense of justice no doubt was crude.

After the reception of the " notice to quit," whenever he had
to journey to New Orleans he first barred all the windows of
the house, and bade Margaret and the mother bar the door after

1891.] LITTLE PETTUS. 103

him. " An' don't let any dum' stranger in fur nothin'," he would
command. And he was convinced of the wisdom of this policy
when, on his return from New Orleans on the day before Christ-
mas eve, the mother and Margaret related to him the story of
how two men had come to the house and demanded admittance
to it, which had been refused them.

" They swore they'd come ergain termorrow, an' fetch them
as ud put us out. Can they do it, son ?" asked the mother.
She could not have had more confidence in Little Pettus if he
had been a regiment of men.

" I don't jest know what the law erlows," answered Little
Pettus ; " but I reckon they'll find out all they wants ter know
if they comes, which I ain't dead sure they will."

" There's a cons'lation in er knowledge that Father Coudret'll
be here, well as them, termorrow," here put in Margaret.

" You bet 'tis !" agreed Little Pettus, with the smile that al-
ways made his face so pleasant to look upon.

Although he pretended to scout the idea of men coming to
take away from them the mother's home, Little Pettus did not
go to New Orleans on the twenty-fourth of December to seek
the ready sale there would be, because of the season, for his
fruits and vegetables. On the contrary he remained close in the
house, and would not allow doors or windows to be unbarred.
" I reckon no one's comin'," he said, "but it's jest's well be on er
safe side as not." To make surety sure, perhaps, was the reason
why, when the mother and Margaret were in another part of the
house engaged in housewifely duties, he went to the kitchen and
loaded his gun, and put about him, under his jacket, a belt well
supplied with cartridges. " Let 'em come," he muttered to him-
self as he did this, and set his lips firm.

As noonday approached and no one appeared to disturb
them, the little household became lighter of heart, and the mo-
ther and Margaret occupied themselves almost joyfully in the
preparation of the dinner, which was to be one of unwonted
splendor, at two o'clock, the hour Father Coudret would arrive
at the Pettus place. " It's that dark and dismal !" exclaimed
the mother, as she plucked the feathers from a fowl, " don't
you think, son, we might have a shutter er two open ?"

" I don't know but we might, leas' ways presen'ly," hesitated
Little Pettus, but he made no move to follow his mother's sug-
gestion.

An hour more passed, and the mother was again pressing her

104 LITTLE PETTUS. [Oct.,

demands for light, when Margaret, letting fall the cloth with
which she was about to cover the dinner-table, cried under her
breath, " Hush ! What's that ?" They listened and heard borne on
the wind the far-away rumble of wheels, and the voices of men
shouting a drunken chorus. Little Pettus sprang onto a chair
and from it onto the broad window-sill, and peered anxiously
through a loophole in a shutter, the mother and Margaret cling-
ing about him uttering aloud ejaculations of prayer to God.

He saw, through the long vista of moss-hung oaks that lined
the road on either side, three wagons drawn by mules coming
towards the house. Two of the wagons were filled with the
militia of the provisional government, the third wagon filled with
a crew of civilians. The three crews had evidently been drink-
ing, and their ribald chorus now smote the air loudly, sending
the birds affrighted from their perches among the branches of
the trees.

Little Pettus loosened himself gently. from the embraces of
his mother and Margaret, and in silence took down his gun.

" Son !" cried the mother, " you ain't goin' ter shoot no one ?"

" I ain't goin ter shed no blood if I can help it, mother,"
replied Little Pettus. " I done s'rendered, I have ; an' Marse
Rob, he say, ' Go home ter your farms, boys,' but he ain't said
nothin' what we're ter do if they comes an' takes we're farms
from us. Ask God fur me, mother."

" Son, I'm a ask'n' of him all er time, all er time," said the
mother, her eyes dry, a tense look in them ; " an' somehow I'm
that deaf 'pears ter me I jest can't hear him speak. Margy, you
kneel with me !" And she drew Margaret down beside her, where
she knelt before the faded print of the Crucifixion that hung on
the western wall.

Little Pettus listened intently, and his heart beat hard, and
prayed strongly for the mother and for Margaret. And as he
listened he heard the wagons draw up before the door, th'e
clank of the arms of the militia as they alighted, the shouts
and oaths of the men, and then the mother's name was called,
and a demand was made in the name of the law that * the
door be opened.

The mother got to her feet, and, advancing towards the door,
said: "They're callin' fur me, son ; I'll jest see what they wants."

Little Pettus grasped her arm, and drew her back. " Mother"
he whispered, " don't open that door it airit safe fur Margy."

She sprang to where Margaret still knelt, and drew the girl
to her bosom and rocked her to and fro, uttering no sound, but

1891.] LITTLE PETTUS. 105

staring with anguish in her eyes at the pictured cross on which
hung the Christ dying with a heart broken by despited love.

And now the calls were repeated that the door be opened,
and conflicting threats of breaking it open and of firing the
house were made. Little Pettus strained his ear to catch every
word that was said by the evicting party, and he half smiled
as he heard some of them advise caution, because there might
be a party of armed men within ; whilst his hand clasped his
gun more tightly when he heard the cautious ones overruled,
and one who appeared to be the master spirit call for axes to
break down the door. He thought steadily for a moment, then,
resting his gun against the wall, he clambered onto a chair the
better to reach the top drawer of a high cupboard, through
which he rummaged without rinding what he sought. He stood
for <a moment dazed, when he was suddenly aroused to himself
by the sound of the sharp blows of the axes on the door.
Seizing his gun he hurried to where his mother knelt, and, kiss-
ing her, said, " Mother, I want Margy jest er minute." She
passively let the girl slip from her embrace, and, taking Margaret
aside, he said hastily, his voice deadened by the crashing of the
axes on the hard oaken door, " Margy, where's er pistol ?
" Tain't there " ; and he pointed to the cupboard drawer.

She opened her pocket and showed him the pistol resting
within its folds.

Their eyes met in a long, penetrating look, and they knew
that each understood the other.

" I've carried it all er morning," she said, simply.

" An' you'll use it ? You know you got er right, in case
they"

The door's groaning and cracking interrupted him. He
pressed his face against hers, and, crying out on God to care for
her, he rushed panting to take his place by the beleaguered
threshold.

It was such a door as is seldom seen in our day, or it would
not have so long withstood the blows of so many keen-edged
axes, that were now sending into the room little showers of
dust and splinters. " It'll stand 'bout two seconds more," mut-
tered Little Pettus to himself, and the words were scarcely
uttered when the door groaned mightily and, wrenching itself
from its hinges, fell inward with a crash.

Standing on the fallen door, Little Pettus faced the shouting
and applauding crowd the militia, the locks of whose muskets
flashed in the southern sun ; the men who had wielded the axes,

io6 LITTLE PETTUS. [Oct.,

some of whom stood on the gallery, their bare, brawny arms

folded on their chests ; others of whom passed to one another a
bottle, and one there was who leaned on his axe and grinned
at him as he wiped with naked hand the sweat from his brow.
Little Pettus looked in their faces to see if he could recognize
a man among them to whom he could speak. As he looked
from one to another of them, the crowd hushed itself in order
tg hear what he had to say ; the man who was about to drink
paused and held the bottle half-way to his lips. But when they
found he did not speak they greeted him with jeers, asking him
why the men hidden in the house did not come out.

Little Pettus held up a hand, quickly replaced it on the
trigger of his gun, and when presently the invoked silence fell
on his tormentors he said, with unconscious irony : " I'm the
only man yere ; what's it you all want ? "

" You put down that gun, quick ! or you will find out in a
way you won't like," said a bulky man in broadcloth who now
stepped forward.

"It be my gun," said Little Pettus stolidly.

" It be, be it," sneered the man. " Do you know who I
am?"

" You be roper-in fur er snake-show ; I seen you, times, on
Canal Street," returned Little Pettus, with no intention of giving
offence.

The crowd greeted this speech with a laugh, which so irri-
tated the man that he was about to lay hands on Little Pettus,
when the boy swung himself aside and, half-aiming his gun,
cried out : " Don't lay han's on me ! I know you you be
Clover. I know what 'tis you wants ; you wants we'er home. I
won't give er up "

The crack of a pistol, a whizz through the air, and a bullet
pierced the breast of Little Pettus.

Clover stood back, with the still smoking pistol in his hand,
as an old woman and a young girl swept out of the room on
to the platform made by the fallen door. Neither the woman
nor the girl uttered a cry when they raised the limp body in
their arms and bore it to a bed-room. The crowd gazed after
them ; some curiously, some in anger because of the trouble
Little Pettus had given them, and others in remorse because of
the part they had taken in the murder done.

They had carried Little Pettus to the nearest bed-room, the
mother's, and laid him on the bed. The mother strove to

1891.] LITTLE PET TUB. 107

stauach the flow of blood, and Margaret put some strong cor-
dial to his lips. This last, together with the cold water they
applied to his forehead, revived him. Opening his eyes he looked
them in the face, and shook his head feebly, as much- as to say
that all they were doing was of no avail; he had now to give
up. The mother pressed his hand, and strove to speak words of
hope ; but could not, her voice was broken.

After a while he again opened his eyes, and said, or rather
breathed, " Mother, you and Margy say the Ac's with me."
And together they said the tender Acts of Faith, and Hope,
and Love, and those of sorrow for sin.

" Mother," he said, when they had ended, " tell Father Cou-
dret I allers studied ter do as he tol' me."

"You have, son, you have," she said brokenly.

Only like the far-away noise of a factory that jars on a plea-
sant summer landscape could be heard, in the room, the men
drinking and talking before the house.

It seemed a long time to the praying women before Little
Pettus again spoke. A bright smile on his face, he said : " Mo-
ther, I've done s'rendered las' time an' I'm goin' home ter
stay."

His eyes closed for ever on the weariness of the world, but
the bright smile never left his countenance.

HAROLD DIJON.

108 THE JOY-BRINGER. [Oct.,

THE JOY-BRINGER.

NOT when old Bion's idyls sweet were sung,

Or when fine Horace scorned the vulgar herd,
And praised his frugal fare each chosen word

Writ where full skins of rare Falernian hung,

Above a table with rich garlands flung

By Roman slaves ; not when the dancer stirred
The air of spring, like swaying wave or bird,

Was there true joy the tribes of men among !

These idyls and these odes hide sadness deep
And canker-worms, despite the shining gold

We gild them with ; their lucent music flows
To noble words at times, but words of sleep,

But words of dreaming ; life was not Life of old,-
It came to earth when God the Son arose !

II.

The fair fagade, the carved acanthus leaf,

The sparkling sea where clearest blue meets blue,
The piled-up roses, steeped in silver dew

Upon the marble tiles, the white-robed chief

Of some great family, seeking cool relief,
Upon a gallery, hung with every hue
That glads the eye, while violets slave girls strew

To cithern-sounds ; this* picture artists drew :

And, moved, our poets cry for the dead Pan ;

Turn from the rood and sing the fluted reed,

" Arcadia, O Arcadia, come again ! "
A cry of fools a cry unworthy man,

Who was a sodden thing before the Deed

Of Love Divine turned blinded slaves to men !

MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN.

1891.] FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 109

FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT.

MY grandfather was a French gentleman who, weary of the
troubles and anxieties of life in France during the latter part of
the eighteenth century, found a home in the United States. He
was a Catholic, and had been strictly educated in the knowledge
and practice of his faith ; but marrying a non-Catholic, and living
in a new country where he did not see a priest for twenty years,
it was to be expected that his family would be, as they were,
all Protestants.

After his children were all grown and married, the heroic
Father Schaff came to that part of Tennessee in which my
grand-parents resided. He visited them, and after my grand-
mother's instruction and baptism, the old people were re-mar-
ried, according to the practice of the Catholic Church, to the
great indignation of their numerous children and grand-children.

My grandfather's repentance was genuine ; he tried to undo
the work, or rather the negligence, of years, but it was too late.
The children were obstinate Protestants.

At that time my mother was the widow of his favorite son,
and I an infant. He requested her especially, if I should live,
to send me to a convent. In the excitement of her grief she
made the promise, and after my grandfather's death she re-
deemed it, in spite of the warnings of her best friends. To that
circumstance I owe the happiness of being, for a short time, a
pupil in a convent school. I went there, however, quite positive
in my religious convictions, having been immersed a few months
previously in the Mississippi River, according to the custom of
the Christian denomination led by Alexander Campbell.

My first impressions of the sisters and their home are very
vivid. There was something exciting to the imagination of a
young and inexperienced girl in the room itself in which my
brother and I were received. The uncarpeted floor was immacu-
lately clean, as indeed everything else about the convent was,
but there was a still, unworldly air given to the room may be,
by the pictures and the crucifix, which were all new to me as
articles of parlor ornament.

We were not kept waiting very long. The sister who soon
came in was a type of all the others. Their quiet dignity and
wonderful sweetness, their odd dress, attracted me ; but I was
repelled by the thought of any sort of a vow, and by what I

no FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. [Oct.,

stigmatized as their unhallowed smothering of natural affection,
and their criminal neglect of family duties. I considered that
women could be very good and useful without a distinctive
dress, and without separating themselves from other people by
an oath.

The next day my brother returned home, and I was left to
make my own way in an entirely new world, as hitherto I had
only seen and spoken to, perhaps, half-a-dozen Catholics in my
life. I had no clearer idea of the Catholic religion than of that
of Buddha, the study of which was not popular even in Boston
before the war. Although I was seventeen years old, and well
up in my classes, this ignorance was not remarkable.

Protestant girls who went to Mass were not required to
kneel, or to follow the service in any way they were simply to
keep quiet ; they might read their Bibles or other books of de-
votion if it suited them. The first morning I sat still, intensely
interested in the priest's movements. I shall never forget the
appearance of the venerable Father Hazeltine as he stood be-
fore the altar in the early dawn of that cold winter day, his
vestments seeming to give additional height and dignity to his
tall form. His hair was silvery white and flowed in curls to his
shoulders. His air and bearing were at once majestic and
sweetly benignant. A colored man served the Mass, and when
they began the prayers my amazement knew no bounds. In
my heart I characterized it as the silliest, if not the most sin-
ful, mummery to be moving about from one side of the altar to
the other, whispering words in a foreign tongue, which if I had
heard I could not have understood ; but when the assistant at
the elevation of the Host, holding to the priest's robe, rang the
little bell, the climax was reached, and I laughed contemptu-
ously and audibly. I was unconscious of my feelings until the
sound of my own voice aroused me. I looked around every
head was bowed, every attitude expressed solemnity, all over
the beautiful chapel was perfect silence. No attention was then
or afterwards paid to my bad behavior. I never again felt like
laughing at Mass, but I contented myself by reading my Bible,
which I then regarded as the only rule of faith, or listening with
closed eyes to the sweet voices of the sisters who sang in the
choir.

I learned to like to be in the chapel ; its architectural beauty,
the light streaming through the stained glass windows, the
picture of our Lord as the Good Shepherd above the altar, the
candles, the kneeling sisters in their picturesque habits, the little
swinging lamp with its constant flame, the sweet singing and the

1891.] FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. in

full organ tones, all ministered to a capacity of my nature of
which I had never dreamed.

The sisters were zealous and competent teachers. My friends
were well satisfied with my progress in my classes, and the sis-
ters' kindness to all their pupils was unfailing. My school friends
were generally Protestants, and, of course, we often discussed the
characters and motives of the sisters. One girl, who had been
sent to the convent because her guardian hoped in that way to
prevent an early marriage, " knew that all this kindness was hypo-
critical they just wanted to win the girls over to the Romish
Church the old priests put them up to it," etc., etc., in the
true Maria Monk style. This was in the year 1857, not long
after the Know-Nothing riots had disgraced several cities of
the Union, even our own Louisville being one of the number.
I did not agree with that theory, but I compared the sisters to
those devotees who throw themselves under the car of Jugger-
naut to those savage tribes who at stated times cut and other-
wise tortured themselves. I mentioned the fact that there seemed
to be a principle of human nature, which showed itself in partic-
ular individuals, which compelled people to most extraordinary
performances, such as fasting, living the lives of hermits, tortur-
ing the flesh ; and even, I said, the offering of human sacrifices
as some savage tribes did, was a manifestation of that propen-
sity. I thought it wonderful that ladies, such as my instincts
and training taught me these sisters were, could be so sensible
on every other subject and so crazy about religion.

I often attempted during recreation to enlighten dear Sister
Adelaide, who took care of us larger girls at that time. My
most vehement assertions, the most emphatic texts -of Scripture
which I could find, were always so gently answered, or maybe
in a few simple words explained so differently, that I scarcely
knew which was the greater her sweetness or her obstinacy.

While nuns have in common certain traits which mark them
all over the world the step unhesitating and unhurried, the
glance direct and modest, the manner composed and attentive,
the voice low and distinct, the words selected carefully and
spoken without emphasis yet they differ very widely in temper-
aments, tastes, and abilities. Among all the sisters I knew and
loved at the convent one still holds a unique place in my mem-
ory. A nun's age is always a matter of conjecture, but this one
was no longer young. She had been many years in religion,
she told me herself, and though I would gladly have asked her
a thousand questions concerning herself, a certain awe restrained
me. I used to wonder how a girl so lovely as she must have

ii2 FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. [Oct.,

been in youth, so fitted to shine where wit and learning are
appreciated, so sure to attract love and win respect by the bril-
liant graces of mind and body, could leave all the world had
to promise her and resign herself to wear one ugly dress all her
life, and that life to its latest breath be spent in monotonous
toil and never-ending prayers. As a girl she fascinated me, and
now, as my feet turn down the hill of life, memory brings her
before me as the loveliest, strongest, and sweetest of her sex.
There are many of her old pupils who will acknowledge that
this description is not overdrawn when I say that her name
on earth was Mother Columba. From her I learned that ele-
gance does not consist in a multiplicity of articles for personal
use or ornament, and very dimly her example taught me some-
thing of the beauty of self-sacrifice.

Every Sunday morning we had a sermon in the chapel it
was generally about the love of God or the practice of some
particular virtue, or something else that made but little impres-
sion on me but just after Easter Bishop McGill of Virginia,
stopped at the convent and preached on the Holy Eucharist.
He was a fine speaker, and a man of most winning address.
The arguments were such as are familiar to every Catholic, but
they were new to me : he explained so clearly that day that if
in his instituting the Blessed Eucharist, the sacrament of the
Last Supper, our Lord had intended to leave only a symbol of
his body and a ceremony simply commemorative of his death, that
neither the Jews nor his disciples would have been scandalized
at that, as there would have been nothing difficult of accep-
tance in that presentation. The Jews, and indeed all civilized
nations, were familiar with commemorative ceremonies, and in-
deed they are in consonance with natural human instincts, but
to be told that that bread was His Body and that wine was
His Blood, which they should eat and drink, was too much for
the faith of many of them ; they " murmured among themselves
and walked no more with him," but Peter answered him,
" Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the words of Eter-
nal Life."

The sermon, of which this is only one point, made an indel-
ible impression on me, though I could not admit to myself
even that the bishop's talk had been reasonable. I was sure
he could be answered easily enough ; I was ashamed of my
ignorance I longed to be at home where I could ask Brother
So-and-So what reply to make to the argument I had heard.

The weeks between Easter and the June commencement
passed quickly. I wept to bid good-by to good Father Hazel-

1891.] FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 113

tine and the dear sisters, but I was eager to go where I would
find a satisfactory answer to the questions in my mind.

The next Sunday I was so happy to be with my aunt and
my cousins, who were members of the same denomination to
which I belonged. Their home was near a small inland village
in Tennessee, and when we arrived at the large frame building,
which was a school-house during the week and a church on Sun-
day, we found many of the neighbors inside the house talking,
and soon learned that Brother Talbert Fanning, the preacher,
was unavoidably absent. That seemed a small affair, and a
member of the congregation promptly went to the desk and
conducted the services, which consisted of singing, prayer, the
reading of some portion of the Scriptures, and in " partaking of
the emblems," as the officiating brother phrased it. All the
members were known to the deacons, who immediately went for-
ward and took, one an ordinary dinner-plate with a thin, wide
piece of wheaten bread on it, and the other a large glass goblet
nearly filled with wine. These in turn they presented to us all.
Imagine my feelings ! I, who had expected to be so happy to
be once again among reasonable, sensible Christian people, found
myself miserable. The whole thing had shocked me: the bare
walls and floors; the, glaring windows; the careless, not to say
irreverent manners of the congregation ; the lack of ornament,
the lack of beauty, the lack of devotion, and I almost thought,
and entirely felt, the lack of decency, upset me completely. I
put a tiny piece of that flour hoe-cake between my teeth, I
touched to my lips that goblet, which had already made quite a
circuit among the members. I felt distressed and uncomfortable.
I was very glad when it was all over and I out of the house.
From that hour I was no longer a Protestant ; yet I was not a
Catholic in any sense of the word. I was young and ready to
be amused with almost everything. I tried to throw off all
thoughts of religion, as I could receive no satisfactory replies to
the questions I put concerning the way Catholics construed the
Bible. I knew they were wrong, and I tried to think, and did
think for a while, that God would save everybody that there
was no punishment after death. Being too honest to profess
what I did not believe, I rarely went to church, and ceased
altogether from " partaking of the emblems."

Time rolled on. I married a genial gentleman with no fixed
ideas about religion ; his handsome library contained any and
everything which commended itself to his literary taste. I read
what I pleased without a protest from anybody Hume, Gibbon,
Bolingbroke, Voltaire, Paine, and others were there my confusion

1 14 FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. [Oct.,

became daily worse confounded. The war came on. We went
South and followed the fortunes of the Confederacy to the last.
In the four years of exile much of sorrow had to be borne.
Once I was very sick, and in the delirium of fever I repeated
aloud, to the dismay of my nurses, the prayers I had heard so
often at the convent, though I had not thought of repeating
them since I left school. During all those sorrowful months and
years of excitement I had no thought of trying to find a fixed
faith for myself ; I held the popular Protestant opinion, that it
is a matter of indifference what one believes.

Once I met a gentle little Sister of Charity on a steamboat
on the Chattahoochee River. I was glad to see her, and talked
to her every moment we were together. She looked so peaceful
and so innocent, I could only think of a bed of violets as I
looked into her tranquil blue eyes. Her voice was soft, and
about her lingered that indescribable air of difference from other
people which I so well remembered as belonging to the sisters
at the convent school.

Sorrow followed sorrow, disaster after disaster, and finally the
day of Appomattox. We turned our faces homeward ; the scenes
which met our eyes have been described too often to be re-
peated here. My brothers and my children were dead, and
patriotism seemed dead. Effort seemed valueless, and I soon
began to wonder if life itself was worth living. In this forlorn
and purposeless mood I sat one day looking at the big and sul-
len Mississippi, which somehow seemed the type of the resistless
current which bears humanity to its unknown destiny. Just
then I noticed two gentlemen walking on the levee. I knew
by their dress that they were Catholic priests. At once I de-
termined to know them and question them of their religion,
which appeared to bring peace to its professors even in this
distracted world, where I found only suffering and dismay, re-
lieved by short periods of gayety. My husband being entirely
indifferent as to creeds, called at once, and found them to be
gentlemen and scholars. He was delighted to entertain them,
and so began an acquaintance destined to be of incalculable ad-
vantage to me. The first objection I proposed to Father B ,

who was the regular mission priest, was the uniform backward-
ness and weakness of all countries strictly Catholic, such as
Spain, Ireland, Italy, and Mexico, compared to their Protestant
neighbors. He asked if I had read Balmes on the subject. No ;
but I remembered seeing the book, Balmes's Comparative Effects
of Catholicity and Protestantism on Civilization, in the library.
I began to read it at once. I was not more profoundly im-

1891.] FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 115

pressed with the amazing amount of information collected and
arranged by the learned author than by the spirit of candor
which animated every line. I laid the book aside convinced that
the church was not a bar to the progress of nations. Still it
seemed not to be possible for me to accept its doctrines. One
day I read a sentence in a preface to one of Father Weninger's
books, I believe, which struck me very forcibly : " Protestantism
is the religion of distress and despair." How fully I realized
the bitter truth of those words.

Father B was a missionary priest, and only visited our

church once or twice a month. I began to look forward eagerly
for his coming. First it was one difficulty and then another I
would present to him. The Real Presence of our Lord in the
Holy Eucharist was never, after I began to believe anything
of revealed religion, a difficulty. It was always a source of
sorrow to me as a Protestant that we were the people of
this day I mean comparatively, orphans. I wished I had seen
Him as His companions in life saw Him, and I would often
think how much better were their chances for faith than ours.
The doctrine of the Real Presence found a lodgment in my
heart the day Bishop McGill explained it to me, but my under-
standing rejected it all as a fable and too good to be true.

Father B 's way of looking at life reminded me of the sisters :

there seemed to be a calmness and dignity in all he did and
said, though he was cheerful even to gayety. He looked into
the face of the future with the confidence of an infant in. its
mother's arms ; he never seemed torn by those wild alarms, nor
weighed down by that dense melancholy, which so often afflicted
me. His manner was unaffected and simple, and Christian hu-
mility and charity ruled his words. One day he brought me a
book which I shall never forget. It was Burnett's Path which
led a Protestant Lawyer to the Catholic Church. It was peculiarly
adapted to my condition, as it was written by a native American,
a convert to the faith after he was forty years old, who had
once accepted, as I had, the teachings of Alexander Campbell.
He examined the claims of Christianity by the rules which he
had learned as a lawyer, district-attorney, and judge of a court.
He applied them fearlessly, and his book convinced me, not only
that the Christian religion was true, but that the Catholic Church
was its authorized exponent the Bride of Christ. The appre-
hension of truth is always an intellectual delight ; the higher the
truth the more intense the delight. Order began to emerge from
chaos in my mind ; the dignity and possibilities of] 'human nature
VOL. LIV. 8

ii6 FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. [Oct.,

assumed distinct and grand proportions; the Bible, which had. once
perplexed me so greatly, was no longer a riddle ; and yet I hesi-
tated about submitting entirely to the authority of the church.
All my friends, and even all my acquaintances, except one or
two who seemed to think it impolite to discuss religion, were
Protestants, all my prejudices were Protestant. The little town
was entirely Protestant, except a few foreign-born laborers. Con-
fession, too that was a formidable affair. I had to go over
again and again all the arguments which proved the authority of
the church. I knew what she taught must be infallible truth,
because if it was not infallible truth it was not truth at all, and
that she enforced confession, not to mention the argument
drawn from common sense, to wit : we see confession existing.
If it was not instituted by our Lord and practised by his Apos-
tles, who instituted it ? And when ? In whose brain did the idea
arise? If in that of one of those " proud and haughty prelates of
a domineering church" of whom so much is said in Protestant
literature, why did such a fierce personage put the yoke of con-
fession on himself and his brother dignitaries the pope himself
not being exempt from the obligation of confessing his sins ?
In all merely human organizations the dignities belong to the
officers, the labor to the rank and file ; but in this wonder of
the centuries, the Catholic Church, the hardships belong to the
priests and bishops, who not only in their daily lives, while times
are peaceful, set an example of austere and laborious devotion
to .their flock, but in times of peril, war, sickness, famine, or per-
secution fearlessly confront the evil, whatever it may be, and
receive in their own persons, whenever it is possible, the thunder-
bolt of destruction which was intended for the souls entrusted
to their care. Where else do we find so true and universal
exemplification of the words of our Lord, " The least shall be
greatest and the greatest shall be least amongst you " ? Where
was the prelate strong enough to impose the yoke on the whole
church when it had never been heard of before ? In what age
did a people exist who would accept such an innovation silently
and without protest ? In what time has such a revolution
been possible, and the chroniclers of public events say not a
word of it ? No, said common sense to me, confession is here,
and it came to this world by the only possible manner the
command of our Lord himself.

After much deliberation and many doubts and fears, I finally
made my confession and was baptized. Even after that I found
myself wondering if confession to a strange priest would not be
a different matter. Father B , I argued, knows me well ; he

1891.] FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT. 117

cannot help recognizing my voice in the confessional, and so his
advice is all very well and suits my case ; but when I am
among strangers will it be so ? That question has been answered
to my satisfaction by trie practice of years, during which I have
confessed to priests from New York to the Gulf of Mexico, who
have never seen my face nor heard my name, and always I have
received the advice I needed, and, if my dispositions were proper,
the consolation which is to be found nowhere else ; and so it
has been of the other sacraments and practices of the church
the better I understand them the more I love them. The life
and career of the church through the centuries ; her capacity,
without yielding one iota of dogma, to be all things to all men ;
her marvellous wisdom, shown as much in what she does not do
as in what she does ; her sternness, her sweetness, her valor, her
mother love, her patient care of each individual soul and body,
her world-embracing dominion, must, when examined honestly,
stir the dullest intellect, arouse the coldest heart, and inflame
the imagination of the most phlegmatic. To all who love
righteousness, whether mystics, poets, philosophers, or practical
philanthropists, she is the strong guide leading them by safe
paths to realizations unattainable without her aid, *as she is at
once the epitome of common sense and the essence of poetry.
All this and more she is, as she is the Bride of Christ without
spot or wrinkle.

When I think of my good and truly pious Protestant friends
who are still in the house of bondage the valley of darkness
it is not so much terror that I feel for their future state as it
is sorrow for their present condition. They are poor where
they might be rich, they are blind where they might see. To
become Catholics they abandon nothing ; they bring with them to
their new home all, and sometimes that is much, that is good of
their old beliefs; they only add to what they have. Where they
have been dwelling among shadows and symbols they come to
live in light among realities. What to me is a church if it only
represents the opinions of men, no more to be relied on than I
am, even if those men are to be counted by millions ! No ! the
church is not a number of people accepting the Bible as
true and agreeing about the manner of its interpretation. It is
not a social or benevolent organization, subject to change as the
fashions do. But she is a living, sentient being, born to live un-
til the world shall be no more, endued with the wisdom of the
Holy Ghost and dowered with the love of Christ, whose Bride
she is. To know her and to obey her is earthly happiness and
eternal glory. M. M.

n8 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW.

THE period for the holding of congresses has begun, and the
season has been inaugurated by the meeting of the Interna-
tional Congress of Hygiene and Demography in London. What
Demography is was a puzzle to many before the congress met,
and we cannot say that the matter has even yet been made per-
fectly clear and precise. It seems to include within its scope
statistics relating to the health of the people at large, but this
definition does not exhaust the questions with which it deals.
The congress was attended by a large number of medical men,
sanitarians, and persons interested in certain social questions, who
came from nearly every civilized country. We wish to show all
due honor and respect to so distinguished an assembly, but we
fear that there were a considerable number of faddists included
in the number. In fact a congress which almost unanimously
voted in favor of cremation in general, and by a large majority
urged upon governments the burning of the bodies of those
killed in battle, cannot have numbered among its numerous
members the most competent authorities on this question. For
example, Dr. Virchow, of Berlin, perhaps the greatest medical
authority in the world, holds that the noxious gases arising from
the universal cremation of bodies would be far more deleterious
to health than the present mode of inhumation. And if one
theory is more in vogue than another at the present day, it is
that the germs of disease are disseminated through the air.

A still more glaring example of inconsiderateness was one
brought before the congress under the head of State Hygiene.
This was a scheme for the rendering of all travel free. The
state is to purchase the railways by the issue of bonds, which are
to bear two per cent, interest, such interest to be paid by taxa-
tion. Then any and every body will be able to get into a train
and go where he likes, and to travel as often as he likes, at the
expense of the nation. The author of the proposals said nothing
about freight, whether it also was to be free. Another pro-
posal which was made, but which did not meet with the appro-
val of many well qualified to form an opinion, appears to have
strong reasons on its side. The vice-chairman of the School
Board at Glasgow read a paper in which he said that there

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 119

were in that city no less than forty thousand single-room dwel-
lings in which in single rooms, without screen or curtain, whole
families, father and mother, boys and girls of all ages, board
and lodge, cook their meals, perform their ablutions, dress and
undress. No words are required to show that such a state of
things should not be tolerated. The writer of the paper, there-
fore, proposed that Parliament should make all such dwellings
illegal, and provide that where parents were unable from poverty
to provide sufficient lodging, application should be made to
some properly constituted authority to pay the additional sum
required. This was generally condemned as an unwise relieving
of parents of their responsibility, but no one suggested any
better means of bringing an end to a state of things which has
become utterly intolerable.

A really instructive and useful discussion was that in the
section devoted to " Preventive Medicine/' on alcoholism in its
relation to public health and the methods for its prevention.
Among the latter, Sir Dyce Duckworth recommended for the
careless drunkard a succession of punishments in the way of
cumulative fines, deprivation of the electoral franchise, and cor-
poral punishment ; for the habitual inebriate, compulsory deten-
tion, and the same regime as the lunatic. We are glad to notice
that this distinguished physician, while expressing confidence in
the usefulness of education and sanitary progress as auxiliary
helps, looked to the spread of the knowledge of God's law, and
to the implanting of His fear in the human heart, as the chief
reliance and ground of hope.

The most important and valuable paper on this subject was
read by the Professor of Political Economy at the University
of Copenhagen. We have space for only a few of the more im-
portant points. The investigations of the Harveian Society make
it probable that in London one-seventh of all adult deaths is
directly or indirectly due to the consequences of alcoholic ex-
cess. Official statistics show that from 1871-80 of males be-
tween 25 and 60 years of age nearly Soo died yearly from the
same cause. In Belgium, with its much smaller population, the
yearly loss of life from delirium tremens among males was 330
in 1879-80. Still greater were the devastations of drinking in
Switzerland ; while Prussia has a yearly loss of 1,100 males from
delirium tremens. These statistics with reference to the conti-
nental countries of Europe are somewhat surprising, for a com-

120 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

mon impression exists that among their inhabitants drunkenness
is comparatively rare. We fear that there has recently been a
change for the worse, especially in France. Good will come out
of evil if the new danger should lead the writers of moral theo-
logy in those countries to look at the subject from a point of
view different from that hitherto naturally taken by them. If
His Apostolic Majesty of Portugal had a clearer apprehension
of the evils of the drink-traffic he would not now be scandaliz-
ing the world, by allowing his officials and subordinates not
only to cause the misery and destruction of thousands of natives
in the Portuguese colonies, by allowing the sale of spirits to
them, but by forcing the adjoining Congo Free State to take
retrograde measures in self-defence.

The paper proceeded to discuss the adequacy and efficiency of
the various methods already adopted of battling with the evil,
and to suggest new methods. Among the latter a careful regis-
ter made by the medical profession of all the cases of alcohol-
ism falling under their observation would serve as a powerful
means of opening the eyes of the public. The state monopoly
adopted in Switzerland seems to have had a good sanitary
effect, and to have led to some decrease in the consumption of
spirits. This Swiss expedient secures, at all events, the sale of
unadulterated liquors, and by enabling the state to put a high
price tends to a diminution of consumption, while ten per cent,
of the profits is devoted to counteracting the effects of alcohol-
ism. Of the three American systems, prohibition, local option,
and high license, the author thinks the last the most successful.
In Holland the plan of limiting the number of licenses has had
a good effect. The most interesting and valuable part of the
paper is the account of the efforts made in Norway, Sweden,
and Finland. Here in villages the number of licenses is strictly
limited ; in towns the Gothenburg system has been introduced,
and has contributed very much to the conspicuous reduction of
drinking habits in these three countries. Should the only result
of the meetings of the congress be the bringing home to the
mind of the medical profession throughout the world the stu-
pendous evils of drinking habits, its meetings will not have been

held in vain.

The Free Education Act has now been in force since the
first of September. It is, of course, too soon to form any opin-

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 121

ion as to how it will affect the religious schools. In its passage
through the House of Lords the provisions of the bill in their
favor were strengthened, and an insidious clause detrimental to
them, which had been artfully introduced by the enemies of
religious instruction, and incautiously accepted by the govern-
ment, was discovered and negatived. ,The word " suitable " had
been introduced, the effect of which would have been to have
allowed secularists to have insisted on the opening of a School
Board school, even in a district where a good religious school
existed, on the plea, for example, that a Catholic school, even
under the conscience clause, was not a " suitable " school for
Protestant children to attend. The government, however, on
the return of the bill from the Lords, insisted on the excision
of the word, maintaining that a Catholic school when approved
of by the inspectors was a school sufficiently good for all chil-
dren, Catholic and Protestant alike. While in Protestant Eng-
land the government and the majority m Parliament are thus
defending religious education, in what is commonly called Ca-
tholic France the last step is just being taken for the seculariza-
tion of boys' schools. When those schools open this month all
the teachers will be exclusively lay teachers, the five years
allowed by the law of 1886 having expired. This does not
apply, however, to girls' schools, in which there still remain
eleven thousand religious women.

So far as regards Europe, the past month has been a hard
time for journalists and newsmongers, a sign, we hope, of its hav-
ing been a good time for the public at large. The visit of the
French fleet to Cronstadt ; the enthusiasm manifested by ruler
and subjects alike ; the tears of Admiral Gervais by all accounts
the last man in the world to shed tears, except to order have
formed the main subject of comment and especially of conjecture.
Does this event import the conclusion of an alliance between
the French Republic and the Russian autocracy, or only an
understanding? And how far does the alliance or the under-
standing go ? Will Russia assist France in case the latter at-
tacks Germany, or only in the event of Germany taking the
aggressive ? And what is France to do for Russia ? Discussions
of such topics as these and of the meaning of the French fleet's
visit to Portsmouth fill the columns of the newspapers with
many words and little information. For it is not the way of
those who are in charge to reveal by means such as these (if
they reveal at all) the purposes and projects which they cherish.

122 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

This, however, may safely be said, that by the warm recep-
tion accorded by Russia to the French fleet France feels that
she no longer occupies that position of isolation in which she
has been since the disasters of 1870-71. A load has been taken
off her mind, and a spirit of greater self-contentment, and also, it
is hoped, of greater friendliness towards her neighbors, has re-
sulted. Another result is that the Republic as a republic has
been strengthened, for the grave reproach cast upon it by Bona-
partists and Monarchists, that the isolation of France was due
to its form of government, has been removed. All this is satis-
factory as tending to the maintenance of peace. Some indica-
tions of a contrary tendency have, however, been manifested.
Both France and Russia have points of conflict with England
with respect to the Turkish Empire, and the rumored resolve
of the Sultan to depose the Khedive of Egypt, and his allow-
ing the Russian "Volunteer" Fleet to pass through the Darda-
nelles, are looked upon* by some as the first manifestation of the
policy of the new alliance. This is, we hope, but an unfounded
supposition, and the worst effect which we anticipate will be
the spoiling of Lord Salisbury's holiday.

In the fairly prosperous state of the rest of Europe Russia,
however, does not share. Owing to the failure of the crops in
many parts of the empire grave apprehensions are entertained of
an actual famine. Already, in fact, the peasants in the valley of
the Volga are said to be in a state of the utmost destitution,
without food or clothes and wandering about in rags ; and Rus-
sian writers are looking forward to the bankruptcy of the entire
peasantry. Wholesale emigration is threatened, and, in fact, has
already commenced on a large scale. Under these circumstances
the advantages (if any) of an absolute government become ap-
parent. For the first time since the Crimean War the export
of rye, the chief food of the people, has been prohibited by an
imperial ukase. The railway freight rates for grain consigned to
the provinces which are in need have been compulsorily re-
duced ; the officials of the Department of Agriculture have been
empowered to buy grain at current rates for the sustenance of
the inhabitants ; and extensive relief works, such as country
roads, new public buildings, and the like, have been set on foot.

The ukase forbidding the export of rye was issued on the
eleventh of August, but was not to come into force until the
twenty-seventh. This gave an opportunity for the dealers in

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 123

grain to manifest their tender-heartedness and consideration for
the wants of the starving poor. This they did by selling and
hurrying over the frontier vast quantities of the rye of which
the peasants stood in need. In some places from which the
grain was being moved there were riots, the peasants even de-
stroying the grain and wrecking the houses of the exporters.
In one place they threw themselves down on the railway tracks
before the train in order to prevent its starting. If the Jews
are concerned in this exportation and in one case, as a matter
of fact, they were while we cannot justify, we do not wonder
at the severe measures taken against them. These measures, far
from being relaxed, have been made more stringent. A recent
order has been made enjoining the strict enforcement of the
law which forbids them to own mills or factories. No one can
help feeling pity for the Russian Jews in their cruel sufferings.
However, it must be said that where they have full liberty they
do not render it the easier for their Christian neighbors to earn
an honest living.

The ukase of the czar, although, as we believe, unintention-
ally, has had a serious effect upon the course of events in the
German Empire, and has almost led to a cabinet crisis. For
the German peasant, as well as the Russian, lives chiefly on rye,
and ninety per cent, of this rye was imported from Russia. The
prohibition of its export, therefore, cut off the food of the Ger-
man peasantry, or at all events rendered it, as well as every kind
of grain, very much dearer. A strong movement, therefore, set
in for the abolition of the duties on grain, and this movement
found supporters in the cabinet. Its opponents have for the
time being prevailed, but more will be heard of it. The Ger-
man army has, however, benefited by the Russian emperor's
action, for wheaten bread has been substituted for rye bread
through his action. After resting for a few weeks on board his
yacht, William II. has resumed his round of visits, and has been,
by all accounts, enthusiastically received at Munich.

The status quo has been maintained in Italy with a trend,
however, towards the worse. Signor Crispi has written an article
in the Contemporary Review which, should he ever come into
power again, will not improve the relations between France and
Italy. The Marquis di Rudini, however, cannot well cease to be
premier before November, when the Parliament reassembles.
Meanwhile the financial position of Italy is rendering her best

124 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

and warmest friends exceedingly anxious. The deficit, which it
was the main purpose of the Marquis di Rudini's government to
avoid, promises to amount to a sum variously estimated at from
twenty millions to sixty millions of lire; and it seems almost
impossible to remedy this except by additional taxation. This,
however, is far from being feasible, for the strongest de-
mand of the people is for the reduction of the present taxation.
Nothing remains but retrenchment of the present expenditure.
But this can only be effected, since the Triple Alliance has been
renewed, by the diminution of offices and the deprivation of
office-holders, and the attempt to do this was a main cause of
Signor Crispi's fall. The disorder which exists in the national
finances finds its counterpart in trade and commercial circles.
Vast sums of money have been advanced by the banks in fur-
therance of the embellishment (so called) of Rome and other cities,
and now a crash has come. For the banks to call in their money
would cause well-nigh universal bankruptcy; they have conse-
quently openly violated the law which limits their note-circula-
tion, and have issued notes of a value exceeding by more than a
milliard the legal limit. The political union of Italy has not ac-
complished its financial union, for the notes of a bank good in
one part are not good in another. Thomas a Kempis tells us
that every vice will hereafter have its own appropriate punish-
ment ; the experience of Italy seems to -show that this is true
even in this world, and that those who have been guilty of rob-
bery are justly afflicted with want.

The chronic trouble of Austria-Hungary arising from the
large number of nationalities subject to the rule of the dual
monarchy has manifested itself in strange demonstrations of
the Young Czechs at Prague. Some of the more ardent of
these nationalists have been fraternizing with the Russians, while
showing contempt for their German compatriots. To such an
extent have they gone that there has been a split in the Young
Czech party. Against the Hungarian domination, too, the Tran-
sylvanians are protesting in much the same way that the Hun-
garians protested against the Austrian, but it would seem with-
out the same justification. In Bulgaria Prince Ferdinand has

celebrated the fourth anniversary of his accession to power. Al-
though his success may be in a measure due to the somewhat
harsh and high-handed methods adopted by his premier, M.
Stambouloff, yet the fact that he has maintained his position af-
fords matter for congratulation to all friends of liberty. Quiet

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 125

still reigns in the Balkan States, although there are rumors of ap-
proaching trouble ; but these in all probability find their raison

d'etre in helping to fill newspaper columns. The long-talked-of

revision of the Belgian constitution has been deferred until the
meeting of Parliament in November. The committee to report
on the subject have, however, brought their labors to a conclu-
sion, and have unanimously condemned universal suffrage and
declared in favor of the occupation system. In Portugal, not-
withstanding all efforts, the financial crisis still continues. It has
been decided to adopt the bi-metallic system, in the hope of
averting similar crises in the future. Spain is in the happy po-
sition of being without a history, except that an unexplained, and
apparently inexplicable, attempt was made by some fifteen men

to force their way into the barracks at Barcelona. Holland

has passed under the control of the Liberals, after having been
ruled for many years by a strong Conservative ministry. Let
us hope that the new ministry will bring to a conclusion the
war which Holland has been waging for so many years in her

East Indian Colonies.

In labor legislation the last session of the British Parliament
was not altogether barren, although some projects warmly advo-
cated by many working-men, notably the Eight Hours' Bill,
were not even discussed. Of the five measures introduced in the
beginning of the session in one or the other House, the govern-
ment Bill for the regulation of Factories and Workshops, pre-
pared by Mr. Henry Matthews, the Catholic member of the
cabinet, became law, having incorporated such of the proposals
of its competitors as commended themselves to the judgment
of the House. The most noteworthy feature thus adopted was,
as we have already mentioned, the raising of the legal age for
the employment of children in factories to eleven. This was
carried in opposition to the government ; but they were beaten,
accepted their defeat, and proceeded with the bill. Even yet
England has not fully conformed to the Berlin Conference,
which recommended the non-employment of children under the
age of twelve, although this is, we believe, the only respect in
which those recommendations are not realized in Great Britain

itself.

In India, where the Governor-General in Council is the abso-
lute law-maker subject to the approval of the Secretary of State
for India, a measure regulating factory labor has been enacted.

126 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

Grave complaints are being made of its failure to correct the
abuses existing in that country. Strange to say, the old and
bitter foes of all legislation of this kind in England the Lanca-
shire manufacturers are its warm supporters for India, and it
might at first sight be thought that even they had at last been
moved to sympathy and consideration for others. But we are
afraid that the truth is that the Indian manufacturers are rivals
and competitors, and that the real motive for the seeming
anxiety for the welfare of the Indian laborer is the selfish one
of desiring to restrict competition. It is difficult, of course, for
those who are unacquainted with a country and with the customs
and habits of its people to form a judgment on such a question,
but for all that it seems to us that in this point the Lancashire
manufacturers are for once right. A state of things can hardly
be looked upon as satisfactory where out of from 10,000,000 to
12,000,000 of women and children employed in industrial pursuits
only 50,000 receive even such protection as the new act confers.
And this protection is altogether inadequate. As a specimen of
this, it is sufficient to say that the new act allows children of
nine years of age to work standing at a machine for seven
.hours a day; that the lads over fourteen years of age are
classed under the act as men, and may consequently be com-
pelled, under penalty of dismissal, to work for fourteen hours a
day ; that girls are counted as women at the same age of four-
teen, and as such are liable to be worked for eleven hours a
day, or sixty-six hours a week. As even greater abuses than
these, which we have not space to mention, are left untouched
by this new act, it would seem clear that those who criticise
and condemn it have right and justice on their side ; and we
hope that they may be able to have their voice heard so as to
prevail over the claims of selfishness and greed.

As we have already mentioned, a law has been made in
France for the raising of the age of the legal employment of
children in factories. The same law also establishes a ten-hours
working-day, forbids the employment of women and children at
night-work, and prescribes one day's rest in seven. The irre-
ligious spirit was too strong in the legislative chambers for them
to make Sunday that day of rest, and a proposal to that effect
was defeated. It is consequently left to private employers of
labor to choose the day, and doubtless Sunday will be the
choice of many. It is gratifying to learn that this new law is
mainly due to the efforts of the Comte de Mun, the zealous de-

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 127

fender of religion in the Assembly. The French Senate, which
is a stronghold of laissez faire, laisser alter, sent the bill back
twice to the Assembly with a refusal to ratify the restrictions on
night-work. The Comte de Mun, however, made so powerful a
speech that he secured for these clauses a majority of three
hundred and five votes. Thereupon the Senate yielded and the

measure became law.

In addition to the bill for the relief of destitute and deserving
workmen, of which we have made mention in our last number,
the Minister of the Interior has also introduced, or at least has
publicly promised to introduce, an agricultural credit scheme for
the advancing by the state of loans to farmers at a very low
rate of interest. The justification of this proposal is found in
the fact that while land only yields two and one-half per cent.,
the farmers have to pay five per cent, for loans. However, it is
one thing to introduce a bill and another to pass it into law,
and it may be a very long time before we hear that these pro-
posals have become law, especially as in France a bill may wan-
der about from house to house for several years, or may perish
in a committee, without its being known who is responsible for
its fate. But for government bills there should be a better out-
look.

Other proposals have been laid before the Chambers for arbi-
tration between masters and men, and for facilitating the for-
mation of co-operative societies, and of these the same thing
must be said. Among actual achievements, however, must be
reckoned the establishment of a Labor Bureau (analogous to
those already existing in this country) for the collection of all
kinds of economic information, and for the periodical publication
of the information thus obtained. It is divided into a central
and an exterior department, the work of the latter being the inves-
tigation of foreign methods of dealing with economic problems.
It is worthy of notice that the attitude of hostility towards
trades-unions and other organizations of labor maintained until
recently in France was entirely due to the legislative action of
the revolutionists of the last century. In the name of liberty
the absolute dominion of the state over each citizen was enforced,
and not only was freedom of conscience invaded, but in 1791 a
law was passed by which all persons belonging to the same pro-
fession were prohibited from meeting together and deliberating
in defence of " their pretended common interests," such delibera-

128 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

tion being condemned as " unconstitutional, dangerous to liberty
and to the declaration of the rights of man." This fact should
have an influence in correcting the popular idea of the spirit of
the French Revolution of 1789.

Nor is our chronicle of French efforts for the amelioration of
the lot of the workman even yet complete. The government
has instituted a Conseil Superieur du Travail consisting of fifty
members, nominated by the government itself. The object of
this council is to deliberate upon social and industrial questions,
to devise remedies, and to advise the government accordingly.
It has no power to make laws, only to suggest the making of
laws. It is made up of members of Parliament, of employers
of labor, and of workmen in about equal numbers, and in the
list of its members there are such well-known men as the Comte
de Mun, M. Jules Simon, and M. Leon Say. Among the recom-
mendations already made are that laws should be passed ren-
dering it obligatory to pay wages in ready money, and every
fortnight at least, and for the creation of permanent boards of
arbitration and conciliation. Whether this council has the power
to call witnesses and to take evidence, we do not know. Such
power would, it seems to us, greatly increase its usefulness ; but
in any case it would seem impossible for it to fail to be of great
service. Councils of a somewhat similar character have been
established in Belgium, but their powers seem wider and fuller,
embracing, as they do, the right to take measures for the pre-
vention or termination of strikes and similar conflicts. The
time which has elapsed since the institution of those councils is
so short that no judgment can yet be formed as to their utility
and efficiency.

Of the schemes not yet submitted to the judgment of Par-
liament, that of Mr. Chamberlain for Old-Age Pensions seems
the most likely to be realized in some form or other. A small
committee has been appointed, selected from the larger general
committee, to elaborate a measure in all its details for presenta-
tion at the opening of the next session. The most serious oppo-
sition with which the proposal is meeting is from the friendly
societies, who fear that their own work will be interfered with.
It seems a pity that they should, on this account, stand in the
way of greater good being done than they are able or willing
themselves to do ; but that is the way of the world. However,
every effort is being made to minimize their opposition and

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 129

even to secure their co-operation. The scheme prepared by one
of the members of the committee as a basis for discussion makes
the payment of a small sum the condition o.f receiving a pen-
sion at the age of sixty-five, and this sum may be paid either
into an approved friendly society or insurance office, or a post-
office savings-bank. This condition having been fulfilled, con-
tributions are to be made from moneys to be voted by Parlia-
ment, and also from the local rates, and, besides, all relief paya-
ble under the present Poor Law is to take the form of out-door
relief. According to the latest accounts, the societies are not
satisfied with the part allotted to them, and the scheme has
been modified in order to meet their objections.

The strike on the Scotch railways, which took place last
Christmas, although it resulted in the defeat of those engaged in
it, has proved far from fruitless. Besides the appointment of a
parliamentary committee to inquire into the number of hours
worked by railway employees to which it led, the directors of
nearly every company in their recent reports to their share-
holders call attention to the fact that there has been an increase
of expense, due either to the grant of higher wages or of
shorter hours of employment, and a consequent increase of the
staff, or to both. With one exception all the companies have
declared reduced dividends. This reduction, however, is not due
exclusively to the increase of wages, other causes having con-
tributed. Nor can it be said that the railways in England make
undue profits. Of the eleven great companies the dividends
range from one and one-half per cent., the lowest, to six and one-
quarter per cent., the highest ; while breweries, banks, and gas-
works bring in quite frequently from ten to eighteen per cent.

The extreme complication of all questions as to wages is well
illustrated by the recent action of Parliament with reference to
the railway companies. Between these companies and the traders
a long controversy as to rates has been raging for many years.
The matter was taken in hand by Parliament, with the view to
a uniform and simple settlement of the mctfymiun rate for every
kind of goods. This was an enormous work, for from eighteen
to twenty million different charges had to be discussed and settled.
However, the task has been accomplished, and for nine of the prin-
cipal railways the requisite bills have been passed. As a result
some of the railways and some of the traders are satisfied or at
least contented, while others of both parties are not. It is not,

130 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

however, with this that we are concerned, but with its bearing
on the question of wages. This bearing seems close and inti-
mate ; for if a maximum rate is fixed by law for the carriage
of goods, and if this maximum rate allows only a small margin
for the increase of such rate (and the margin must be small if
the rates charged are to satisfy the traders), where is the money
to come from for any notable increase either of the wages or of
the staff ? The possibility of doing this seems to have been
taken away by the action taken by Parliament for the benefit
of the customers of the company.

Many who look upon the long-existing relations between
capital and labor with great anxiety have cherished the hope
that the co-operative movement would afford a way of escape
from the impending dangers, by enabling the working-man to be
at once a capitalist and a laborer, and thus, by bringing about a
union of the two opposing forces, ending the conflict. This
hope has been somewhat damped by what must be called the
failure of the productive part of the co-operative scheme when
compared with the" distributive part. The latter has had a stu-
pendous success, but that success only means that some millions
of the poorer classes get their goods at reasonable rates, and
share in the profits, and learn valuable lessons of thrift and pru-
dence. These are results not to be despised by any means, but
still falling short of the promises made and the expectations en-
tertained. Co-operators, however, are not daunted by the poor
success of previous attempts in this branch of their undertaking,
and are at the present time renewing their efforts to attain

success.

A National Co-operative Festival has been recently held at
the Crystal Palace, London, of which a principal feature was a
Co-operative Workshops Exhibition. Of the 117 co-operative
workshops now existing in the United Kingdom, between 30 and
40 sent specimens of their products. What is of interest, how-
ever, is the statements as to progress, principles, and prospects
made by the promoters of the movement. As to progress, it
was stated that the recent annual returns show that while the
distributive side has grown 14 or 15 per cent., the productive
side has grown 50 per cent, in the same time. Nearly 10,000
persons were employed in the various workshops, and the losses
through failure had fallen from upwards of ^"3,000 in 1888 to
less than 500 in 1890.

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 131

The system of managing these workshops is by no means
uniform. In some the workmen neither receive a bonus nor
share in the profits, being paid good but fixed wages, the
higher rate of wages accorded them constituting their reward
and differentiating them from the employees of private persons.
In 76 or 77 of the 1 1 1 co-operative workshops the principle of
sharing profits with the workers has been adopted, and is thus
gaining the predominant position. From the experience derived
from these workshops very valuable light has been shed upon a
generally recognized principle of political economy. It has been
held as certain that what the worker gains by an addition to
his wages must be abstracted either from the share of the in-
vestor or from that of the customer. The experience of profit-
sharing co-operative workshops goes to prove that the results of
industry are not a fixed quantity, but vary with the efforts of
all concerned, and those efforts can be stimulated or depressed
by the treatment accorded the workers. As an instance of this
we may cite the case of the employees in a certain industry,
who, before they had become familiar with the practical opera-
tion of the profit-sharing system, produced only from 20 to 26
tons per week ; after they had experienced the advantage of
sharing in the profits the product went up to 57 tons per week.
Thus it is not merely the men, but the good will of the men,
that must be taken into account, and when this is gained neither
the investor nor the customer need suffer either by diminution
of profit or by increase of price.

The International Socialist Labor Congress which has been
holding its meetings at Brussels is of interest as throwing some
light upon the working-men's views of recent legislation in
various countries. How far this congress represents their opin-
ions it is hard to say. On the one hand, the Anarchists will not
recognize its claims, for their representatives were expelled, all
the members of the congress looking upon legislation as the
legitimate means for the redress of grievances. On the other
hand, contrary to anticipation, the English trades-unions were
very poorly represented. For this there was a twofold reason.
While zealous for labor reform, these unions are unwilling to
commit themselves to Socialism ; even the delegates who were
present unanimously made it known to their colleagues that
they were attending its meetings as a labor congress and not
as a Socialistic congress. As a consequence the title of the
VOL. LIV. 9

132 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Oct.,

next meeting, which is to be held in Switzerland in 1893, has
been left undetermined. The other reason was that there seems
to have been something like sharp practice in the management
of the preliminary arrangements. The Socialists taking part in
these proceedings are divided into two opposed organizations,
the Marxists and the Possibilists, and at Paris in 1889 each of
them had its congress. To the Belgian workmen's organization
the Possibilists entrusted the making of the arrangements for
the present congress. They are accused of having proved faith-
less to their charge, of having entered into negotiations with the
rival party, and even of having delivered to it the control of
the congress. Consequently, it is thought, many absented them-
selves, and in the congress the Marxists were in the majority.
Hence it is doubtful of how large a number of European work-
men the resolutions may be considered as expressing the
opinion.

However, taking these resolutions .for what they are worth,
they show that the workmen are by no means satisfied with the
results of the Berlin Conference ; that the governments have not
realized its recommendations ; in fact, that, according to their
view, in some respects the conference has been rather a hin-
drance than a help. Workmen, therefore, must perfect their
organizations. Here comes the point of difference between the
Possibilists and the Marxists. Is there to be one central con-
trolling body for the whole world, as there was in the old Inter-
national, and as the Marxists desire, or is each nation to man-
age its own affairs in its own way ? Strange to say, the majority
of this congress, although composed of Marxists, accepted the
views of the Possibilists and renounced their own cardinal prin-
ciple of one central controlling body. There is to be co-opera-
tion not subordination in the warfare against " wagedom." This,
if it can be looked upon as final, is the most important step
taken since the dissolution of the International, uniting as it
does the divided ranks of the Socialists, and limiting the per-
manent organization to the appointment of a committee of in-
quiry in each country for the purpose of collecting and exchang-
ing information in furtherance* of labor legislation.

Other resolutions were passed, but of no special moment.
The animating spirit of the congress was hatred for capitalists.
The representative of one of the American societies, as president

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 133

at one of the meetings, told his auditors that in this country
seventy thousand millions of dollars were annually stolen from
the hands of those who produced them. " In the midst of
wealth," he added, " misery is increasing so fast that the land
of the brave and the home of the free is in reality a hell."'
The Jewish question proved a thorny one ; for while there are
many Jewish workmen, a large proportion of the capitalists of
Europe are also Jews. The congress ended the discussion by
passing a resolution condemning both anti-Semitic and philo-
Semitic agitation. The organization of strikes and boycotting
was declared a duty as the only weapons for carrying on the
war with capital. Arbitration,, however, might be admitted when
compatible with the dignity of labor. All wage-earners were
urged to join trades-unions, and the employment of the workers,
it was declared, should be regulated only by their own unions,
and by labor exchanges of which they had control. A striking
feature of the congress were the strong manifestations in favor
of peace between nations, a feeling which would be altogether
admirable were it not combined with a burning hatred of capi-
talists. At the first meeting the joint presidents were a French-
man and a German. The English delegates were emboldened
by this spectacle of fraternal feeling to ask the members to
take part with them in a demonstration on the field of Water-
loo. This, however, was going too far, and the invitation was
declined. A very important negative result of the congress was
the little practical support which the proposal of an interna-
tional strike received, at all events for the present.

134 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

THE second volume * of the Marie Antoinette Series has just
been issued, and will be found entertaining as well as useful.
Opening with the return to the Tuileries after the terrible
"October Days" of 1789, it gives all that is essential to history
in the doings and sufferings of the royal family up to the close
of 1791. It includes, moreover, as is usual in their author's work,
a bird's-eye view of the whole situation, and an artistic selection
of salient points and picturesque .details which lends the color
and attractiveness of romance to what might have been left dry
narrative with equal accuracy to main facts. It is easy to
understand the universal popularity of these sketches of the
" Famous Women of the French Court." The original series
contains several portraits which, judging from the advertisements
which accompany the successive volumes sent us, are probably
not to be included in the Scribner translations. Though they
are neither crowded with details nor oppressively didactic in the
moralizing to which Saint-Amand is occasionally prone, they
remain abundantly circumstantial, they are fortified by citations
from unfamiliar or until now unused diaries and correspondence,
and their tone, though sometimes so "French " that we observe
it has invited free translation and now and then the judicious
excision of a paragraph in different volumes, is on the whole
elevating and wholesome.

The interest of the present volume culminates in the second
of its three parts : The Varennes Journey. The reader follows
that painful flight and terrible arrest with breathless sympathy,
and finds it not strange that a single one of those bitter nights
should have sufficed to whiten the Queen's hair. Strong chap-
ters, however, both precede and follow this central situation.
Those devoted to " The Religious Question," for example, includ-
ing the one called "Holy Week in 1791"; that descriptive of
" Paris during the Suspension of Royalty " ; and especially those
which deal with Mirabeau " the Thunderer," the Janus-faced, the
mercenary who, nevertheless, sold a genuine article when he
accepted the price of his late adhesion to the Queen. Like
almost all who were ever attracted by her, he came to an un-
timely end. He beheld himself dying, says Saint-Amand, with

* Marie Antoinette at the Tuileries, 1789-1791. By Imbert de Saint-Amand. Trans-
lated by Elizabeth Gilbert Martin. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 135

melancholy curiosity, and mourned for his country more than
for himself. He had shone for a period so brief! He was forty
when he achieved popularity, and twenty-two months had suf-
ficed him to " make a name in history which places him at the
side of Cicero and Demosthenes." The accounts of his death-
struggle, "grandiose, pathetic, theatrical," with the nameless
youth who offered his blood to be transfused into the veins of
the great tribune ; with the alleged interviews between the sick
man and the " constitutional " Bishop of Lyons, the ex-Lazarist
Lamourette, whom Mirabeau had taken under his wing and
made a tool of, while in his heart he despised the oath-subscrib-
ing clergy; and the splendid obsequies at which, according to
Camille Desmoulins, nothing was lacking except true respect and
genuine sorrow, are wise and suggestive. So, too, are the few
quick strokes that brush in the outlines of a portrait, elaborated
in a volume yet to come, of the melancholy Swede, Fersen,
whose name is so closely linked with that of Marie Antoinette
by the ties of romantic friendship and unselfish devotion. The
two famous deputies who rode back to Paris from Varennes in
the historic berlin containing the royal family are treated more
at length : Barnave, who having found nothing which attracted
him in her days of splendor, succumbed without a struggle to
the charm of the defenceless and insulted Queen, differing from
Mirabeau in that, where the aristocrat sold himself, the son of
the people gave himself away, paying with his head, in the
same month that witnessed Marie Antoinette's execution, for the
alteration in his sentiments. Petion, too, the " virtuous " dema-
gogue, soon to be Mayor of Paris and to connive at the inva-
sion of the Tuileries by armed mobs, full already of the insuffer-
able conceit of a small nature thrust by circumstances into a
place too large. These, and others who are rubbed in with a
less lingering touch, make a sort of frame that surrounds, and
isolates, and yet helps to throw up the central figure into the
light in which Saint-Amand chooses to present it. That it was
a gracious, a charming, a courageous and majestic figure, no
matter by whom presented, must be owned. But there are other
points of view besides that here given. It seems to us that this
series, by its Catholic tone, its general accuracy, and its unfailing
vivacity, should be well adapted to the uses of our Reading
Circles.

Little is definitely known of the life of the Blessed Angelina *

* Life of the Blessed Angelina of Marsciano, Virgin. Compiled from Ancient Docu-
ments by the Honorable Mrs. A. Montgomery. New York : The Catholic Publication Society
Co.; London : Burns & Gates.

136 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

of Marsciano, sometimes called of Corbara, or of Civitella, or again
of Foligno, but who must by no means be confounded with St.
Angela of Foligno, whose life and collected sayings or writings
form so unique a treasure of contemplative wisdom. The Blessed
Angelina, says her present biographer, was the foundress of the
Third Order Regular of St. Francis. She was born of noble
parents in 1377, and at a very early age devoted herself to God
by a vow of virginity. Nevertheless, her father's orders, seconded
by an interior injunction to obey and leave the result to God,
induced her to marry Count John of Civitella when she was six-
teen and he eighteen. But few details of her inner history have
come down to us save those which concern this marriage and
the vision, seen by each of them, which won over her youthful
husband to ratify her vow on their wedding-day by taking a
similar one himself. The count died a year later, and Angelina's
community, the germs of which she had sown even in her child-
hood among the young girls with whom she associated, gradu-
ally grew up about her in her own castle. Once she was sum-
moned before Ladislas, King of Naples, on the charge of con-
demning marriage and entertaining heretical views concerning it,
and escaped being burnt at the stake by that tyrant through a
miraculous interposition. Not much else seems to be known
about her, and to make her the subject of a book, even so tiny
a one as this, it has been necessary to pad its pages with con-
temporary but not' especially germane historical details, pictures
of life in feudal castles, and other matters of the sort. These
are pleasantly told, however, and the volume is got up with that
neatness and good taste which make all the issues of the
Catholic Publication Society Co. so agreeable to the eye.

Another book from the same publishers, the concluding por-
tion* of Sir John Croker Barrow's legendary poem, Mary of
Nazareth,' seems fully meritorious of the high and generous
praise awarded those earlier parts which have not fallen under
the present writer's notice. The present volume is a devout
meditation, in smooth, correct, easy-flowing verse, in which sacred
themes are treated with dignified reserve and yet with an evi-
dent passion of religious feeling which go very far toward
making the result worthy of its ineffable subject. Higher praise
it would not be easy to give. As a poem, its merits are so
even, that to read it entire is the only way to get an adequate
idea of its author's literary gift. The selections we make will
give the reader an inkling of its quality :

*Mary of Nazareth. A Legendary Poem. By Sir John Croker Barrow, Bart. New
York: The Catholic Publication Society Co.; London : Burns & Dates.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 137

" At dawn of day the day of Mary's birth
There fell a golden cloud upon the earth ;
Down-curtained, from the throne of God above ;
The mystic shadow of His earth-drawn Love;

On all the Holy Land, tradition saith,

Between Jerusalem and Nazareth
Between the Temple of the Cherubim
And humble home of Anne and Joachim

Uniting thus, whilst Angels thither trod,

The house of Mary to the house of God !
For, though it seemed to eyes of men a haze

Of sun-mists, gathered in a golden sheen,

Yet was it full of Angels ; who, unseen
By mortal eye, yet shone, beneath the gaze
Of God, resplendent ! like the crystal gems

That sparkle in the snow-drift, as it lies ;
Or like the stars, that fill with diadems

The milk-white arch that spans the purple skies."

The narrative and reflective portions of the poem, cast in-
variably into a form like the foregoing, are interrupted at the close
of each series of events described, by hymns of which the follow-
ing is one of the best :

" Weep, Mary, weep ! Oh, Sons of Shem !
Our city streets we cannot tread
With baby blood the stones are red
Oh, weep for Bethlehem !

" Weep, Mary, weep ! Oh, none can stem

The streams of blood that have been shed
Each river, crimson in its bed
Oh, weep for Bethlehem !

" Weep, Mary, weep ! Jerusalem

Still weeps, that, though thy Son hath fled,
Our little sons have died instead
Oh, weep for Bethlehem !

" Weep, Mary, weep ! But not for them !
Sweet Innocents ! they are not dead !
But with their Angels overhead
Oh, weep for Bethlehem ! "

Sir John Croker has treated with especial reverence, delicacy,
and good taste: which may seem an anti-climax but in this case
is not so the Passion and Resurrection of our Lord, and the
death and Assumption of His Blessed Mother. Reverence most
of those seem to feel who have essayed to handle such themes,
whether Catholic or Protestant. But reserve, delicacy, good
taste, handmaids so essential to the task that one can but liken
them to the angelic messengers whose aid God Himself did not

138 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

dispense with when these scenes were enacted, are frequently so
lacking that one sees merely the traces of those who " rush in "
unabashed where these angels have not led the way.

Of the fourteen stories in Life's Handicap* which the Mac-
millans have set apart from the rest by a copyright, as either
new or never before produced in America, there is none that
will not bear to be read and re-read by those agreeably suscep-
tible to their author's certainly peculiar quality. How to define
or describe it was never clear, nor does it become much clearer
on prolonged acquaintance. Who can tell us by what magic Mr.
Kipling succeeds in persuading us, not alone that all his tales are
true, but that they happened, as it may have been, when he was
there to see. Certainly he never says so, but the instinct of the
" true believer " in him is to credit him with being the third
with Strickland and Fleete in the terrible hobgoblin story of
" The Mark of the Beast " (not one of the new ones but new to
us) ; as it is to believe in his changing clothes with Sidney
Ortheris, or creeping through the jungle grass to the Bubbling
Well, or sitting sympathetic by while Mulvaney anoints his ach-
ing feet with butter. The clue to his mystery is more than
possibly contained in the lines we italicize in the stanzas we are
about to quote from the fine invocation to the " Great Overseer "
which figures as U Envoi to this collection of things new and
old:

" The depth and dream of my desire,

The bitter paths wherein I stray,
Thou knowest Who hast made the Fire,

Thou knowest Who hast made the Clay.

" One stone the more swings to her place
In that dread Temple of Thy Worth
It is enough that through Thy grace
I sa^v naught common on Thy Earth."

But even the reverent sight goes not very far toward ex-
plaining the enchantment of its reproduction.

A very pleasant, well-written, thoroughly wholesome storyf is
Mr. Page's On Newfound River. There is a certain cosmopoli-
tanism in the author's point of view, an absence of aggressive
sectional assertion or equally aggressive sectional deprecation,
which gives his tale a charm which Southern stories, good as they
almost invariably are of late years from the literary stand-point,
do not always possess. The denizens of " Newfound " are present-

* -Life's Handicap. Being Stories of Mine Own People. By Rudyard Kipling. London
and New York : Macmillan & Co.

\On Newfound River. By Thomas Nelson Page. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 139

ed on their merits as members of the human family and the
American people in the first place, and only secondarily as pro-
vincial aristocrats, "poor white trash," and more or less devoted
slaves. It would be hard to say whether Major Landon or his
son is the most lovable character. The latter has the meretricious
advantage of youth and the suffrages of a charming heroine in
his favor. The childish scenes between her and Bruce are very
pretty. The plot of the story is simple and the incidents de-
velop from it naturally. Mr. Page's style is notably free from
mannerisms and affectation. We get another specimen of it, less
fluent, perhaps, but not less unaffected and direct, in the excel-
lent biographical sketch of Thomas Power O'Connor, with which
he has prefaced Cassell's edition of the latter's history of the
Parnell Movement*

A collection f of short stories by Lanoe Falconer (Miss
Hawker) seems to be made up of earlier work than that which
attracted such favorable attention in Mademoiselle Ixe. The
subject in that novelette counted, of course, for much, but not,
or so we supposed, for all that made it remarkable. In the vol-
ume now at hand, while everything is clever in suggestion and
light in touch, distinctly good, in fact, and quite above the
common run of acceptable work, there is nothing that calls for
special notice.

Barring a certainly over-liberal sprinkling of fleas on her pages,
not to speak of cigarette ashes, and certain insects still more
" offensive to ears polite " than fleas, Miss Menie Muriel Bowie's
account \ of her summer in East Galicia will be found to afford
clever and unusual entertainment. Directly or indirectly it will
impart a good deal of information, not only about the Jews,
Poles, and Ruthenians of that region, but also about the young
person who says she travelled alone among them for her own
amusement, but has presumably written about them and herself
for that of other people. It is a long-recognized habit of those
who fly their kind " from sheer, bald preference," to turn around
when at a safe distance, or when they can feign that the cover
of a book makes a barrier instead of an open doorway, and tell
the general public more about themselves than an ordinary com-
panion would have guessed in a year or a life-time. Miss Dowie

*The Parnell Movement. By T. P. O'Connor, M.P. With Sketch of the Author by
Thomas Nelson Page. New York : Cassell Publishing Company.

f The Hotel (T Angleterre, and other Stories. By Lanoe Falconer. New York: Cassell
Publishing Company.

\A Girl in the Karpathians. By Mnie Muriel Dowie. New York : Cassell Publishing
Company.

140 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

lets us know, as it were incidentally, that she is Scotch ; that
when in her own island she rides to hounds on a " beautiful
saddle on the back of a Yorkshire hunter"; that she is not yet
twenty-five ; that her hair is yellow and abundant, and " kept
clean " ; that she takes a daily cold bath, in " wild rivers " by
preference, and that white river-sand in lieu of soap leaves her
with " arms like satin that would not have shamed a nymph " ;
that she smokes, a fact which dispelled for ever from the minds
of the " curious and eager populace " of Kolomyja, her first
stopping place, the notion that she " hailed from certain respec-
table islands"; that her cigarette case, which "happens to have
a coronet engraved upon it," caused her to be mistaken for a
Russian princess ; and that she is " slim " enough to look well
in the tweed coat, knickerbockers, yellow leather leggings, and
Tarn O'Shanter which, with an easily and frequently detached
skirt, made up her travelling costume when once she had pene-
trated into the interior. We learn too that she makes a pocket
companion of Epictetus, greatly admires Henry Thoreau, and has
no religion at least none to speak of. In short, her self-revela-
tions emulate in candor, and not infrequently remind the reader
of, those of Marie Bashkirtseff ; with the important difference
that they never verge on sentimentality or emotion. She is as
cool as one of the wild rivers she loves to swim in, and as self-
contained as an egg. Her style, the free-and-easy way in which
she slings words about, as if so accustomed to handling them as
to feel no misgivings about their hitting the mark, now and
again suggests that of Mr. Kipling.

Concerning the Jews she says that whatever may go on in
Russia, the Jew in Poland has a very fair time. He may live
where he pleases (as Mr. Bendavid, in the current North Ameri-
can, notes that he did there some centuries ago), is not hemmed
into a slatternly quarter by a certain hour at night, has his own
schools, follows what trade he likes, and is at liberty to pursue
indefinitely his religion a privilege he avails himself of every
Saturday afternoon. For the rest, " he is at liberty to best,
out-do, cheat, and take a mean advantage of his less-sharpened
Christian brethren all the other days of the week. This is surely
as much indulgence as any one has a right to expect in any
country." With a practical philosophy which she may have
learned from Epictetus or from Thoreau, but which certainly is
not the usual inheritance of the kinsmen of Dr. McCosh, let us
say, Miss Dowie remarks that to regret the domination of the
Jews over the peasants in all business matters is to take hold

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 141

of the wrong end of the stick. What one might regret is the
unpracticality, lack of enterprise, and disregard of wealth on the
part of the Ruthenians, though, she adds, " if he holds my view
of these things, he will not regret these deficiencies, and will
therefore be satisfied with the reigning systems." The peasant's
ideal differs, not only from that of the Jew, but from that of
Western people of his own condition. He is clever and hardy,
knows his business as a wood-dresser, house-builder, bridge and
embankment maker, or what-not, and after his own fashion is
fond of money. He likes to see it in his hand, but his wants
are too few and simple, and " his quicK intelligence too quick, to
let him add thought to thought and slow endeavor to slow en-
deavor in the hope of making a few more guldens."

She relates an anecdote which serves, at any rate, to illus-
trate her thesis and private point of view. She says that while
she was in Mikuliczyn a man wanted his house roofed with
slats. He went to a peasant whose trade was wood-slat dressing
and setting, and tried to make a contract with him and obtain
an estimate. The peasant would neither accept the one nor give
the other, and in despair the man went to a Jew. The latter at
once accepted the job, and promised an estimate the next day.
Then he went to the very peasant already interviewed on the
matter. " Look here," said he, " I want you to work for me.
I'll give you so much a day for it. You will also have to find
the wood." Then, having extracted all needful particulars, of
which he had no previous personal knowledge, the Jew made an
estimate, set the peasant to work at small daily wages, and
pocketed a handsome profit. Was the peasant idiot enough not
to see through this and regret it ? No, says our Scotch but not
canny observer, he probably saw through it but did not regret it.

" He had a fair prospect of work, no responsibility, and a
moderate wage which he knew would cover his daily expenditure,
and was, in fact, a sum he was accustomed to and knew the
merits of. It was immaterial that the Jew should be pocketing
the guldens. Here in the West, where every one thirsts for
anxiety, and worry, and responsibility, and doesn't think himself
a man unless his forehead is lined and his shoulders bent by a
bitter load of it, this simple peasant would be scoffed at ; but
in that he trammeled not his soul with the things of this world,
and left his mind free to dwell on what it listed of Nature's
wonder problems, while he provided sparingly for the wants of
his body, some old Greek philosopher might have approved of him."

This eclectic young woman finds the United Greek Church
" a commendable compromise between the Romish and the

142 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

Protestant Catholic Churches," having " many of the good, easy,
comfortable points of both. Its pastors may marry, and it en-
courages homage to but not worship of the Virgin Mary." The
pastors, however, or so she says, " practise very considerably up-
on the ignorance and really engaging superstition of their flock "
by delivering " ingenious messages from souls in purgatory " and
so on. Moreover, they exercise no check " upon the blind, unre-
pentant, wholesale immorality of the peasants," etc. There is a
great deal of drunkenness, and no disgrace attaches to the vice,
whether found among men or women. " What do the men
think when they see the young women drunk ?" she asked her
landlady, on seeing one of the prettiest girls reeling down the
road about four in the afternoon. " Do they mind ?" " How
should they mind ?" was the answer. " Are they not drunk too ?"

An amusing chapter is that devoted to "A Study of Polish,"
where the eccentricities of the language with regard to genders
and declensions, both of which extend to verbs, participles, ad-
verbs, and adjectives, give room for some sprightly anecdote
and comment. What is presumably a portrait of the author it
looks like a nice but conceited boy of seventeen or thereabouts
adorns the cover and fills one of the pages of this entirely reada-
ble sketch of an unusual summer outing.

There are several good and well-known names among the
authors who each furnish one of the Eleven Possible Cases* but
there is not a single really good or in anywise remarkable story
in the collection. " Nym Crinkle " supplies that which is most
suggestive, and Joaquin Miller that which is most characteristic
of its author.

A translation f from the French of Georges Ohnet may
generally be counted on as interesting in point of plot and treat-
ment, whatever else may be said about it. The present one, far
inferior to the Iron-Master which made his reputation, in spite
of the disdain of the more fastidious of French critics, still
asserts his power to entertain. Of course the good girl in it is
very good, pious, long-suffering, much put upon, and finally trium-
phant. The counter statement is that her rival is so overweighted
with all the opposite vices that the book is not to be recom-
mended to young readers.

Mr. Snider's " Epopee " \ contains rather more than two hun-

* Eleven Possible Cases. New York.: Cassell Publishing Company.

t A Debt of Hatred. By Georges Ohnet. Translated by E. P. Robins. New York :
' Cassell Publishing Company.

% Homer in Chios. An Epopee. By Denton J. Snider. St. Louis : Sigma Publishing
Company.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 143

dred pages of professedly hexameter verses in which " the good
Homer's " life and adventures, as one might say, are de-
scribed, partly by the poet himself and partly by the author. In
the main the verse is dactylic, though it often changes, and sel-
dom runs smoothly for five lines at a time. However, this was
to be expected, since it is very difficult to write true hexameters
in English : the caesura will insist on appearing in the wrong
place, and the ictus commonly refuses to fall as it should. Mr.
Denton is not a master of prosody, as one should be who under-
takes to write hexameters ; he is even slipshod enough to make
distinct dissyllables of such words as " rhythm," "heaven," and
" dire." For the rest, 'Homer in Chios is trivial, often childish,
and generally sentimental ; even when Homer, who was never
sentimental, is represented as talking. There is not a touch of
Greek antiquity in the whole book, and the English of it is full
of colloquialisms such as are intolerable in a species of versifica-
tion which does not readily lend itself to trifling even in the
" Battle of the Frogs and Mice."

We once heard a Reading Circle told that the habit of read-
ing was one so desirable to form, and so productive of immense
pleasure when formed, that it was better to coax the mental pal-
ate, even with dime novels to begin with, than to leave it en-
tirely without agreeable stimulus. We are bound to add that,
though this counsel proceeded from a competent judge and
skilled producer of literature bearing no likeness to the dime
novel, it seemed at the time to have a ring about it offensive to
judicious, not to say " pious" ears. But for those to whom it is
appropriate advice and further reflection has persuaded us that
there are such a very good specimen of what the dime novel
generally aims at excitement, adventure, incident, savages, gold-
hunting, and the like we recommend Bras d'Acier.* It will
harm nobody, and may be counted on to entertain greatly many
young folks whom no other sort of reading would entertain at
all. The hero is a very good fellow indeed, and the episode and
character of the young Breton, Loie Kermainguy, are full of nice
feeling.

An excellent story, good in plot, incident, characters, style
and feeling, is Mrs. Walworth's New Man at Rossmere.\ The
" new man " is an intelligent and high-principled Northerner,
Major Denny, who takes up his abode in an " unreconstructed "

* Bras d'Acier, or On the Gold-Path in '49. Adapted from the French of Alfred de
Brehat by A. Estoclet. New York : Cassell Publishing Company.

t The New Man at Rossmere. By Mrs. J. H. Walworth. New York : Cassell Publish-
ing Company.

144 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

Southern neighborhood, indicated as to locality only by the
words describing it as one of u the drowsy little shipping points
strung along the treacherous banks of the Mississippi like tawdry
beads on an untrustworthy string." The incidents the author
vouches for as of actual occurrence, and they have a natural
logic and sequence which belong to truth. The story we have
no mind to outline even had we space. It is a good lesson in
morals, manners, political economy, sectional and race prejudices,
as well as in honest love-making, given in an urbane and tem-
perate fashion we find unusually praiseworthy. And as such it
is worth recommending on its own merits. Mrs. Walworth has
a pleasant and at times an epigrammatic way of making her

points.

I. A CHRISTIAN APOLOGY.*

We welcome heartily the second volume of this very able
work, which has cost the translators as well as the author a
great deal of labor, entitling them to our gratitude.

The present volume treats of the questions raised by Biblical
Criticism and the Comparative History of Religions. In the
Translator's Preface, the danger to the Protestant Rule of Faith
from the attacks of the so-called Higher Criticism on the his-
torical foundations of Revealed Religion is clearly pointed out.
Also, the alarming fact, that Protestants are generally opening
the gate to the enemy by their concessions. This is not true
of the entire learned body of Protestant teachers and writers,
in this country at least. But it is very generally true, and the
effect upon one part of the people is to destroy or weaken
their faith in supernatural religion. Others, who hold with
great tenacity to the religion they have been taught in child-
hood, are alarmed by the contradictory opinions of men who
seem to have equal claims on their respect for learning and
ecclesiastical office. Catholics have a divine and infallible autho-
rity to fall back upon. Still, it is a great advantage to have
knowledge of the grounds and reasons of the faith which they
receive on the authority of the church. Hence the importance
and value of the present volume, which is the product of deep
and extensive learning and accurate critical scholarship.

The modern critics assert that the history of religion as
described in the Old Testament is merely a branch of the re-
ligious history of the Semites and to be treated according to

* A Christian Apology. By Paul Schanz, D.D. Translated by Rev. Michael F. Glancey
and Rev. Victor J. Schobel, D.D. Vol. II., God and Revelation. New York : Pustet &
Co. 1891.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 145

the principles of evolution, and that the religion of Israel and
of all other nations was in the beginning polytheistic. The
Catholic doctrine is, that Monotheism is the beginning, Polythe-
ism the decay of religion ; and that in the religion of the patri-
archs and of Israel a supernatural element, a special revelation
from God must be recognized. This is the thesis of the volume.

The author goes through the history of the religions of the
Indo-Germanic race, of the Hamites and Semites, of the un-
civilized peoples, of Judaism and Islamism, and finally of Chris-
tianity ; after which he proceeds to a discussion of the great
topic of Revelation and the questions therewith connected, con-
cluding with an exposition of the character, life, and mission of
Christ, the one great object of all revelation. This finishes what
is strictly speaking the Apology for Christianity. The third
volume contains the Apology for the Church of Christ.

We cannot too highly and cordially commend this most
learned and unique work of Dr. Schanz.

2. HAND-BOOK OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.*

A Theology for the laity has long been a desideratum. The
want is now supplied. Father Wilmers' Hand-book has enjoyed
for twenty years a high reputation in Germany. We have it now
in an excellent English translation and published in good style.
It is intended as a text-book for colleges and higher schools for
young ladies. Also for study and reference by those who need
and can understand theological and controversial argument. It
is like our Latin compendiums of theology, though more elemen-
tary and succinct, and is fully equal to the best of them. It is
up to the mark of modern science, and so far as its theology
goes beyond what is strictly of faith, it is in accord with the
system of that school which, in our opinion, is on the whole the
best. We can, therefore, most heartily recommend it as contain-
ing a secure doctrine. For the educated laity it will prove to
be an invaluable acquisition, and we predict for it a wide cir-
culation. Priests having a pastoral charge and teachers who
have to give religious instruction will also find it to be a treasure.

3. A VOLUME OF LETTERS.f

December 28> 1886, Father George Porter, S.J., then rector

* Hand-book of the Christian Religion. For the use of advanced Students and the edu-
cated Laity. By Rev. W. Wilmers, S.J. From the German, edited by Rev. James Conway,
S.J., Canisius College, Buffalo, N. Y. Net price, $1.50. New York : Benziger Bros. 1891.

t The Letters of the late Father George Porter \ S.J.^ Archbishop of Bombay. London :
Burns & Gates ; New York : The Catholic Publication Society Co.

146 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

of the Jesuit house at Farm Street, London, received his ap-
pointment to the Archbishopric of Bombay. Here are his own
words announcing the fact to a friend : " Yesterday's post brought
me a very terrible letter from the Propaganda. The Holy Fa-
ther has named me Archbishop of Bombay. You may imagine
my grief and consternation. Pray much for me." In another letter
from Farm Street, dated January 9, 1887, he says: "Indeed the
nomination did come to me as a blow ; I have not recovered from
it. I have no choice. I must say, ' Lord, I am thy servant ; send
me where thou wilt.' " These words give us some slight insight
into the character of the man whose letters are before us. The
editors have put together and published in one volume such
letters of Archbishop Porter as they were able to obtain. As the
editors in the preface to the book hint at a second volume, it
will readily be seen that the archbishop was a facile letter-
writer. Those from Fiesole are most charming. Indeed, there
is not a dull letter in the book. You catch glimpses of his
work, of people, works of art and his notion of them, traits and
customs of the Italians, sketches of shrines and churches ; and
through all a running comment on most of the new books of
the time, with his estimate of works both philosophical and theo-
logical. In almost every letter there is spiritual advice and con-
solation, such as a father confessor might write to any constant
penitent. But all is catchy, bright, gossipy almost, after the
manner of a good letter-writer. Letter-writing is an art, and
Archbishop Porter surely possessed it. Of Bombay and India
we get much and little little of the actual state of the church
and clergy ; but we should hardly expect more in familiar letters.
There is much of places, climate, persons, etc. ; something of
classes and castes, some good stories for example, the tiger-kill-
ing colonel and something of the social state. Entertaining and
delightful from beginning to end are these letters from Bombay.
It is astonishing how much the archbishop was able to read and
write, notwithstanding the great burden of administering a dio-
cese in which long and difficult journeys had to be made, and
frequently in a climate most difficult for Europeans to endure.
That he read and wrote much his letters give ample evidence.
He translated and published a work of Dr. Hettinger's while in
India. He kept posted on current literature. In a letter of
October 5, 1888, he gives his estimate of Robert Elsmere, and
at the same time has a sound rap at Mrs. Ward, the author.
In another letter, April 17, 1889, he speaks of another novel,
The New Antigone. He tells us this bit of gossip about it :

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 147

"Curiously enough it {The New Antigone'} was eagerly sought
for by our most educated natives, non-Christian." One would
like to hear an Indo-pagan critique of this book. And so the
letters run on, telling of his difficulties in learning a new lan-
guage with a pagan for an instructor, of his trips about his
diocese, etc.

In 1855 Charles Dickens wrote to Macready : "Daily seeing
improper uses made of confidential letters in the addressing of
them to a public audience that has no business with them, I
made, not long ago, a great fire in my field at Gads Hill and
burnt every letter I possessed." Now, we will not say that, in
the publication of these letters of Archbishop Porter, they were
put to an improper use. But it is our opinion that they could
have been put to a better use. They might have served as the
foundation for an excellent life of the archbishop. Surely his
life was truly apostolic, an exemplar to all missionary priests,
filled with hard labor and the cross, filled too with zeal for
souls and a tender, sweet pity that will make him loved by all
who come to know him through these pages. There is men-
tion made of Father Porter, S.J., of the Island of Jamaica,
the brother of the Archbishop of Bombay. The writer of this
notice knew one who lived and worked in the Island of Jamaica
under Father Porter's authority. From all he recalls of much
that was told him of this apostle of this island of the Western
Indies, he would say of both brothers that they were true sons of
St. Ignatius and of Holy Church, children of grace and benediction.

4. A VOLUME OF HISTORICAL ESSAYS.*

If we were to determine the scholarship of this volume by
the first essay it contains, " Primitive Rights of Women," we
should not assign it a very high grade. At page 3 we find the
following: "Starting from the assumption that the wife was in
origin a slave, either by capture or by purchase, the commonly
received theory of her escape from this degradation assumed a
gradual rise in the moral standard of civilized society, and finally
attributed the complete triumph of women to the influence of
Christianity, with its high moral ideals and its passionate adora-
tion of the Virgin Mother." When and where and by whom in
all Christianity, whether primitive or more recent, was there ever
a passionate adoration of the Virgin Mother? At page 36 in the
same lecture is the following : " Historians, aware of this influ-
ence " viz., woman's control of the ethical tendencies of laws

* Historical Essays. By Henry Adams. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.
VOL. LIV. 10

148 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

"have naturally assumed that the elevation of women from what
was supposed to have been their previous condition of degrada-
tion and servitude was due to the humanitarian influence of the
church. In truth, the share of the church in the elevation of
women was for the most part restricted to a partial restoration
of rights which the church herself had a principal share in tak-
ing away from them." In truth, this is wonderful. Here we
have a Lowell Institute lecturer in just eight lines of seventy-
two words setting all history aright and knocking all historians
about the ears for their assumption of a fact which was in reality
a blunder. In truth, this is wonderful.

A far better essay, both in value and interest, is the fourth of
the volume, " Napoleon I. at St. Domingo." This essay is a bit
of historical criticism. It is of value because the author repro-
duces Leclerc's letters to Decres and Leclerc's to the First Con-
sul, and Napoleon's statement, given at St. Helena twenty years
after the event, of the attempted subjugation of St. Domingo.
Mr. Adams's study and inferences of Napoleon's intentions, in the
light of Leclerc's letters, are lucid and convincing. In view of
recent events in the West Indies the essay is of interest. A
more entertaining, if less valuable, essay is the third of the series,
Harvard College, 1786-1787. As to the worth of Mr. Adams's
deductions on methods employed then and now in imparting in-
struction, let those engaged in matters of education judge. The
extracts from a student's diary for the years 1786-1787 will en-
tertain any old collegian. Boys are boys the world over and
through the ages, and these extracts from a diary written at
Harvard in 1786-87 might have been written at our own Alma
Mater over in New Jersey in 1870-1874. Besides the essays
mentioned the volume contains six others. It also contains what
all books on serious subjects should have, an excellent index.
The work is from the University Press and may be commended
for the excellence and beauty of the typography.

5. A HISTORY OF ENGLAND.*

Although this little work has been written for the use of
Catholic schools in the Dominion of Canada, it seems to us that
it might with profit be introduced into such of our schools in
the United States as make the study of English history a part of
their curriculum. A careful perusal of its pages will convince
the reader who is conversant with our text-books that we Amer-

* Catholic School History of England. By a Catholic Teacher. Montreal and Toronto:
James A. Sadlier.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 149

icans have nothing of the kind equally as good, either in our
Catholic or so-called non-sectarian schools.

The book, without being colorless, is both fair and impartial,
and the conversational tone adopted by the author in telling
this story of England is exceedingly pleasing to the young. To
judge from the school histories which the greater number of
school historians turn out one would be inclined to believe that
impartiality and fairness are only to be attained by chronology ;
and that anything in the way of a picture beyond the merest
outline in black is to be avoided as one of the deadly sins.
Again, there are the little imitators of Froude who give us his
distortions without their undeniable and vivid color, and who call
their efforts portraits. Into neither of these errors has the au-
thor of the Catholic School History of England fallen. After a
brief introduction he divides his history into periods : Saxon,
Norman, Angevin, Lancaster, York, Tudor, Stuart, and Hanove-
rian ; under each period making us very well acquainted with
each one of the long list of personages who have governed
England, and with the English people themselves ; their political
and social condition, religion, industries, and progress. Perhaps
if the author had had more space he could have given us a
fuller account of English literature.

6. ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE ROSSI.*

We are glad to see a new edition of Lady Herbert's able
translation of the life of this great saint, so rightly styled the
model and patron of the secular clergy. " Nor," to quote the
preface to this edition, " should this canonized priest's life be
less dear to the devout laity. In St. John Baptist de Rossi they
see the model of their own pastors, whose virtues are too often
forgotten in our church-building and school-building days." Fur-
ther on Father Slattery says, in this preface, speaking of the
Bishop of Salford's introduction to the life: " It is a perfect 'vade
mecum,' exhibiting in every page the touch of the Holy Spirit."
. . . " It is a pity it is not published separately, and put into
the hands of every priest and seminarian."

The timeliness and value of the bishop's introduction, as ;\vell
as of Father Slattery's preface, will be appreciated by all who
are so fortunate as to have it fall into their hands.

Besides our warmest and most heartfelt wishes for its wide
circulation we say nothing further , of this valuable book, as a
former edition has been noticed at length in our pages.

* The Life of St. John Baptist de Rossi. From the Italian, by Lady Herbert. Baltimore :
John Murphy & Co.

150 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

/. SUGGESTIONS OF DEVOTION.*

This little work is meant to be a help to souls striving to
lead a spiritual life and who are desirous of attaining perfection.
It is compiled from various sources : the very beautifully-worded
translation of the meditations entitled "The Little Grain of
Wheat " with which the book begins, and from which it takes
its name, is from the French. Aside from their spiritual value
we would say of these meditations that they form an exquisite
prose poem well worth a perusal for their literary merit if for
nothing else. And we believe, for whatever reason they be read,
they will drop a good seed in the heart of the reader. Besides
the well-known " Hour before the Blessed Sacrament," the book
contains the original of the " Jesus Psalter" and the "Hundred
Meditations on the Passion " of Blessed Henry Suso, together
with a short talk on vocal and mental prayer.

The Little Grain of Wheat will, we have no doubt, be all
that its compiler desires, " of assistance to souls."

8. "HEAR YE HIM."f

If a number of the spiritual writers of our times give us very
much butter and little bread, slim dinners and sumptuous des-
serts, they are but doing what is best to attract the numerous
ones who, so far from being willing to crack a nut to gain its
kernel, disdain the kernel unless encased in a sugar-plum. We
have no quarrel with these writers ; they know their public,
and blessed is he who, with the great Apostle of the Gentiles,
can be " all things to all men." Paradoxical as it may seem, it
is true that the grand masters of the spiritual life who lived and
wrote in the three centuries preceding our own, and who gave so
profusely of their rich store of delicious meats and wholesome
bread, are as eagerly sought, perhaps more eagerly sought, to-
day than they were in the times in which they labored.

This little work of St. Jure's needs no commendation, least
of all from the writer of this notice, though he will permit him-
self to say that in going over the book he w,as reverently im-
pressed for the author when he saw how much matter had
been compressed into little paragraphs, many of them containing
not more than a score of words. Of this Cardinal Gibbons
says in his introduction : " The concentration of these spiritual
forces can hardly fail to capture the citadel of the soul."

*The Little Grain of Wheat. Compiled by F. A. Spencer, O.P. Boston: Thomas B.
Noonan & Co.

f Christ Our Teacher. From the French of Father J. B. St. Jure, S. J. The Introduction
by Cardinal Gibbons. Baltimore : McCauley & Kilner.

1891.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 151

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ALL COMMUNICATIONS RELATING TO READING CIRCLES, LISTS OF BOOKS,
ETC., SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, NO.
415 WEST FIFTY-NINTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY.

AMONG the numerous letters sent to us for information con-
cerning the selection of books, we are pleased to notice many
indications showing that the movement in favor of Reading Cir-
cles has aided the growth of parish libraries. Several priests
have asked for suggestions to assist them in starting circulating
libraries for their parishioners. As it is clearly impossible to
write a lengthy answer to each communication, we will here give
the desired information by a detailed account of the parochial
library established in the Church of St. Paul the Apostle, New
York City, under the care of the Paulist Fathers. It has lately
been moved into new and commodious quarters on Columbus
Avenue, near Fifty-ninth Street. Ever since its formation, about
twenty years ago, the members of the Christian Doctrine Society
have generously supplied the books necessary to make this
library a missionary power in defence of Catholic truth. The
rules of this library have been generally approved as worthy of
being copied by those desiring to establish a parish library. A
statement of the conditions of membership, and the rules for
the return of books, is here given :

" The members pay their annual dues one dollar in Sep-
tember ; no deduction made for those who join after that date.

" Privileges are not transferable, and do not extend beyond
the month of June.

"A book may be kept two weeks. If kept over that time a
fine will be charged of ten cents per week.

" Books lost or damaged must be paid for. Any member
failing to comply with this rule forfeits, instantly, all privileges.

" The librarian is authorized to require each applicant for
books to show a card of membership."

The members of the Ozanam Reading Circle have access to
this library, and are allowed an extension of time in the use of
books for special courses of reading. This society has for its
object the improvement of its members in literary taste. It is

152 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Oct.,

composed of Catholic women residing in different sections of
New York City, who meet together once a week in an informal
and friendly way to talk about books, Catholic books especially,
to take part in carefully selected literary exercises, readings from
the best authors, recitations and essays. The library gives them
exceptional facilities for getting the choicest specimens of mod-
ern literature, and a liberal supply of the latest stories. It con-
tains all books approved by the Columbian Reading Union.
* # #

From the preface to the printed catalogue of books we learn
that the parochial library was founded by the Paulist Fathers to
foster a love for good reading, and to accumulate gradually an
extensive collection of the very best books. When new publica-
tions are procured a printed supplement will be added to this
catalogue. On account of the improvements that have been
made, it is hoped that the library will now be a centre of at-
traction for all who wish to find books that may be read profit-
ably. In choosing the recent selections, particularly in the de-
partment of fiction, proper allowance has been made for diversity
of taste, and the varied intellectual qualifications of readers.
The aim has been to exclude literary rubbish as well as immoral,
mendacious, and useless books of all kinds.

This is an age in which, to some extent, reading has become
a necessity for everybody. The number of books published an-
nually is so great that few persons are able to select those which
are suitable from a Catholic stand-point. What to read is now-
adays a question of real difficulty to many, and especially to
young people. With the varied character of the productions of
the press, with a press that lends itself as well to the dissemina-
tion of error in matters religious, historical, and social as it does
to the advancement of the true and useful, guidance in the selec-
tion of reading matter is of the utmost importance. Life is not
long enough to allow time to read all the books that are printed ;
therefore it is advisable to adopt some plan by which the best
among them can be secured.

Now, the library assumes the office of a guide in such mat-
ters. The fact that a book has a place on its catalogue is a
guarantee that it contains safe and useful reading. In some of
the books written by non-Catholics a few lines and passages may
be inaccurate, though the other merits which they possess make
them attractive and useful to intelligent readers. Such books
have been admitted only because their defects are more than

1891.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 153

counterbalanced by their literary excellence and other good qual-
ities.

5f -X- -X-

As might be expected, the library is well supplied with works
on spiritual and doctrinal subjects. It is hardly necessary to
state that such reading is of supreme importance for every Catho-
lic. The writings of the saints and of the great defenders of the
faith should be studied attentively by all who wish to advance
in the way of perfection and to protect themselves from the per-
nicious influence of those who, by word, by example, and by the
power of the press, inculcate indifferentism and infidelity. The
church needs, in this century especially, enlightened members
who can give a reason for the faith which they believe, and who
have the knowledge requisite to defend the truths of religion.
Hence it is the duty of every loyal Catholic to make the best
use of his opportunities in diffusing correct information concern-
ing the teachings of the Catholic Church. The advantages to be
derived from spiritual reading are manifold. Father Faber says:
" Other things being equal, a person beginning the spiritual life
with a taste for reading has much greater chance of advancing
and persevering than one destitute of such a taste. It is not
easy to think out for ourselves even very obvious things. Read-
ing suggests them to us. We gain time by appropriating through
books the experience of others."

x- # *

The nucleus of the present library was formed for the work
of St. Paul's Christian Doctrine Society. Catholics can do much
good by assisting inquiring Protestants to obtain books explain-
ing the points of difference between the church and the various
sects. The members of the library are urgently exhorted to take
an active interest in this matter, and to become missionaries in
their own sphere for the conversion of those who know not
where to find the true Church of Christ.

The utility of history as a branch of private reading is un-
deniable. It has been called " The witness of ages, the torch
of truth, the interpreter of the past." History is an immense
repository whence we may with little labor derive extensive
knowledge of the human race. The true glories of the present
century cannot be properly estimated by one who is ignorant of
what happened during the centuries of the past. Great truths
and important lessons drawn from the study of history are often
embodied in the pleasing form of a story. In this way real facts

154 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Oct.,

may be utilized and presented most forcibly by the inventive
power of the imagination. With this object in view many his-
torical novels have been constructed by eminent scholars. The
story of Fabiola, by Cardinal Wiseman, and that of Callista, by
Cardinal Newman, are worthy to be ranked among the best
specimens of this class of books.

x- * *

The members of St. Paul's Parochial Library are provided in
the catalogue with some thoughts of the most advanced thinkers
on the subject of fiction, which are here given :

" Though other good books are abundant, the majority of
readers nowadays show a decided preference for those books
that appeal chiefly to the imagination. There are well-written
books, adorned with all the charms of classic language, in the
various departments of human thought, containing treasures of
valuable information that enlighten the mind and develop the
power of reason, and yet they cannot compete with the novel in
popularity. Why is it that novel-reading has become so preva-
lent ? Is it because the novel is more interesting or more pro-
fitable than other books? The reason is doubtless to be found
in the fact that there is something very attractive in the repre-
sentation of human life by the skilful delineation of individual
characters. Inasmuch as it is a product of the imagination,
though it may be based on fact, the novel can enlist in its favor
much of the embellishment that adorns poetry. There are
some who claim for the novel the dignity assigned to the epic.
One thing is certain, that in the writing of a novel the imagina-
tion should be compelled to respect the dictates of reason,
otherwise it will take rank as an irrational, idiotic composition,
fit only for minds diseased. Though the inventive skill of fancy
may predominate in its production, nevertheless a novel should
bear the same relation to fact that the portrait does to the per-
son. It should be, in the main, a photograph of real life ; it
should furnish ideal heroes and heroines, not only worthy of im-
itation but capable of being imitated. Owing to the disregard
of these rational limitations some novels are merely amusing,
some are nonsensical, some are positively dangerous, especially
for young people whose minds are not fully developed.

"Fictitious narratives have been used to suggest reforms, as in
the book called Utopia, written by Sir Thomas More in the six-
teenth century, during the reign of Henry VIII. No one can
deny the utility of this form of writing for certain purposes,
when artistic merit is combined with good subject-matter. The
good novel may furnish a wholesome relaxation, may even im-
prove the mind and teach valuable lessons. The novelist can in
various ways defend morality and elucidate the discoveries of
science. Consequently it may be safely declared that the judi-

1891.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. .155

cious use of good novels can be interesting and at the same
time beneficial; while indiscriminate novel-reading is- always in-
jurious, if for no other reason, because it is a waste of precious

time."

* * *

The members of the Columbian Reading Union may obtain
on application a gratuitous copy of the catalogue which has been
prepared for the parish library under the care of the Paulist
Fathers. Within the scope of seventy-two pages it gives a varied
assortment of the best books. For the extension of the good
work we shall undertake to send a copy of the catalogue to any
one on receipt of ten cents in postage-stamps. As our funds
are limited, we cannot be expected to send circulars and book-
lists to those who send their requests on postal cards, and give
nothing to defray the expense. Gladly would we send gratis to
every applicant the documents thus far printed by the Colum-
bian Reading Union, and others which are planned, if some
millionnaire would bear the cost of production and transporta-
tion. While waiting for the generous benefactor to appear we
shall cheerfully do whatever our means will permit to continue
the work of diffusing good literature.

M. C. M.

156 WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Oct.,

WITH THE PUBLISHER.

THE requirements of the other departments of the magazine
for this issue have reduced the Publisher to a scanty two pages.
The notes he intended for this issue will, therefore, be postponed
till the November number. He wishes, however, to remind his
readers that this is the season of an activity the more pro-
nounced now that the heat and the holidays are over. He
would ask of his readers some share in this activity in behalf
of THE CATHOLIC WORLD.

The summer was apparent in the size of his daily mail, but
that was in a measure to be expected. There ought to be a
change in this now. He ought to have more new subscribers,
more applications for sample copies, and more general evidence
that the readers of the magazine are making it more widely
known and substantially appreciated. If responsibility rests with
author and publisher, there is much that rests with the reader
as well. The reading public of to-day is a large factor in the
possibilities of the periodical literature of to-day. If the ten-
dency of such literature is irreligious and pernicious, it is largely
due to the fact that it can secure a public. This, of course,
is obvious, but experience teaches nothing so clearly as the
necessity of being reminded of obvious things. The conclusion

is plain, the duty in this respect is no less so.

The Publisher is tempted to say something of good example,
but he will let a certain fact do the talking. The announcement
last month of the renewal of the order given by one of our
subscribers to send THE CATHOLIC WORLD "where it would do
the most good," and the recital of the good it had accom-
plished, caused two others to imitate his example. Eight dollars
have been received at this office to be devoted to the same
mission, and to reap, under God, the same fruit. Such facts
have an eloquence of their own, and need no comment. But
the Publisher means to watch the issue, and to tell the result so
far as it may be told.

The Publisher acknowledges the receipt of fifty dollars for
the benefit of the sisters in Alaska, an account of whose mission
was published in the January (1891) number of the magazine.
The money has been duly forwarded, and its receipt acknowl-
edged with many grateful thanks to the unknown donor.

1891.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. i57

The Catholic Publication Society Co. has just published :

A Nun : Her Friends and Her Order. Being a sketch of
the life of Mother Xaveria Fallen. By Katherine Tynan,

Cardinal Newman. Reminiscences of fifty years since. By
one of his oldest living disciples, William Lockhart, B.A.
Oxon.

Letters on Subjects of the Day. By Cardinal Manning. Ed-
ited by John Oldcastle.

Life of Blessed John Juvenal Ancina. By Rev. Charles
Henry Bqwden, of the Oratory.

The same firm has in press :

A Brief Text-Book on Mental Philosophy. By Rev. Charles

Coppens, S.J.
The Primer; or, Office of the B. V. M., and Office for the

Dead, in English.

The Catholic Family Annual for 1892, which will be ready
during the first week in October. The cover will be a
pure white, and will bear the arms of Columbus, hand-
somely lithographed.

Mr. J. C. Heywood, who has just been named by the Pope
as one of his private chamberlains, was a newspaper writer in
New York up to about fifteen years ago. In 1867 he put out,
through the publishing firm of Hurd & Houghton, three vol-
umes of dramatic poems, entitled Herodias, Antonius, and Salome.
He is also the author of a novel, Lady Merton, published by the
Catholic Publication Society Co., and of other works. Mr. Hey-
wood is a graduate of Harvard, and became a newspaper writer
in New York soon after his graduation. While engaged in -liter-
ary work he married a wealthy American widow, a member of
the Roman Catholic Church, to which he became a convert.
About ten or twelve years ago they went to Rome, where they
have since resided.

Harper & Brothers' announcement of publications in October
includes : The Warwickshire Avon, by A. T. Quiller-Couch, pro-
fusely illustrated from drawings by Alfred Parsons ; Literary
Landmarks of Edinburgh, by Laurence Hutton, illustrated by
Joseph Pennell ; Art and Criticism, a series of monographs and
studies, by Theodore Child ; Studies in the Wagnerian Drama,
by Henry E. Krehbiel ; and The Spanish- American Republics, by
Theodore Child. They will also issue very shortly 'the first vol-
ume of The Collected Writings and Memoirs of the late Field-
Marshal Count Helmut /i Von Moltke, which describes the Franco-
German War of 1870-71.

158 BOOKS RECEIVED. [Oct., 1891.

An English edition of Dr. Carl Peter's New Light on Dark
Africa has been issued by Ward, Lock & Co., 35 Bond Street,
New York.

A new Latin dictionary is to be published at the expense of
the Prussian government. It is to be under the editorship of
Professor Martin Hertz, of Breslau, and will surpass in magni-
tude and completeness all Latin lexicons hitherto published. It
is estimated that the work will occupy fully eighteen years and
will cost nearly one million marks.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

COMPENDIUM THEOLOGLE MORALIS. Aloysio Sabetti, SJ. Ra-
tisbon, New York, and Cincinnati : Fr. Pustet & Co.

SIMPLICITY IN PRAYER. From the French. New York, Cincin-
nati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

PICTORIAL PRAYER-BOOK. New York: Catholic Publication
Society Co.

HAND-BOOK OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. By the Rev. W.
Wilmers, S.J. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger
Bros.

A CHRISTIAN APOLOGY. By Paul Schanz, D.D., Ph.D. Vol. II.
New York and Cincinnati : Fr. Pustet & Co.

THE SCIENCE OF THE SAINTS IN PRACTICE. By John Baptist
Pagani, of the Institute of Charity. Vol. III. London:
Burns & Oates ; New York : Catholic Publication Society Co.

THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST ACCORDING TO THE GOSPEL HIS-
TORY. By the Rev. A. J. Maas, S.J. St. Louis: B.
Herder.

CHRISTMAS-TlDE. By Eliza Allen Starr. Chicago : Published by
the author, No. 299 Huron St.

THE CEREMONIES OF THE HOLY MASS EXPLAINED. By the
Rev. F. X. Schouppe, S.J. Translated by the Rev. P. F.
O'Hare. Second edition. New York and Cincinnati : Fr.
rf Pustet & Co.

POSITIVE RELIGION. By Joseph Henry Allen. Boston : Roberts
Brothers.

THE SONGS OF SAPPHO. By James S. Easby-Smith. Washing-
ton : Stormont & Jackson.

PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.

AGNOSTICISM. By the Rt. Rev. J. L. Spalding, D.D. St. Paul:
Catholic Truth Society.

ENCYCLICAL OF POPE LEO. XIII. St. Paul : Catholic Truth
Society.

PURGATORY. By the Rev. H. A. Brown,- D.D. St. Paul: Cath-
olic Truth Society.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LIV. NOVEMBER, 1891. No. 320.

THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER.

CHAPTER XXXV.
CONCLUSION.

FATHER HECKER'S prayer during all these years was a state
of what seemed almost uninterrupted contemplation of varied
intensity. He attended the evening meditation of the com-
munity as long as he had strength to do so, frequently giving a
commentary on the points read out at the beginning, simple,
direct, and fervent. He was exceedingly fond of assisting at
High Mass on Sundays and feast days, and he had a small
oratory built between the house and the new church, from which,
by passing a few steps from his room, he could hear the music
and see the function through a window opening into the sanc-
tuary. This often overpowered him with emotion, which was
sometimes so strong as to drive him back to his room and into
bed. Once a week and on the more solemn festivals was as often
as he could say Mass, or even hear it, on account of his ex-
treme weakness in the mornings. For the last three or four
years of his life to say Mass at all became a struggle which was
as curious as it was distressing to witness. Those who had often
read of such things in the lives of the servants of God were
nevertheless amazed at the sight of them in Father Hecker.
The following is from a memorandum :

''Father Hecker : Do you know what it is to be in sponta-
neous relations with God where the Divine Object works upon the
soul spontaneously? It is that which prevents me from saying
Mass, because I make a fool of myself. At any point I am apt
to be so influenced by God as to be utterly deprived of physical

160 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Nov.,

force, to sink down helpless. At my brother's house they expect
it and get me a chair. A few moments on a chair, and I am
ready to go on. Now, if I yield to this I know that I shall be
thrown into a clean helpless state, and I have a practical work
to do. Question : Does this effect come at receiving Commu-
nion ? Answer: I don't know, as I have never yet received
Communion out of Mass. But I am afraid of it. Any such
thing is apt to throw me off, and I am afraid. Question : But
suppose it to be God's will that you should say Mass notwith-
standing this difficulty? Answer: Then let Him bring it about."

At one time several months passed, months of very low
vitality in body and awful darkness of soul, during which he
neither said Mass nor received Communion. The following
memorandum describes how this period, perhaps the most pain-
ful of his life, was ended :

" Christmas, 1885. For the first time since early summer
Father Hecker undertook to say Mass : I assisted him, and a
stormy time we had of it. It was at five in the morning and in
the oratory. He wanted to have the door locked, but there was
no key. ' Don't speak a word to me,' he said while he was
dressing in his room. Arrived in the oratory, he sank down
upon a bench as if some one had struck him ; he threw his
birettum down on the floor, and began to weep and cry in a.
very mournful way and aloud. But he quickly recovered, and
rested as if he were preparing to be hanged. I supported him
over to the altar, and as he began the Judica he blubbered out
the words like a school-boy being whipped. Most of the Mass
he said out loud, hardly holding in his sobs anywhere except from
the hanc igitur till near the Pater Noster. His calmest time was
during that most solemn part, and at his Communion. Three or
four times he was forced to sit down on a chair I had provided
for him on the predella. At the Memento for the living he was
deeply affected and patted the floor with his foot, sobbing aloud
and acting like a child with an unendurable toothache. He was
afraid of the Pater Noster and asked me to say it with him,
which I did ; also various words and sentences in other parts of
the Mass. I have heard him say that the Pater Noster is a
prayer which breaks him down. After he was through he in-
sisted on trying to say the Pope's prayers. We said the Hail
Marys and the Hail, Holy Queen, together, and I recited the
prayer for him. I had to take off his vestments the best I
could while he sat, and when I got him down to his room and

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 161

into bed, he was in a state of nearly complete unconsciousness.
After saying my three Masses, I saw him again at about 8.30,
found him up and dressed and very bright, and he has been
particularly so all day."

What follows is from a letter dated early in 1886, and seems
to refer to the occasion above described. He speaks of himself
in the third person :

"And he [Father Hecker] was never so occupied as now,
although he is doing nothing and has been in that condition for
months. Though he does hear Mass, he does not, because he
cannot, say it without showing what a big fool he is. However
he has begun again to say it. If it had not been for human
respect he would not have said it last Sunday; he was too fee-
ble. God is killing him by slow fire, by inches. He dies
terribly hard."

If Father Hecker had had an unimpaired physical system
when his interior trials came, he might have resisted the ner-
vous depression which they ca.used, at least well enough to
maintain an active part in his undertakings. Or if his bodily
weakness, resulting from his early austerities, had been accom-
panied with interior equanimity, he might have held up. A
rickety ship can, with care and skill, get into port if the engine
is sound, and so can a sound ship with a broken-down engine
sail home, however slowly. But with both a rickety ship and a dis-
abled engine the port should be near at hand or there is danger
of shipwreck. That Father Hecker did not die long before he
did, was due, apart from God's special designs, to the extraordi-
nary skill and care of Doctor James Begen, who was also an
attached friend. Mr. Anthony Ellis, one of his former penitents,
served him in his sick-room out of pure love from 1879 until his
death, which preceded Father Hecker's by about a year. He
had a kind-hearted successor in Mr. Patrick McCann.

Father Hecker's beloved brother George died on February
14, 1888. He had been ailing for some time and Father Hecker
went to see him frequently. " George and I," he once said,
" were united in a way no words can describe. Our union was
something extremely spiritual and divine." The following memo-
randum tells how Father Hecker received the news :

" George Hecker died about nine o'clock last night, and when

I informed Father Hecker of it this morning he was deeply

moved. ' Don't say a word to me ! ' he cried, * not a word.

Read something! Read something quick!' I stepped over to

VOL. LIV. 1 1

162 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Nov.,

the table and took the Scriptures and began to read the thir-
teenth chapter of St. John, read it through, and another chapter.
By that time he calmed down. He only wept twice, except a
few little sobs, and went out riding as usual this afternoon. He
is profoundly moved. ' I knew it,' he said this morning ; ' I saw
it, I saw it last night it seemed to me that I saw it. I came
near coming to your room at half-past ten, but concluded not
to do so.' Another time to-day he said : * If God enables me to
bear this I hope I shall be able to do my allotted work.' "

He bore it well, but it added very much to a burden already
too heavy. For some weeks afterwards he now and then
moaned and wept for his brother, and this happened occasionally
till summer came. Those who attended Father Hecker could
not but be convinced, from what they saw and heard, that God
allowed George to visit his brother more than once after his
death, and these supernatural interviews were productive of
mingled consolation of soul and pain of body to the survivor.
George Hecker was worthy of his brother's love. He was a
noble character, full of that sort of religion nowadays most
needed. His piety flourished in the withering atmosphere of
wealth and in the turmoil of commercial life. Industry, thrift,
enterprise, quick perception of opportunities, determination, a
keen sense of his rights and a bold hand to defend them,
manly frankness, were conspicuous traits in him and made
him a rich merchant. But all these qualities served him as
well for high spiritual ends. . He was essentially and domi-
nantly a spiritual man, fond of prayer, regular in all reli-
gious duties. He was as honest as the day, and all for con-
science' sake and the love of God. His understanding was wide
and clear, his heart tender, simple, and courageous. He loved
his wife and children, he loved his brother Isaac, with an absorb-
ing devotedness, and these loves were blended and mingled into
one with the love of God. His charities are known to the
reader, but they should be understood as the result not merely
of affection for his brother, or even of faith in his apostolate,
but also from his own perception of the intrinsic worth of the
undertakings themselves. We know not what quality could be
added to George Hecker to make him a model Christian of our day.

His death had a serious effect on Father Hecker's state of
body and mind. But from the previous autumn and during the
winter following he had failed rapidly. In fact, he had request-
ed and received the last Sacraments from Father Hewit on

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 163

September 15, 1887; but this was on account of an alarming
irregularity of the heart's action, which was but temporary. He
had no long distance to drop at any time to get to the bot-
tom, and it became evident in the summer of 1888 that the end
was not far off. He could not stand the strong air of Lake
George that summer, and came home after being there but a
couple of weeks. He tried the sea-side with even worse success;
and the short journeys he made were extremely painful. The
paroxysms of angina pectoris became more frequent and daily left
their victim less able to rally. Patience strained to the utter-
most by physical suffering, the mind distressed, fits of despon-
dency and of indescribable gloom, the weight of a body of death
all this he had borne for sixteen years, with only occasional
intervals of peace. There was little left to suffer except death.
His bodily resistance grew weaker towards the end of his last
summer on earth, and he lost flesh rapidly. The fulness of
his face was gone by autumn, and a wan look, as of decaying
force, was stamped upon it. He suffered in literally every mem-
ber of his body, by turns or simultaneously. We find the fol-
lowing memorandum :

" Question : What's the matter with the back of your head ?
[he was rubbing it with extract of witch hazel]. Answer : It
is sore, it hurts me. Q. Well ! As soon as one part is better
another gets out of order? etc. A. Do you know it was all
revealed to me and foretold [beginning to weep]. Q. When ?
In your novitiate ? A. Yes. Q. But not all the details of your
sufferings? A. Yes, all the details. But I will not say another
word about it. Q. But you ought to, etc. [He refused to say more.]"

Little by little during the latter years Father Hecker's visi-
tors had become very few. An occasional call was received
from an old friend, lay or cleric, and this was not apt to be
repeated, so painful was the contrast between the former Father
Hecker aYid the present one. Instead of the active and power-
ful man, of contagious courage and hopefulness, they saw a tall,
wan old man bending with the weight of years and of suffering,
but still majestic in his look and bearing, with a white beard,
and soft, attractive eyes. The quick movement, the joyous greet-
ing, even the smiling serenity, had passed away, and instead an
air of sadness had come, or of enforced cheerfulness.

The following memorandum, taken over two years before his
death, tells of a relief which he hoped would be permanent ; but
such was not to be the case :

1 64 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Nov.,

" Father Hecker said to-day : ' Only within the last three
days has God released me from the sensation that I might die
any instant. Oh ! how I have suffered from that feeling for ten
years. I did not know whether I should ever be delivered from
it. Now, little by little God is lifting it off from my soul. For
ten years I have been under this cloud. Oh, how terrible a suf-
fering it has been ! ' This he said, his hands covering his face ; he
had interrupted me to say it while I was reading St. John of
the Cross. * Oh ! ' he added, ' how I could weep for my sins/
and so on for a few more words."

The clouds soon settled down again. The following was
noted a little over a month after the above :

" Father Hecker said to me to-day : ' There was a time when
I seemed to know God so clearly and to be so conscious of
His attraction that my whole thought and wish was death ; to
break the chain of life, to be united to God in Paradise. Now
it is altogether different ; nothing but darkness and depression.' "

Here is another memorandum, taken some time before the
above :

" Father Hecker said : ' God is now visiting me with the pro-
foundest desolation of spirit. I have the most deadly terror of
death ; if I yielded to it I should tremble from head to foot.
Yet there is a spell on me which makes me wish that I may
die without sensible faith and deprived of every present spiritual
comfort. . . .' He also said many things about his continued
and unbroken desolation of spirit these several years back.
' Yet,' said he, ' I never knew that God would permit me to
come so near to Him and see so much of Him as I have.'
Then he made me read to him the first chapter of the Book of
Job. . . . After he had gone to bed I read to him part of
an article in The Month on the indwelling of the Holy Spirit,
and he discoursed meantime to me most profoundly on that
topic. And he added : ' One reason why I have always been so
much interested in the doctrine of the Holy Ghost acting in the
soul is a practical one, because I myself have never had any
other director, though I have more than once opened my mind
entirely to others and profited by their advice, but none was or
could be really my director. Hence, too, I am so much attracted
to saints who have had to struggle on alone, like St. Catherine
of Genoa, who was without a director for twenty-five years.' "

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 165

Towards the close of October, 1888, two months before death,
Doctor Begen saw that the end was approaching. This was
evident from a sudden and general failure of strength, the appe-
tite, not much at any time, seeming now to vanish quite away,
although Father Hecker's strong will forced down a little nour-
ishment. This loss of strength caused the heart to work badly
and to give an occasional sudden alarm. Internal congestions
followed, relaxing the bowels and causing much bodily annoy-
ance. Meantime he was hardly ever out of his room and many
days he spent entirely in bed. His fits of depression of spirits
were more frequent than usual and more saddening. He no
longer rested at all, what sleep he got being produced by drugs
and serving but to pass the time unconsciously. From the be-
ginning of December he was apt to fall into a semi-comatose
state, though generally in full use of his faculties. Some days
before he died he seemed to realize that the long struggle was
nearly over, and he no longer talked to the doctor or others of
the medicines or of his bodily ailments, nor did he seem to
think of them ; and his mind appeared to have suddenly grown
peaceful. The Scriptures as well as other books were read to
him, as usual, up to the very evening before he died. On the
night of the 2Oth of December, two days after his sixty-ninth
birthday, the last sacraments were administered, Father Hecker
receiving them without visible emotion but in full consciousness.
During the following day he was quiet and apparently free from
acute pain, the benumbed body refusing to suffer more ; but the
mind calm and attentive. When the morning of the 22d came
all could see that his time was near at hand. In the middle
of the forenoon the members of the community were gathered
at the bedside, the prayers for the dying were read and the
indulgence was given. As this was over the doctor arrived,
and Father Hecker, who had gradually lost advertence to all
around him, was roused by him into full consciousness, and
gave the community his blessing, feebly raising his hand to
make the sign of the cross and uttering the words in a light
whisper. Then he sank away into unconsciousness and in an
hour ceased to breathe.

And so Father Hecker died. Our beloved teacher and
father, so blameless and brave, so gentle and daring, so full of
God and of humanity, entered into his eternal beatitude.

Dying on Saturday, and so near Christmas, the funeral was
delayed till Wednesday, the feast of St. Stephen, the body being
embalmed. Christmas afternoon it was placed in the church

166 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Nov.,

and was visited and venerated by great throngs of people. A
vast concourse attended the Requiem Mass the next morning,
which was sung by Archbishop Corrigan surrounded by many
priests, an eloquent sermon being preached by Father T. J.
Campbell, the Provincial of the Jesuits. The body was placed in
the vaults of the old cathedral.

The life we have been following is a harmonious whole from
beginning to end. The child tells of the youth, the youth
promises a noble man, and the promise is more than fulfilled.
He was guileless ; no dark ways of forbidden pleasure ever
heard the sound of his footstep. There was no barter of con-
science for ambition's prize. He was fearless ; from beginning to
end there was no halt from want of courage. Nor did he rush
forward before the light came to show the road, though he often
chafed and panted to hear the word of Divine command ; he
never moved at any other. But when the voice of God bade
him forward he never flinched at any obstacle. The ever-re-
curring persuasion that there were so few who saw God's will as
he saw it cut him to the heart, and the mystery of the Divine
times and moments grew upon him with fatal force till the end,
until he drooped and pined away with grief that he could but
taste the first-fruits. Yet he was ever submissive to the Divine
Will, to live, to die, to begin, to end the work, to be alone or
to be of many brethren, to lead or to follow. Though a most
active spirit, he was yet contemplative, and to unite the mani-
festation of the Holy Spirit in the inner and outer life was the
end he always kept in view ; but he was distinctively an interior man.

Few men since the Apostles have felt a quicker pulse than
Isaac Hecker when the name of God was heard, or that of
Jesus Christ or the Holy Spirit. Few men have had a nobler
pride in the Church of Christ, or felt more one with her honor.
Few men have grown into closer kinship with all the family of
God, from Mary the great mother and the holy angels down to
the simplest Catholic, than Isaac Hecker. But his peculiar trait
was fidelity to the inner voice. " There are some," he once said,
" for whom the predominant influence is the external one, author-
ity, example, etc. ; others in whose lives the interior action of the
Holy Spirit predominates. In my case, from my childhood, God
influenced me by an interior light and by the interior touch of
his Holy Spirit." The desperate demand of Philip, " Lord, show
us the Father and it is enough," was Father Hecker's cry all
through early life. After the founding of his community, in 1858,

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 167

his life was like an arctic year. From that date till 1872 there
was no set of sun. The unclouded heavens bent over him ever
smiling with God's glorious light ; and its golden tints lit up all
humanity with hope and joy. Then the sun went down to rise
no more. The heavens were dark and silent, or rent asunder
with wrathful storms, only a transient flash of the aurora reliev-
ing the gloom. When the light dawned again it was to beam
upon his soul in the ecstasies of Paradise.

We know not what to say of his faults, nor can we think
that he had any that were not to be traced to his eager love of
God's cause, such as his overpowering men with pleading for
God in their souls ; or too easily crediting unworthy men who
prated to him of liberty and the Holy Spirit ; or over-fondness
during his illness for playing in the lists of fancy at an apos-
tolate denied him in the battle of active life ; he repined
at being forced to plan great battles in a sick-room. He
could not help betraying a heart heaving with a pent-up ocean
of zeal, while he was creeping about helplessly, often too feeble
to speak above his breath. A lover of liberty, its only boon to
him at last was liberty to accept and rivet upon himself the
chain of patient love.

Some may say " Hecker was before his time." But no man
is before his time if, having a divine message, he can get but
one other to accept it, can arrest men's attention, can cause
them to ponder, to ask why or why not, whether this be the
day or only its vigil. The sower is not before his time though
he dies before the harvest ; there is a time to sow and a time
to reap.

And now the tree is dead, but its ripe fruits are in our
bosoms bearing living seeds, which will spring up in their time
and give fruit 'again each according to its kind.

The life of Father Hecker is a strong invitation to the men
of these times to become followers of God the Holy Ghost, to
fit their souls by prayer and penance in union with Christ and
His Church, for the consecration of liberty and intelligence to
the elevation of the human race to union with God. We do
not bid him farewell, for this age, and especially this nation, will
hail him and his teachings with greater and greater acclaim as
time goes on. As God guides His Church to seek her Aposto-
late mainly in developing men's aspirations for better things into
fulness of Catholic truth and virtue, Isaac Hecker will be found
to have taught the principles and given the methods which will
lead most surely to success.

i68 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Nov.,

APPENDIX.

LETTERS FROM CARDINAL NEWMAN.

THE ORATORY, BIRMINGHAM, February 28, 1889.

MY DEAR FATHER HEWIT: I was very sorrowful at hearing of Father
Hecker's death. I have ever felt that there was this sort of unity in our lives that
we had both begun a work of the same kind, he in America and I in England, and
I know how zealous he. was in promoting it. It is not many months since I re-
ceived a vigorous and striking proof of it in the book he sent me [ The Church and
the Age]. Now I am left with one friend less, and it remains with me to convey
through you my best condolement to all the members of your society.
Hoping that you do not forget me in your prayers,
I am, dear Father Hewit,

most truly yours,

JOHN H. CARD. NEWMAN.
II.

THE ORATORY, BIRMINGHAM, March 15, 1890.

DEAR FATHER HEWIT: In answer to your letter I am glad to be told what is
so interesting to me, viz., that the Life of Father Hecker is in preparation. I had
a great affection and reverence towards him, and felt that which so many good
Catholics must have felt with me on hearing of his illness and death. I wish, as
you ask me, that I could say something more definite than this of his life and
writings, but my own correspondence with friends, and especially the infirmities
of my age, burden me and make it impossible for me to venture upon it. This,
alas ! is all that I have left me now by my years towards the fulfilment of welcome
duties to the grateful memory of an effective Catholic writer (I do not forget his
work in England) and a Benefactor, if I may use the term, to the Catholic Reli-
gion, whose name will ever be held in honor by the Catholic Church.

Yours most truly,

J. H. N.

RECOLLECTIONS OF FATHER HECKER BY THE ABBE XAVIER
DUFRESNE, OF GENEVA.

I first knew Father Hecker in 1873, meeting him at a Catholic Congress held
at Ferney and presided over by Monsignor Mermillod. Father Hecker visited
Geneva several times after that, living in the closest intimacy with our family.
He spent several weeks on a visit with my father, Dr. Dufresne, at a chalet situ-
ated on Salene mountain above Geneva, being at the time in feeble health and
seeking recovery by a prolonged sojourn in Europe. For this enforced inactivity
he recompensed himself by continual and earnest conversations, for the purpose
of gaining to h'is ideas all whom he believed capable of understanding them,
whether Protestants or Catholics. There was about him an indescribable charm

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 169

which mysteriously drew one to him and penetrated one with his influence. Al-
though he did not know French thoroughly and preferred to use English, yet he
spoke with such power, elevation, exuberance, and depth of thought that he
captivated his hearers.

When I made Father Hecker's acquaintance I had just lost my eyesight, being
at the end of my ecclesiastical studies, and not yet ordained. He did my soul
much good by teaching me a kind of holiness which was joined to lively intelli-
gence and the most energetic activity, Father Hecker remains to me not only the
type of an American priest, but of the modern one, the kind needed by the
Church for the recovery of the ground lost as a result of Protestantism and infi-
delity, as well as to enable her to start anew in her divine mission.

II.

The principal impression produced by Father Hecker on those who came in
contact with him was one of sanctity. In his company one felt his whole being
influenced as if by something venerable and supernatural, and a constant inclina-
tion to correspond to the action of the Holy Spirit and submit the human will to
the divine. In conversing with him about spiritual things one was transported
into a higher region, the heart growing warmer and the conscience more sen-
sitive. Father Hecker plainly inclined by habit to the type of character given us
by Jesus Christ. He suffered much, both physically from weakness of nerves and
morally on account of enforced inactivity, yet he not only never complained but
was always cheerful. This was the greater merit in him because he seemed by
nature impatient of opposition and contradiction. He had a sagacious mind and
easily discovered the faults of others, but, although he spoke of men and affairs
with openness and candor, he yet ever sought for favorable interpretations. Like
St. Francis de Sales, he knew how to judge of people and yet remain full of charity
for his neighbor. Profoundly individual, and profoundly attached to his ideas,
like all Anglo-Saxons, and in fact like all who have acquired the Protestant habit
of free inquiry, he nevertheless had for the Church a docility almost naive and in-
fantile ; and this was because he recognized in her the authority and the action of
the Holy Spirit.

It may be said of -him without exaggeration that he was every moment ready,
if it became necessary, to bear witness to the divinity of the Church by martyr-
dom, and in fact he often made that declaration. In him the most heroic virtue
was faith. He had come into the Catholic Church in spite of the most extreme
natural repugnance, and he remained in it, overcoming the perpetual objection of
Protestants that Catholicity could not be the truth because Catholic countries had
become the least powerful and the least prosperous in the civilized world. On
this point he loved to expound the text of Scripture which says that it is better to
lose an eye and an arm and enter into the kingdom of heaven, than to save both
and fall into hell. His piety was wholly interior. It consisted in the perpetual
exercise of the presence of God. He had a natural disinclination for devotional
practices as they are in vogue among the southern races.

His tendency was to spiritualize as much as possible all the devotions in use in
the Church. His own principal one was to the Holy Ghost and His divine Gifts.
He never spoke of the Incarnation and the Eucharist without deep emotion and a
contagious love. As to devotion to the Blessed Virgin, he explained it in a most
elevated manner, ever showing, and with great dignity and nobility of manner,
how it flowed from the principle of the divine maternity. The last book he sent

170 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Nov.,

me was one on the Blessed Virgin written by an American priest. Since Father
Hecker's death I have never failed a single day to invoke him in my prayers, and
to his intercession I attribute many graces obtained, some of them very important.

III.

Father Hecker had a marvellous openness of heart. I heard him relate
several times the story of his life, his conversion, his joining the Redemptorists,
his case before the Roman Congregations, and the founding of the Paulist com-
munity. I can still recall the banks of the Lake of Geneva at the Villa Bartoloni,
where Father Hecker, walking with a friend and myself, told us of his leaving the
Redemptorist order. It was the way in which he talked of so delicate a matter
that enabled me to appreciate that the man was a saint. He liked to repeat,
while on this subject, what Cardinal Deschamps had said of him : " Here is a
man who has been able to leave our Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer
without committing even a venial sin."

In my opinion, Father Hecker was, after Pere Lacordaire, the most remarkable
sacred orator of the century. This does not apply to his writings, for his ideas
lost much of their force in the process of getting into print. Like all natural
orators his chief quality was a power of drawing and persuading, which, to use an
expression often applied to Pere Lacordaire, had something magnetic about it.
He had a prodigious gift of showing his Protestant or infidel hearers that their
own hearts and their own reason aspired by instinct towards the Catholic truth
which he was teaching them. In that way he drew his hearers to discover the
truth in their own minds instead of receiving it by force of argument or any ex-
trinsic authority. To acquire this power he had made a great study of the Gos-
pel, and, sustained by Divine grace, he went about the exposition of the truth as
Jesus Christ did. One of the most original aspects of his mind was that he joined
the practical sense of the American to the taste and aptitude of the European
for speculation. He had not been able to make a complete course of studies be-
cause he had spent several years in commercial life, but he had great natural
gifts for metaphysics, theology, and above all mysticism.

Unlike the English converts of the Oxford school, he had reached Catholicity
by way of liberal Protestantism, which he had renounced^ because it could not
satisfy the religious aspirations of his nature. It would be interesting to study
his case in connection with those of Newman and Manning, for it shows that souls
are led to Catholicity by all roads, even the most opposite, and that minds most
inclined to rationalize can be drawn to the Church as easily as those of a conserv-
ative or traditional temperament.

IV.

But I wish to dwell especially on what preoccupied Father Hecker's mind and
formed the fundamental theme of his eloquent words. We were just on the mor-
row of the Vatican Council, of the defeat of France by Prussia, and in the first
agonies of the Culturkampf in Germany and Italy. Now, if one remembers that
Father Hecker was of an American family originally from the town of Elberfeld,
Prussia, he can better understand the gravity of the problem which weighed
upon his mind, as upon that of so many others. Must we admit, it was asked, that
the Council of the Vatican has affixed its seal upon the decadence of Catholicity,
binding the Church to the failing fortunes of the Latin races ? Must Protestantism
finally triumph with the Saxon races ? And here Father Hecker's faith did not
halt an instant, but grasped the difficulty in all its terrible magnitude. His solu-

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 171

tion may be questioned by some, but I believe that no one will dispute that the
mind which conceived it was of the first order.

Father Hecker remarked, as did many others, that, starting from the sixteenth
century, the Church, although ever exerting a considerable influence, no longer ap-
peared at the head of the world's activity. This was in contrast with what she
had done in the era of the conversion of the Roman Empire, during that of the in-
vasion of the barbarians, and amid the immense religious movement \vhich charac-
terized the apogee of the Middle Ages. Father Hecker discovered the cause of
this lessening influence in the fact that since the sixteenth century the Church had
been compelled to stand upon the defensive. This had greatly paralyzed her pow-
er of initiation and her liberty. As a consequence of the Protestant heresy, which
threatened the utter destruction of the principle of authority, the Church had been
forced to concentrate on that side of her fortress all her means of defence. In
order to protect herself from the excesses of the principle of individuality and free
inquiry, she had been obliged to resort to a multitude of restrictive measures,
which .were conceived in a very different spirit from that which animat.ed her in
previous centuries. In the sixteenth century the Church placed before everything
else the idea of authority. She sacrificed the development of personality to foster-
ing the association of men whose wills were absolutely merged by discipline in one
powerful body. It can be seen at a glance how intimately and profoundly the
spirit of the dominant religious orders of the later era differs from that of the great
orders of the Middle Ages, in respect to the expansion of nature and the develop-
ment of individuality. The needs of the sixteenth century were altogether differ-
ent from those of the ages preceding it, and to meet those needs God inspired St.
Ignatius with the idea of a different type of Christian character. The result was
the triumphant repulse of Protestantism from all the southern nations. But the
victory was gained at the price of real sacrifices ; the Catholics of the recent cen-
turies have not displayed the puissant individuality of those of the Middle Ages,
the types of which are St. Bernard, St. Gregory VII., Innocent III., St. Thomas
Aquinas. 'The Divine Spirit often exacts the sacrifice of certain human qualities
for the preservation of -the faith ; and it is in this sense that we should interpret
the mysterious words of Jesus Christ, that it is better to lose an eye and an arm
and not fall into hell, than to save an eye and an arm and be lost eternally.

The Council of the Vatican, Father Hecker maintained, by giving to the princi-
ple of authority its dogmatic completion, has placed it above all attacks, and con-
sequently has brought to a close the historical period in which it was necessary to
devote all efforts to its defence. A new period now opens to the Church. She
has been engaged during three centuries in perfecting her external organism, and
securing to authority the place it should have in working out her divine life ; she
will now undertake quite another part of her providential mission. It is now to be
the individuality, the personality of souls, their free and vigorous initiative under the
direct guidance of the Holy Spirit dwelling within them, which shall become the
distinctive Catholic form of acting in these times. And this will all be done under
the control of her divine supreme authority in the external order preventing error,
eccentricity, and rashness.

The Latin races were fitted by nature to be the principal instruments of the
Holy Spirit during the period just passed. In the new one the Anglo-Saxon and
Teutonic races, of a nature strongly individual and independent, will take their
turn as instruments of Divine Providence. This is not saying that the development
of the Church is the result of the natural aptitudes of races, but that God, who

172 THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. [Nov.,

has created these aptitudes, takes them one after the other, and at the hours He
chooses, and causes them to serve as instruments for carrying out His designs.
It was thus, from the fourth to the seventh century, that He made use of the meta-
physical subtilty implanted by Him in the Greek genius, issuing in all those great
definitions which have fixed not only the substance but the verbal form of Catho-
lic dogma. Hence the first general councils were all held in the East.

Father Hecker cherished hopes for the conversion of the Teutonic and Anglo-
Saxon races. Doubtless God could convert them suddenly, but considering the
way heretofore followed that conversion will be brought about insensibly and by
the two following instrumentalities : On the one hand, the new development of indi-
viduality in souls within the Church will create a sympathetic attraction towards
her on the part of Protestants, who will discover affinities with her of which they
were wholly unaware. On the other hand, the more the Protestant races expand,
the more they will find the dwarfed Christianity which they profess falling short of
their aspirations, and by that means they will be inclined towards Catholicity. It
is not a little remarkable that Father Hecker expressed himself thus during the
last years of the pontificate of Pius IX., at a moment when such ideas seemed to
be least in favor in high Catholic circles. But soon afterwards the pontificate of
Leo XIII. began, and with it a movement in the spirit indicated by the American
priest, and in a manner so strikingly in accord with his views that Father Hecker
seemed to have been enlightened from above in his presages of the future.

Father Hecker developed a grand theological synthesis of what he called the
exterior and interior mission of the Holy Spirit in the Church. He has explained
it in a pamphlet ; but how much more impressive it was when he expounded it in
person ! We had the privilege of hearing him do so in a long conversation with
the most celebrated Protestant minister of French-speaking countries, the illus-
trious philosopher and orator, Ernest Naville. Father Hecker said that the an-
tipathy of Protestants for the Church arose from the fact that they imagined that
Catholicity reduced all religion to obedience to external authority. Protestants,
on the other hand, pretend to place all religion in the interior life, directly gene-
rated in souls by the Holy Spirit, and it is for this reason that Catholicity impresses
them as a tyrannical usurpation and a stupid formalism. In this they are deceived,
as a close acquaintance with Catholics and with such writings as those of St.
Francis de Sales and St. Teresa soon proves to them. So, also, when they fancy
that the authority of the Church is not necessary to the preservation of the action
of the Holy Spirit in the soul. As a matter of fact, the innumerable divisions of
Protestants among themselves plainly show that the interior action of 'the Holy
Ghost does not extend to making each individual infallible. To safeguard souls
against deception, scepticism or illuminism, there is need of another action of the
Holy Spirit which shall be conservative of the interior life. That other action is
exterior, and is exercised by means of the authority of the Church. The Holy Spirit
cannot be brought into contradiction with Himself. By His action in the exterior
authority of the Church He can never interfere in the least degree with the fulness
or the spontaneity of His own interior action in souls.

The exterior action is one of control and of verification, to hinder souls from
being lost in the depths of illusion and in the deceits of pride. But besides this,
humility, obedience, self-abnegation, virtues dear by excellence to the heart of
Jesus Christ, are impossible without due submission to the external authority.
When one believes only in himself, he obeys only himself, and hence has never
practised complete renunciation nor complete humility.

1891.] THE LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 173

Father Hecker also maintained that the direction of souls in confession should
be made to strengthen and develop individual life. We do not need blood-letting,
he said, as if we suffered from plethora, but rather we need a course of tonics, sea-
baths, and the invigorating air of the mountains. We should not hold our peni-
tents in leading-strings, but should teach them to live a self-reliant life under the
direction of the Holy Spirit. Souls tempered by that process would render the
Church a thousand times more service than they do now.

No doubt such souls may sometimes run the risk of pride and of temptation to
revolt. But in such cases the Church is so provided with power by the dogma of
infallibility, as proclaimed by the Vatican Council, as to be able to counteract this
danger without serious loss, as was proved in the case of Dollinger and the Old
Catholics.

The Holy Spirit, preparing for a great development of -individual life, has made
provision beforehand that the Church should be armed with power sufficient to re-
press all waywardness, and this was done by the Vatican Council. Some had
feared that the definition of infallibility would introduce an extravagant use of au-
thority, and lead to a diminution of reasonable liberty and individuality in the
Church even greater than before. But the very contrary has been the result.

With reference to the interior life, I can affirm that Father Hecker's was full and
rich. Having spent the greater part of his life in a devouring activity, at its close
he lived as a true contemplative. He was a genuine mystic. We heard him dis-
course with marvellous beauty on the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Eucharist, ex-
pounding these great truths in a way not only to enrapture one with their splen-
dor, but utterly to refute deism, pantheism, and materialism. The latter error, he
said, owed its introduction partly to the fact that Protestantism had refused to the
senses their legitimate place in divine worship, this excessive spiritualizing having
brought about a reaction.

Father Hecker often spoke of the future reserved for Catholicity in the United
States, saying that it was there that the union of the Church with democracy would
first take place. In that nation the prejudice against the Church is not so strong as
in Europe, and her position is free from the embarrassments of traditional difficul-
ties. Catholicity is there valued for its immediate effect upon human nature, and
the rancor born of historical recollections is not in such full control of men's
minds; hence conversions are more easily made. Furthermore, Father Hecker
believed that it would finally be discovered that the Protestant spirit is contrary to
the political spirit of the American Republic. America has based her Constitution
on the fact that man is born free, reasonable, and capable of self-government.
The Protestant Reformers, on the contrary, never ceased to teach that original sin
deprived man of his free will and made him incapable of performing virtuous
acts ; and if Protestants seek to escape from this whirlpool of fatalism, they fall
into infidelity. The day will come when Americans will admit that if they are to
be at once religious and reasonable, they must become Catholics. Therefore,
whether it be acknowledged or not, every development of political liberty in the
United States contributes to the advance of Catholicity. The Constitution of the
United States has formulated the political principles most conformable to the
Canons of the Council of Trent.

STRONG CITY. [Nov.,

A STRONG CITY.

For them that hope in Thee. . . . Thou shalt hide them in the secret of Thy face,
from the disturbance of men.

Thou shalt protect them in Thy tabernacle from the contradiction of tongues.
Blessed be the Lord, for He hath shewn His wonderful mercy to me in a fortified city.

Psalm xxx.

BEAUTY and splendor were on every hand :
Yet strangely crawled dark shadows down the lanes,
Twisting across the fields, like dragon-shapes
That smote the air with blackness, and devoured
The life of light, and choked the smiling world
Till it grew livid with a sudden age
The death of hope.

O squandered happiness ;

Vain dust of misery powdering life's fresh flower !
The sky was holy, but the earth was not.

Men ruled, but ruled in vain ; since wretchedness
Of soul and body, for the mass of men,
Made them like dead leaves in an idle drift
Around the plough of progress as it drove
Sharp through the glebe of modern days, to plant
A civilized world. Ay ; civilized but not Christian !

Civilization is a clarion voice
Crying in the wilderness ; a prophet-word
Still unfulfilled. And lo, along the ways
Crowded with nations, there arose a strife ;
Disturbance of men ; tongues contradicting tongues ;
Madness of noise, that scattered multitudes ;
A trample of blind feet, beneath whose tread
Truth's bloom shrank withered ; while incessant mouths
Howled " Progress! Change!" as though all moods of change
Were fiats of truth eternal.

'Mid the din

Two pilgrims, faring forward, saw the light
In a strong city, fortified, and moved
Patiently thither. " All your steps are vain,"
Cried scoffers. " There is mercy in the world ;
But chiefly mercy of man to man. For we
Are good. We help our fellows, when we can.
Our charity is enormous. Look at these
Long rolls of rich subscriptions. We are good.
'Tis true, God's mercy plays a part in things ;

1891.] A STRONG CITY. 175

But most is left to us ; and we judge well.

Stay with us in the field of endless war !

Here only is health. Yon city fortified

You dre.am of why, its ramparts are as dust.

It gives no safety. One assaulting sweep

Of our huge cohorts would annul its power

Crush it in atoms ; make it meaningless."

The pilgrims listened ; but onward still they moved.
They passed the gates ; they stood upon a hill
Enclosed, but in that strong enclosure free !
Though earth opposed, they held the key to heaven.
On came the turbulent multitude in war,
Dashing against the city's walls ; and swept
Through all the streets, and robbed and burned and killed.
The walls were strong : the gates were always open.
And so the invader rioted, and was proud.
But sudden, in seeming triumph, the enemy host
Was stricken with death ; and still the city stayed.
Skyward the souls of its defenders rose,
Returning soon in mist intangible
That flashed with radiance of half-hidden swords ;
And those who still assaulted though they crept
Into the inmost vantage-points, with craft,
Fell, blasted namelessly by this veiled flash,
Even as they shouted out, " The place is ours ! "

So those two pilgrims dwelt there, fortified
In that strong city men had thought so frail.
They died, and lived again. Fiercest attack
Was as a perfumed breeze to them, which drew
Their souls still closer unto God. And there
Beauty and splendor bloomed untouched. The stars
Spoke to them, bidding them be of good cheer,
Though hostile hordes rushed over them in blood.
And still the prayers of all that people rose
As incense mingled with music of their hearts.
For Christ was with them : angels were their aid.
What though the enemy used their open gates ?
The children of the citadel conquered all
Their conquerors, smiting them with the pure light
That shone in that strong city fortified.

GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP.

176 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Nov.,

THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM.

THERE is hardly any country on the face of the globe more
deeply interesting to civilized man in general, and to the man of
culture in particular, than the land of his cradle, Asia. From
the days of Pythagoras down to our own, men of light and
leading have been casting wistful eyes on the teeming millions
of that classical Land, and straining every nerve to gain an in-
sight into their thoughts and fancies, their ways and manners,
their systems of philosophy, their theological tenets in a word,
know something of how they "interpreted the riddle of life"
but all their endeavors were doomed to signal and dismal fail-
ures. It is only within comparatively few years namely, since
the establishment of the Royal Asiatic Society, for investigating
the history, antiquities, arts, sciences, and literature of Asia, by
the eminent English Orientalist, Sir William Jones that the
golden key opening for us the rich treasures of learning lying
hidden in the great, thinking world of Asia was extorted from
the Brahmins by means of threats and entreaties, laudable bri-
bery and corruption, on the part of the English, to whom we
are indebted for the world of wonders they have opened up for
us. If all this be true of the enormous continent of Asia in
general, it is eminently so of its sundry geographical and politi-
cal divisions in particular. Of the latter, the kingdom of Burmah
stands out in bold relief. What is Burmah ? and where is it ? are
the first pertinent questions that suggest themselves to a rightly-
thinking mind. Ere I answer them, however, it may be just
as well for me to state that I have lingered among the scenes
I am about to describe for ten long years. My quality of mis-
sioner brought me into close contact with the people of the
country. I have lived amongst them, mixed with them, and
been almost one of them. Burmah, besides, lying as it does
quite out of the beat of the ubiquitous globe-trotter, is almost a
" terra incognita " in America. And what little some people
might lay claim to know about it is not always of a reliable
nature.

Burmah was once a mighty empire, which, in course of time,
political changes degraded into a kingdom, and within the last
few years namely, since 1885 its king was deposed and ban-
ished to India, the country wholly annexed to the British crown,

1891.] THE BURMA NS AND BUDDHISM. 177

and now it has sunk into a province governed by a chief com-
missioner.

Burmah is geographically wedged in between India and As-
sam on one side, China, Siam, and Tonquin on the other, whilst
its western and southern shores are respectively washed by the
Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean.

To the ancients Burmah was known under the high-sounding
appellation of the " Golden Chersonese," or " The Land of
Gold." Some geographical writers of modern times assert, in all
seriousness, that Burmah is the " Ophir " so frequently men-
tioned in the Old Testament ; the same identical country
whither Solomon's ships, fitted out in the harbors of Edom,
went, and brought back gold and precious stones ! Their opin-
ion rests chiefly on the authority of Josephus, who places Ophir
in or near the country now geographically known as Burmah.
Be this as it may, it is certain, beyond the shadow of a
doubt, that both gold and precious stones are found in Burmah
to this day. The former is diffused through the soil in flakes or
grains, and it is obtained by the simple process of washing it
from the earth ; the latter are found in great abundance over
an area of a hundred square miles, in the northernmost part of
the country, near a town called Momiet, about seventy miles
south of the city of Bhamo, which borders with China. The
world-renowned " Ruby Mines " of Burmah were lately leased
to an English company, by the British government, for an enor-
mous annual rental.

The actual area of Burmah is estimated at 267,223 square
miles, or twice the size of the United Kingdom of Great Britain
and Ireland, or, again, a little larger than France. The country
is mountainous, forest-clad, intersected with a perfect network of
creeks and rivers bearing in their bosoms the wealth of jthe na-
tion ; for, we must not forget to mention that the markets of
Europe are supplied with rice mainly from Burmah. The coun-
try, however, is but thinly populated, its inhabitants probably
not exceeding 8,000,000.

The ethnological subject of the inhabitants of the Burman
Peninsula has always been a " vexata quaestio " among critics,
and it may be said that the matter is still "sub judice." For,
while it would be wrong to call them a branch of the Aryan
family, it would not be correct to say that they are down-right
Mongolians. Perhaps they belong to the " Seriform stock " of
the Altaic Mongolidae. As a nation the Burmese are fine, well-
VOL. LIV. 12

178 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Nov.,

made persons, with skins shading from deep brown to nearly
white. Their hair is jet black, the face broad and the nose
somewhat flat.

Their dress is simple. The men wear round the waist a
piece of silk or cotton cloth called' "putsoe." It is girt round
the body by a twist and a hitch of the cloth, without any belt.
A white cotton jacket called " engie " covers the waist ; shoes or
sandals, the feet. A Burman allows his hair to grow long, which
he ties in a knot on the top of his head. Round this knot he
fastens a handkerchief of the brightest crimson or yellow silk.

There is one thing which, like love or the measles, every
man must go through once in his lifetime in Burmah, and that
is " tattooing." All the men are tattoed from the waist to the
knee. The operation is trying and painful, productive of fever
and irritation, but custom is inexorable. Opium is administered
to deaden the pain.

The women's apparel is called "tamein." It consists of
three pieces of cloth of various patterns joined together ; i. e.,
the upper, the body, and the border. When these parts are
stitched they form a cloth a yard and a half wide, and about
two yards long. It reaches from beneath the arms down to the
feet. They wrap it round their persons and secure the upper
part by a hitch in the edge of the cloth. At the waist they
give it another hitch and twist ; but if these won't do, they then
tie it with a string or a scarf. From the waist to the feet the
cloth hangs loose and open, which in walking causes the wearer
to expose the better part of one limb. The Burmese are ex-
ceedingly fond of loud, flashy colors, and on gala-days they will
blaze out in all the glories of the rainbow. On these occasions
they present a strikingly picturesque appearance. Over the
" tamein " women wear a white calico jacket, closed in front,
and shaped somewhat like a jersey. A turban of flowers forms
the only covering of their heads, and sandals or slippers of
their feet. When out walking they throw a gaudy silk handker-
chief over their shoulders in a " neglige " manner. Their orna-
ments consist of necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings. On
festive occasions they will paint their eye-brows black, their
lips red, and will cover their faces with a layer of yellow ochre,
over which they apply the powder-puff. The lobes of a Burmese
woman's ears are bored with large holes, which will distend from
half an inch to three-quarters of an inch in diameter. In these
holes they insert round pieces of amber, or gold-leaf rolled up

1891.] THE BURMA NS AND BUDDHISM. 179

into cylinders. The effect of these is to distend the lobes to
disfiguration.

Children go mostly arrayed in nature's simplest charms, some-
times heightened by the addition of a lonely string tied round
the waist, to which a small, tinkling sleigh-bell is suspended in
front, as an amulet to avert the noxious influence of the " evil
eye."

Burmese of both sexes, young and old, are inveterate smok-
ers. They grow their own tobacco, and make it into cheroots
six inches Jong and one inch in diameter, and puff their merry
lives away. Besides smoking they also chew the nut of the
Areka palm-tree, sometimes called betel-nut, or "pan." It is
prepared thus : They take a green leaf of a certain species of
pepper called " betel-leaf " ; on this they spread some moistened
quick or slaked lime (chunam), obtained by calcinating shells,
and after putting in the same leaf a few scrapings of the " betel-
nut," a morsel of " cutch," a pinch of tobacco, and sometimes a
clover, wrap it all up carefully, put it in the mouth, and chew it
the live-long day. This preparation is so burning that it deadens
the sense of taste for a while, abrades the skin of the mouth,
and causes giddiness in persons not used to it.

The national drink is pure spring-water. The food is plain
boiled rice, which they eat with what is known in Asia as
" curry." This is a sort of stew made of vegetables, fish, flesh
or fowl, highly flavored, richly spiced, and so very pungent that
it causes one to weep hot tears without compunction. But what
a Burman considers the daintiest of bits is a preparation known
as " Nga-pee," or pounded fish. The fish is first allowed to de-
compose by being buried under ground in an earthen vessel.
When fairly putrescent it is pounded in a mortar, and used by
the Burmese as a great delicacy, though no refined nostrils can
stand its suffocating smell. " Nga-pee " must not be confounded
with " Balachong," or " shrimp-paste," of the Malay Straits. The
former is rank filth, the latter an esteemed appetizer. The Bur-
mans eat twice a day. They breakfast at eight o'clock in the
morning, and dine at five in the evening. They eat sitting cross-
legged on the ground, and help themselves with their fingers.
They never drink during meals, but when through, first rinse
their mouths, and then take a long draught of water.

Their bed is a mat spread on the hard mud floor, whereon
they sleep wrapped in a sheet or blanket, like so many mum-
mies. The houses are built on piles six or seven feet from the

i8o THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Nov.

ground. The poor cover the sides, divide the rooms and make
the floors with bamboo matting, and thatch them with grass or
leaves of the water-palm. The fire-place is a movable square
box, about six inches deep, filled with earth kneaded into
mud.

Unlike the Hindoos, their neighbors, the Burmans have no
caste system ; and, like the Americans, they admit of no social
distinction, one man among them being as good as another.
Wealth may confer influence on its possessor, as it does amongst
us, but it will not raise him higher in social position.

In Hindostan women are confined within the recesses of their
zenanas. In Burmah they are as free and unfettered as their
more enlightened and refined sisters in Europe or in America.
Their education, however, is wofully neglected, hardly any one of
them being able to read or write. Since the annexation of the
country by the English a new era has been inaugurated, and the
school-master is now as much abroad in Burmah as anywhere
else.

If we measure Burmese morality by our own standard we
shall decidedly call it " low." Polygamy, though sanctioned by
law, is repudiated by custom and practice. The only reason for
this seems to be, that a plurality of wives is too expensive a
luxury for people in general to indulge in, only a few of the
wealthy class availing themselves of the concession. But even
then, public opinion looks upon it as not the correct thing to
do. Marrying and giving in marriage are the simplest imagina-
ble things in Burmah. Sometimes the fact of a man and a
woman " eating rice out of the same dish together " makes them
man and wife. Sometimes two persons of different sexes appear
before a few village elders ; one of these ties them up with a
string and the marriage rite is over. At other times a mutual
agreement of living together as man and wife renders them such
in the eyes of the law. More frequently, however, especially in
the case of young people, the young man first ascertains the in-
tentions of the parents of the young woman he wishes to marry,
through an elder. If he is accepted, all he has to do is simply
to carry " all his worldly goods " to the girl's house and take
possession of her. This, however, is not without exception. In
the case of well-to-do-people, for instance, the marriage ceremo-
nies are oftentimes conducted with great pomp and solemnity,
and an extravagance and pageant truly Oriental. To break a
marriage is as easy as to make it. In case of ill-treatment, or

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 181

of " any other reason whatsoever," be it real or fanciful, a
woman can have a marriage dissolved by going before a few vil-
lage elders, and she is free to marry again. In fact, marriage in
Burmah seems to be a temporary arrangement, only binding dur-
ing the will of the parties.

It may interest some of my readers to know that the poor,
benighted Burmans are minus the 'luxury of civilization called
kissing. They have not even a word in their language to ex-
press such a form of salutation. The nearest approach to any-
thing of the kind is " sniffing," or " smelling " another's cheeks.
Thus, a fond mother will cover her baby's face with " sniffs"; that
is how she shows her fondness for him. Friends "smell" one
another's cheeks, and that's the sum-total of their bliss !

The manner of disposing of the dead in Burmah requires a
passing notice, as there is nothing so distinctive of their charac-
ter as the way in which they conduct their funerals. Like the
majority of Asiatic nations, the Burmans burn the bodies and
bury the ashes. No sooner is the soul out of the body than
the corpse is washed and wrapped in a white cloth. A gold or
silver coin is inserted in the mouth to pay the " ferry-toll "; after
which friends and neighbors make their visits. The day on
which the body is carried to the place of cremation is a gala-
day, a day of great rejoicing for the whole village or neighbor-
hood. A Burmese funeral procession partakes more of the nature
of a triumphal march than of a funeral train. As the procession

Pis formed, starts and advances, shots are fired, sky-rockets dis-
charged, shouts of joy uttered, and jokes cracked. Bands are
engaged to play their merriest tunes, the bier-bearers and the
young men who are to relieve them dance their wildest dances,
singing their gayest ditties in their jolliest moods. No tears are
shed, no shrieks of wild despair heard, no sad faces worn, no
sighs heaved. I have witnessed this unseasonable display of
mirth times out of number, without ever being able to account
for it in a satisfactory manner. I know that the Burmese, like
the majority of our modern philosophers, hold a pessimistic view
of life, and it may be that, like the people in Herodotus, they
look upon the day of their death as better than the day of their
birth. A better and a holier , man than them all, in the depth
of misery, in the bitterness of his heart, was betrayed into curs-
ing the day wherein he was born ' (Job ii.) Sir Edwin Arnold,
I in the March number of Scribner's, quotes Mr. Chamberlain's
words anent the stoicism with which Buddhists in general meet

1 82 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Nov.,

their death, by attributing it to their benignant and hope-
ful creed, which promises rest to all at last. Further on
we shall see what sort of a " rest " Buddhism holds out to its
votaries.

Arrived at the place of cremation, the corpse is laid on the
funeral pyre built of logs, and after some more fire-wood has
been heaped upon it, each o'f the nearest relatives apply a light
to it, and the process of cremation begins. When the body is
entirely reduced to ashes these are gathered in an earthen ves-
sel (urn), and buried in a grave.

The little we have said about Burmah and the Burmans must
be viewed in the light of an introduction to what is yet to fol-
low, and which is the main object of this article, namely, a short
account of their religion the Buddhist Religion. The tendency
of the age ; the burning question of the hour ; that which agi-
tates the minds of millions, and convulses the structures of king-
doms, is whether man, singly and collectively, must be a Chris-
tian or an Atheist ; whether he is to worship God, or self, as pre-
sented to us by the Comtist " Religion of Humanity," a thinly
disguised Buddhism. Modern philosophers have gone so far as
to assure us, with how much truth I will not undertake to say,
that in the struggle for existence among the countless religious
creeds of the day, two only will survive the crack of doom, and
will eventually contend for supremacy; these are the Catholic
Church and the Buddhist system. The Catholics outnumber, by
many millions, all other religious denominations put together;
while the Buddhists form the largest non-Christian and atheistic
body in the world its adherents being estimated at four hun-
dred millions namely, more than one-third of the human race.
Buddhism is the religion of Tibet, China, Japan, Ceylon, Siam,
and Burmah. But in Tibet it has been corrupted into Lamaism ;
in China it has been mixed up "with Confucianism and Laotse-
ism or Taouism, in Japan with Shintoism and split up into thirty-
five different sects, and in Ceylon with Hindooism, Burmah
being the only country where it has been preserved in all its
primitive purity. It was first introduced into the country in the
fifth century of the Christian era, about A.D. 4091, and from
that day to this it has continued the same, presenting the beau-
tiful and rare spectacle of a religion undivided by either schism
or sect. The knowledge of this religion was shrouded in mys-
tery till the year 1828, when the British Resident at the court
of Nepaul, a Buddhist state in Upper India, came across a San-

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 183

scrit manuscript which proved to be a valuable treatise on Bud-
dhism. Copies of it were forthwith sent to London and Paris,
and done into English and French. Since that time there has
been going on a steady transfusion of new wine into old bottles ;
" Eastern " thought has been made to assume the garb of
"Western " knowledge.

But in spite of the flood of light that modern researches and
modern travellers have thrown on this so-called future religion of
the world, people still continue to hold most fantastic and dis-
torted ideas concerning it. They still persist in calling it a
Religion ; though the sense in which we understand such a word
does not justify the application in the present instance. We
may call it a System of Philosophy, or an Ethical System, or
Atheism, but nothing better. Persons ignorant of what they
assert are still applying the odious appellation of idols to the
numerous statues crowding the precincts of a Buddhist temple,
while they nickname the large central one of Buddha, Gaudama,
a God when any one with the least knowledge of Buddhism
knows that the Burmese worship no idols, adore no God. Are
we, then, to consider them as Atheists ? Well " distinguo," inas-
much as Atheism is made to imply a distinct denial of God,
they are not atheists ; inasmuch as the same term is used for a
non-recognition of a Supreme Being, they are. In our own col-
lege-days, and I have every reason to believe that it is the same
now, our philosophical and theological professors impressed it
upon us with all the solemn importance of superior intelligence,
that an Atheist was a non-such, an utter impossibility. With all
due deference to their dictum, I beg to be allowed to state that
the fact is now no longer controvertible, lying as it does even
beyond the possibility of doubt. It is a matter of stern, though
regrettable, reality, that not only are there individual Atheists in
the flesh, but whole nations of them. Nay, more: that the
greater part of the human race, albeit not the most refined, nor
the most cultured, profess, if not positively at least negatively,
rank Atheism. That four hundred millions of human beings, not
only worship no God, but have not even a name for Him. I will
go even further and say, though I shudder in saying it, that the
Shintoists and Shamaists of Japan, the Confucianists and Taou-
ists of China, and the christianizing Lamaists of Tibet, are all
rank Atheists theoretically and practically, as I have found out
by actual intercourse with them in Indo-China. If such be the
case, as it undoubtedly is, the number of Atheists in the world

1,84',.-' THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Nov.,

is s$Eprisingly and alarmingly great.* Instead, therefore, of blink-
ing t"^ question or flatly denying the fact, we should 'find reme-
dial measures for its suppression, or at least diminution. But to
return.

When I was in Burmah a friend of mine wrote asking me
to send him one of the " Praying-Wheels " used by the Bur-
mans to pray with. Who has not heard of the Buddhist " Pray-
ing-Wheels," and not implicitly believed in them ? Yet their ex-
istence is as fabulous as that of the Lotophagi in Homer.
People still labor under the delusive impression acquired in
books, that the Buddhists have a vicarious and convenient way
of praying that is to say, they pray by machinery ; they put
their petitions into a wheel and unroll them by the length. So
far from Burmans praying, as it were, by the mile, they never
pray at all. Prayer presupposes a belief in the existence of a
God. We have already seen that Burmans have no God to pray
to for blessings and help, and by consequence no prayer.

ADALBERT AMANDOLINE, O.S.B.

* This is the opinion of the writer, which is not in agreement with that of many other
competent witnesses and judges, and cannot be received as decisive. EDITOR.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

1891.] THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.

' r v '

. ufario.

THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.

CAMBRIDGE in the Long Vacation, and chilled by an autum-
nal August, was dejected by comparison with Oxford in June,
and in festival for Commemoration. However, I had seen Cam-
bridge otherwise, in a far-away May, when the Backs, as they un-
beautifully call the college meadows, were white and golden with
the riches of the buttercup and the drift of the little daisies.
Very charming it was then, the trees having their first tender
veil of green, and the river running brown under its bridges :
and if the sun was hot, was there not coolness in chapel and
cloister? And a group of Newnham girls, in virginal white,
sashed with yellow, and slim when all the rest of the feminine
world was dress-improved, looked like the very spirits of the
spring.

Cambridge lies north-easterly, and on the borders of the fen-
country. Very beautiful and strange are the fens, like a little
bit of Holland set down amid British soil. They stretch away
illimitably, giving a wide sky ; a wet and wild sunset, with long
sheets of orange and yellow, I saw reproduced in the watery
earth. There are dikes and gates, and little ribbons of sluggish
streams, wandering away whither they will and stealing under
little bridges, like the pictures on a willow-pattern plate. The red
and white cattle go home along solid causeways, in great relief
against the empty sky. The March flowers are yellow and pur-
ple, and the coarse grasses silver-green. It has a pathetic beauty
of loneliness, and the wind-mills, waving their ghostly arms,
are the only high-lights in the picture. I am in love with
wind-mills, which here in Ireland one never sees outside a
picture.

Cambridge seems less of a university and more of a town than
Oxford. It has no such memorable street as " The High " at
Oxford, and King's Parade and Trumpington Street are far less
worthy settings for their jewels. The streams of running water
beside the pathways in all the streets are a unique thing. They
come from Hobson's Conduit, which was built by the gentleman
whose peremptoriness gave rise to the phrase " Hobson's choice."
At his livery-stable the horses were hired out each in turn, and
none could choose for himself ; hence the phrase. He died in

1 86 THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. [Nov.,

1631, but his conduit and his "choice" remain to perpetuate
him.

Cambridge was a centre of learning long before college-build-
ing began there. Priories and convents foregathered on this
wide plain, and flourished much. Peterhouse is the oldest col-
lege ; it was built in 1284 by Hugh de Balsham, Bishop of Ely.
It has a window in the chapel copied from Rubens's Cruci-
fixion. But there is so much new work, or at least post-
Reformation work, mixed up with the old building that Peter-
house has little of the dim radiance of the early foundations at
Oxford.

The great thing at Cambridge is, of course, King's College
Chapel. The founder of King's was the meek and saintly Henry
VI., not blustering Harry the Eighth, whose initials with Anne
Boleyn's are scrolled through love-knots on the great screen of
the chapel. Eton and King's College were the foundations of
Henry VI., and the aristocratic young gentlemen of Eton, the
wearers of perpetual top-hats and cut-away jackets, come here
for their university training, so that King's is the most aristo-
cratic of all the colleges. At each angle of the chapel springs a
lofty octagonal tower, with the great windows between ; along
the sides are eleven buttresses in four stages, ending eleven feet
above the roof in slender pinnacles. Between the lower but-
tresses are little chapelries. Outside it is all very massive and
stately, but within is the great beauty. The chapel is 316 feet
long, and the sides of it are one flame of stained glass after an-
other, the twenty-six great windows being just separated by
slender lines of delicate stone-work. The fan-tracery of the roof,
which springs unsupported by a single pillar, is fine and ex-
quisite : one gets an idea of its poising when one is told that
each keystone, alternately the Tudor rose and the Beaufort
portcullis, at the centre of the fans, weighs a ton.

The chapel is divided not quite midway by a splendid oak
screen and organ-gallery. This belongs to the date of Holbein's
Harry, for he finished what Henry VI. had begun and labored
at till the Wars of the Roses came tumbling about his gentle
and ill-fated head. Henry VII., too, carried on the work of
building in between, and gave the chapel, no doubt, that stamp
of his which makes it an edition in great of his chapel in West-
minster Abbey. The floor is paved in black and white marble ;
the stalls are richly carved in splendid dark oak. Altogether it
is a great temple, and its perpendicular Gothic makes one more

1891.] THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 187

than ever out of love with the pagan style of church-building
which followed the Reformation.

The time to see King's would be, I imagine, at dawn or at
sunset, when half the place would be glory and half rich shadow.
I have been there at Even-song in winter, when the candles
shed a little light around themselves, making one realize how vast
the place was. It had the glamour of university life then, with
the choristers in their white robes, and all the other picturesque
things. On an August Sunday it lacked somewhat with its au-
dience of mainly townsfolk, but the choir was still there and the
singing curiously beautiful. I forget whose the anthem was I
think it was Spohr's but it thrilled one through and through.
First the bass began in deep organ tones, solemn and slow, his
recitative.

" Come up hither," he sang, " and I will show thee what shall
be hereafter." Then the tenor, light and clear and sweet, chant-
ing the vision of John in Patmos : " And lo ! a throne was set
in Heaven, and on the throne One stood. And a rainbow, was
round about the throne, and the elders knelt before the throne,
clad in white raiment, and on their heads were crowns of gold.
And from the throne came thunderings and lightnings, and
voices crying by day and night." " Holy, Holy, Holy ! " rings
out tenor and choir in a great flood of majestic voices, " Lord
God of Hosts, God Almighty, who wast, and who art, and art
yet to come." Then, after all that triumph, a boy's voice, shrill
and sweet and penetrating, soars like the voice of a bird, but full
of mournfulness : " Behold the Lamb that was slain." There was
a long pause after the young voice had died away, and then the
tenor took up his song of consolation : " Weep no more : Be-
hold He that died is arisen, and hath conquered death and hell."
And once more the bass in recitative : " And the elders fell down
before the Lamb, with their harps and golden urns bearing
odors, singing this song of praise." " All glory to the Lamb,"
sing all the voices in unison, " that died, and is exalted at God's
right hand. To Him is blessing and wisdom, and honor and
praise for ever."

The Protestant Church, or at least a section of it, has begun
to be wise in its generation. It has come to recognize the value
of symbol and music, and color and light the things it had re-
jected with more precious things. The choral services are a
part of the latter-day Renaissance, whose star certainly arose in
Rome. Canon Scott, the Catholic priest who was watching

i88 THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. [Nov.,

proudly over the completion of his great church, which dominates
Cambridge from its position near the railway station, had
something to say apropos of this. An Anglican parson, kindly-
natured, coming to see the church, said to him : " Ah ! you are
thirty years too late. When I was a boy here, if you had
opened such a church you would have drawn all Cambridge."
This cathedral church is the munificent gift of Mrs. Lyne-
Stephens, of Brandon in Norfolk, a great benefactress of the
church.

King's College does not draw all the suffrages of choral-
service-goers, however. Jesus Chapel, if anything, has the pre-
ference. Jesus College is one of the smaller colleges of Cam-
bridge, and one of the most beautiful. It was the old nunnery
of St. Rhadegund, the patron saint of Cambridge, and, quaint
and old-world and retired, it still suggests the nunnery. Bishop
Alcock of Ely converted it into a college, the convent having
decayed in 1497. His punning device, a cock on a globe, occurs
frequently through the college. It is remote and quiet, at the
edge of the town, and is quite unique in its beautiful ivy-
covered court, which faces the meadows. The ivy is the thickest
and glossiest imaginable, and is populated by myriads of birds.
The windows look out of it like kindly eyes : they are pretty
windows, with little pointed arches.

The chapel is the nuns' old chapel, though of course much
altered. Alcock docked it of its proportions by pulling down
the side chapels and aisles. Less magnificent than King's, it is
in some respects more interesting. It has most beautiful lancet
windows in the chancel, tapering in a fine slender point, and
faced on the opposite side by a double piscina and graduated
sedilia. It was restored in the forties quite well and worthily,
but the glass of that age of darkness looks vulgar and trumpery
by comparison with the Burne-Jones' windows in the north
transept. In the south transept is the tomb of one of the nuns,
with the inscription " Moribus ornata, jacet hie bona Berta
Rosata." Jesus has charming old cloisters, quiet and green like
all college cloisters.

Trinity is the largest of Cambridge colleges, and appeals to
one by its measurements as Christ Church does at Oxford. The
great court of Trinity has an area of over seventy-nine thousand
feet. Bluebeard Harry gathered up the endowments of several
small foundations and flung them into this great one. With
his crown and his sceptre he straddles over the great gateway.

1891.] THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 189

There are five courts in Trinity, but Chapel Hall and Master's
Lodge are all in the great court. The library with its pillared
piazza beneath is in Neville's Court, on the river-side of the
college.

Trinity Chapel is painted all over walls and ceiling with pre-
Raphaelite saints and angels, the work of Mr. Henry Holiday,
the well-known Home-Rule artist. There is not a bit of bare
wall in it. The library was built by Sir Christopher Wren, and
has the Protestant coldness which one associates with his work.
It is too high and too light, for all its curious allegorical stained
window designed by Cipriani, who decorated the Dublin Rotun-
da Chapel for Dr. Morse more than a century ago. It is paved
in black and white marble, and all down its length are ghostly
white busts. It is the very antipodes of Merton Library in Ox-
ford, which in its dimness and richness seems to me an ideal
college library. On the stairway we saw a bronze bust of
Frank Balfour, our chief secretary's brother, a man of great
mind and heart, and what a Roman would call " civic virtue."
"Ah!" sigh the English Home-Rulers, "if he had lived Arthur
would not have been running amuck in Ireland as he is doing
now." The bronze face was curiously like the dilettante face we
know in cartoons, with none of its superciliousness and an added
nobility.

Trinity Hall is the most beautiful of Trinity buildings, and
under a curtain it has Sir Joshua Reynolds's Duke of Gloucester
as a boy, a perennial glory of youth and grace. The Hall satis-
fies one's ideal of what is proper to a university, with its oriel
windows with painted shields let in, and around the walls the
coats-of-arms of dead masters and fellows. The roof, of open
wood-work descending in little stalactites and pinnacles, is brown
and gold, and one enters under a fine screen and music-gallery
of carved oak.

John's, hard by Trinity, strikes one with a great sense of
richness. It is of a deep red color, and has a most beautifully
decorated gateway. Lady Margaret Beaufort built St. John's as
well as Christ's College, so her rose and portcullis are in evi-
dence in Cambridge, as is also her pretty device of a daisy.
After wedding three husbands and becoming the mother of a
king of England, she ended her days in a convent. Her picture,
in her nun's robes, is on the staircase of the master's lodge at
John's, and again in the master's lodge at Christ's, where for a
time she resided. She left the latter college some of her plate,

190 THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. [Nov.,

including two beautiful silver salt-cellars and a set of apostle
spoons.

John's has three courts, and is next in size to Trinity. The
second court, also the most beautiful, was built by Margaret,
Countess of Shrewsbury ; so it will be seen that women had a
large share in the glory of this college. The chapel has been
restored by Sir Gilbert Scott, and is not out of harmony. The
library is long, with great windows, and has many precious manu-
scripts. These are snugly stored away behind sliding panels,
with a cunning which highly pleased George Eliot when she
sojourned here. My guide and hostess, who was the widow of a
master of John's, could pass everywhere, so we saw the kitchens
with their apparatus for cooking the meals of giants, and pene-
trated to the master's lodge, a beautiful house in a green garden
all to itself, with polished dark floors and stately old-world fur-
niture, and oriel windows through whose mosaics of color the
sun sent sharp flames. Everywhere was wood-panelling, and
carved mantel-pieces, and the other beautiful things belonging to
a nation and a place which has long enjoyed leisure and pros-
perity.

I saw Milton's mulberry-tree at Christ's, all built around with
sheet-lead to prop its age, and I ate some of the wine-red
fruit. I took tea in the combination-room at Sidney Sussex Col-
lege, which was built by Sir Philip Sidney's aunt, and strolled
afterwards in the green and ancient Fellows' Garden. At Gon-
ville and Caius I went through the Gate of Humility, the Gate
of Wisdom, and the Gate of Virtue, all leading up to the Gate
of Honor, by which sententious little bit of allegory Dr. John
Caius, a London physician, and a Cambridge college-builder and
master of the seventeenth century, strove to inculcate a lesson in
the mind of the undergraduate. At Clare College I penetrated
to the rooms of an absent undergraduate, inspected his photo-
graphs, and admired the contents of his pipe-rack. Happy under-
graduate, to possess that cushioned window-seat overlooking the
fair prospect of bridge and river and garden !

Queen's College, the foundation of Margaret of Anjou fol-
lowed by Elizabeth Woodville, boasts a cloister as well as Jesus.
Erasmus abode here when he visited England at the invitation
of Blessed John Fisher.

Magdalen College I did not inspect, though there is to be
seen the manuscripts of Pepys Diary, in which he chattered to
himself of things and persons in three thousand pages of short-

1891.] THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 191

hand. Also there is a little book in which he took down from
Charles the Second's own lips the account of his escape after
the battle of Worcester. Sir Peter Lely's picture of the diarist
hangs in the combination-room of Magdalen, and one by
Kneller in the master's lodge. Altogether, I'm sorry I didn't
see Magdalen, for good Mr. Pepys' sake.

Emmanuel College is puritanical and unlovely. Dorothy Os-
borne's Sir William Temple was a student there. Downing has
nothing to show. Selwyn, the Church of England college by
excellence, is too new to have much interest, though for the
sake of its master, Arthur Lyttleton, Lady Frederick Cavendish's
brother, and a most generous Home-Ruler, one gives a kindly
thought to it.

Home Rule is bad form in Cambridge, just as Catholicism
is, and perhaps for the same reason. For the forty-four
Home-Rule dons of Oxford, Cambridge gives us a beggarly ac-
count of a dozen or so, and the religion of Cambridge, when it
is not materialistic, is the less lovely kind of Protestantism.

Contrariwise, Cambridge has been far more generous to the
cause of the education of women than the sister university. I
suppose when mathematical Cambridge does move it is to Radi-
calism, a levelling movement which has little poetry. Newnham
College, when I saw it in my dead and gone May it was the
old portion, of which Miss Gladstone is principal, I then saw-
was steeped in sunshine, and the girls were lying on the grass-
plots with their books, and one or two were sculling a boat on
the river. I have the brightest recollections of it, with its floors
scrubbed as clean as a convent's, and its dainty rooms as spot-
less as a convent cell, though with belongings far more varied
and numerous. I visited Clough Hall, the bigger building
across the road, in August, and drank tea with Miss Clough, the
principal, the sister of Arthur Hugh Clough. It was less cheer-
ful in a rainy August evening, and being vacation-time the little
rooms were less pretty, but there was still plenty left to show
the bias of the occupant. The rooms have all pretty corner-
windows, the architect having known the charm of irregularity.
The furniture has a monotony of prettiness, an art-square on
the polished floor, a bureau with brass handles, a writing-table,
an easy-chair, and art-muslin on the windows. I saw scarcely
any more original departure. The girls here are mostly limited
to one room, but the sleeping and dressing accommodations are
tucked away so cunningly behind curtains that no one could de-

192 THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. [Nov.,

tect their presence. The hall, with its long windows from floor
to ceiling, is a fine room, and the table on the raised dais had
all the magazines of the time lying upon it. This room can be
added to on occasion by the help of folding-doors, which must
make it a stately stretch indeed ; but it is only magnified for
great occasions when there is a Greek play, for example.

The library is a charming room, with deep bay-windows em-
bowered in roses and creepers. The books, which have gathered
so as to need an auxiliary book-room, have a more than ordi-
nary interest. Here is Ruskin, the complete set of him, bound
in purple morocco and given by himself ; Darwin's books are
here, given by his son and biographer, who lives out on the ris-
ing road which leads to Girton, and one or two insignificant
places as well, perhaps. Mrs. Green, the widow of John Richard
Green of Oxford, who herself ambitioned a few years ago to be
principal of Girton, has given her husband's books. She is an
Irishwoman, and the actual principal, Miss Walsh, is Irish at least
by name. Richmond's portraits of Miss dough and Miss Glad-
stone adorn the wall, as well as Mrs. Henry Sidgwick by Shan-
non, which was in the New Gallery of 1889. Drawings given by
Mr. Ruskin hang on the library walls, and on those of the hall.

What one has written of Newnham may be applied to Girton.
The older college is the biggest, and is of quite imposing dimen-
sions. Without it is all of red brick, and within it is, perhaps,
brighter in tone than Newnham. And the students have their
little sets of rooms, and are not restricted to one. One drives
to Girton through an open country with corn-fields whitening, and
ragged hedges to remind my untravelled heart of Ireland.

Very delightful it must be for the Board School teacher and
others who come in the long vacation, under the university
extension scheme, to pitch their tents a little while by those
pleasant waters. Like those happier ones who were here in "the
sweet o' the year," they have their teas and their tennis, their
reading in shady green nooks, and their impromptu concerts,
with lectures on many subjects, and excursions about the fen-
country, and " across the salt marshes " to pleasant Ely. Parties
of them went out boating on the river that slips through such
green places, past Clare and King's and Trinity, and under the
beautiful old bridge of John's, and the covered bridge which
they call the Bridge of Sighs. Dear and delicious are those col-
lege gardens, with turf which has been growing velvety and
trees which have gathered birds and blossoms through centuries.

1891.] THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 193

Imagine the overworked young teachers who come here from
the Black Country and such places, and the precious little pause
of rest and air it must mean to them ! And then to live in
those pure little rooms, full of sunshine and cool air, and bright
with pretty things ! The visit must be a notable thing to such
visitors.

" A little city far away,
A churlish sky, a sluggish stream,
Tall clustering trees and gardens fair,
Dark birds that circle in the air,
Gray towers and fanes : on either hand
Stretches of wind-swept meadow-land."

This was Cambridge in " the Long," as poor Miss Amy Levy,
who was a Newnham graduate, describes it. My memory of it
has a certain pensiveness that fits in with the picture. The place
needs the overflowing life and youth which returns in October,
to balance all that age which tells us how much more enduring
are the things built by man's hands than he, the builder. Full
of poetry is a university town and the life there. One delights
in the old ceremonial and stateliness, which never go out of date,
as much as in the beautiful inanimate things which were raised
to the glory of God, and for the advancement of learning, by
hands long crumbled to dust.

KATHARINE TYNAN.

VOL. LIV. 13

194 THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. [Nov.,

THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE.

IV.
A FEW MORE WORDS ON MIRACLES.

THE two articles of Father Hughes on the miracles of St.
Francis Xavier, which were a continuation of the discussion con-
tained in the first three articles of the present series, entitled
"Warfare of Science," have done ample justice to that topic.

In closing the series, I wish to add a few words on the gen-
eral spirit and method of the polemics of different classes of
writers against the common belief of Catholics in the reality and
supernatural character of certain facts and phenomena recorded
in the ancient and modern annals of the church.

I make no special reference to the scientific articles of Dr.
White, and what I have to say applies, more or less, not only
to writers who represent the warfare waged in the name of sci-
ence against supernatural religion, but also to those who contend
in the interest of their own form of religion, with a full recogni-
tion of the supernatural character of Christianity, against specific
Catholicism.

All alike, those who make a clean sweep of everything super-
natural and miraculous, and those others who restrict their denial
to the supernatural and miraculous in the Catholic Church, are
open to the charge that their spirit and method are unscientific.
They are false to those fundamental principles and laws of logic
on which all philosophy is founded. False to the laws of obser-
vation and induction on which the physical sciences are based.
False to the rules of evidence by which trustworthy history is
constructed.

The thorough-going and consistent rationalists and agnostics
assume the impossibility of supernatural religion. They start
from this position as an a priori postulate. Their method is.
sceptical. Their judgment of the miraculous and other momen-
tous facts on which revealed religion, from Adam to Moses, from
Moses to Christ, from Christ to the present moment, rests, is not
a calm, impartial, judicial summary of the results of historical
research and philosophical investigation, an induction, according
to logical principles, from the evidence furnished by the universal

1891.] THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. 195

mass of the facts in the case. It is nothing but a sceptical and
destructive criticism, in which all the materials for sound and
solid science are ingeniously manipulated to establish a foregone
conclusion.

Scriptural and ecclesiastical miracles are treated in precisely
the same way, by this class of writers.

Another class proceed in a Catholic spirit and by a Catholic
method, in their historical and argumentative treatment of the
documents and events of the revealed religion of the patriarchs,
Moses and Christ, until they reach the period when, according
to them, Catholicism has its beginning and goes on in its develop-
ment. Here they make a sudden break, and adopt the spirit
and method of those against whom they have been contending,
not reflecting that the weapon which they throw is a boomerang
sure to recoil with deadly force on themselves.

The great mass of extraordinary phenomena and alleged facts
which are more or less outside of the familiar and usual course
of nature are of many and extremely various kinds. There are
those which, although unusual and apparently marvellous, may be
referred to purely natural causes operating according to laws of
nature. Others may be regarded as the effect of natural causes
working abnormally. It is at least difficult to draw an exact
line between the domain of the natural and the border-land of
the preternatural, and therefore in many cases it is doubtful on
which side of the border certain extraordinary phenomena ought
to be located.

Again, there are many facts and phenomena which probably
or certainly are preternatural, denoting a partial lifting of the
veil between the sensible and the super-sensible world. Some of
these influences coming in from the invisible world may be ap-
parently or evidently from a good source. Others from an evil
source. Often their quality is, at least for a time, doubtful.
Above all, are strictly supernatural effects, produced by God
through the instrumentality of his angelic or human ministers, or
immediately by the exercise of divine power. These are mira-
cles in the proper sense of the word.

Of all the multitude of events having more or less the ap-
pearance of the miraculous, or of a quality bordering on the
supernatural, narrated in the works of respectable Catholic writers
and obtaining a general acceptance as credible, the greater part,
taken singly, cannot be submitted to the tests of an exact inves-
tigation, in ordinary discussion and controversy. It is necessary

196 THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. [Nov.,

to select some in regard to which the evidence is accessible
without great trouble, and to make these test-cases. The ques-
tion about the general credibility of the marvellous narrations
contained in ecclesiastical history and hagiography can then be
easily discussed and decided on general principles like other his-
torical questions.

It is necessary to have some kind of intelligent view of the
subject, which is too important a matter to be overlooked. Sup-
pose one rejects altogether the allegation of Catholic authorities
and the belief of the Catholic people, respecting the miraculous
and supernatural character of a series of facts and phenomena at-
tested by ecclesiastical history, from the days of the apostles to
the present time. He must have some theory to account for
the attestation, and the common belief of not only the simple
faithful but the educated and learned as well.

For instance, Ven. Bede relates that St. Gregory the Great
wrote as follows to the Patriarch of Alexandria concerning St.
Augustine, the first Archbishop of Canterbury : " News has just
reached me of his well-being and wonderful deeds ; so that either
he, or those who were sent with him, have so shone out, by the
gift of miracles among this people, that they seem to be like
the Apostles in the signs they have wrought." *

One theory is that the Papal system is a colossal imposture
in which charlatanism of every description has been practised for
the deception arid enslavement of the people. And in every case
where preternatural influences and agencies are manifested, these
are regarded as diabolical.

This is a theory of fanatics, which could never find any cre-
dence except in a dark age of the densest ignorance. But in a
less extreme and offensive form, the imputation of conscious and
dishonest craft and unscrupulousness is still very general in anti-
Catholic polemics, as an heirloom from the past period of violent
warfare against the Catholic religion. Hence, there is a distrust,
a suspicion of testimony from Catholic sources.

If the theory of conscious and voluntary imposture and prac-
tising on the credulity and superstition of the multitude is found
to be too crude and extravagant to be tenable, the rulers,
teachers, and ecclesiastics of the church are themselves cred-
ited with superstition and credulity. They are regarded as
being first dupes in their own persons, before proceeding to

* Vit. Aug., c. xxxix. See Conversion of the Franks and English, by Mrs. Hope, part
iii. c. i.

1891.] THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. 197

dupe the people. A great part of ecclesiastical history and
biography is regarded as mythical and legendary, and Catholic
hagiography as a record of hallucinations. The general igno-
rance and prejudice in regard to all things Catholic enable-
writers and speakers to throw over them a mist, and to avoid
meeting in direct argument the true issues in all important
questions. Particularly, in the case of miraculous and super-
natural facts and phenomena, the Catholic statement and plea
is not fairly and squarely met and discussed. Remote and
dubious instances are the ones chosen for criticism, and the
whole subject is treated in a hazy and superficial manner. The
learned and carefully reasoned writings of Catholics are to a
great extent ignored. The Agnostic tribe pursues this policy in
a consistent and wholesale manner, toward those learned and
able Protestants who unite their forces to ours in the defence of
supernatural religion, the Bible, and Christianity, as well as
toward Catholic apologists. It is the policy of putting in a plea
in bar, and avoiding the discussion of facts and arguments, by a
contemptuous assertion that supernatural religion is impossible,
incredible, and unworthy of any examination of its evidences.
All testimony to miracles and supernatural phenomena is ruled
out by the plea in bar, the sceptical formula of Hume.

Inconsistent supernaturalists, who undertake the vain labor of
uniting a defence of- Christianity with a rejection of Catholicism,
adopt the same policy, as soon as they quit their constructive
for their destructive work. The former class of opponents of
the Catholic religion, and of religion in general, represent all re-
ligion as the product of a long, dark age, on which the light of
science is just beginning to dawn. All religions are classed to-
gether, and priestcraft, imposture, superstition, credulity, -fabulous
tradition, ignorance, an uncontrolled play of childish imagination,
hallucinations of extravagant mysticism, fanciful speculation about
unreal and unknowable objects, make up the sum-total of what
has passed for the supernatural in all times and countries.
Hence, all those who in this period, blessed by the beginning of
enlightenment, appear as Christian theologians, or even as ra-
tional metaphysicians, are to be passed over with a smile of de-
rision as unworthy of a hearing, and having nothing to propose
but dreams belonging to a state of somnolence.

For the latter class, the dark age is the mediaeval Christian
period, Catholicism is the religion of a long night, coming after
a brief day of light at the beginning of apostolic Christianity,

198 THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. [Nov.,

and followed by the dawn of the Reformation, brightening gradu-
ally into the perfect day of evangelical truth and piety. There-
fore, the advocates of the Catholic religion are children of dark-
ness, credulity, and superstition. If they are supposed to be too
intelligent and clear-sighted to be dupes, they are credited with
duplicity, and craft in the employment of all available means for
preserving and increasing their spiritual domination over the sim-
ple and ignorant multitude, taking advantage of their credulity.
Even if some good intention of benefiting the people through
the instrumentality of religion is conceded to them, they are
nevertheless often accused of acting on the maxim that the end
sanctifies the means, and that it is lawful to deceive the people
for their own spiritual and moral good.

It. is impossible to seize and confine within definite limits the
Proteus-shape of the common prejudice and misapprehension of
the Catholic religion prevalent among both uneducated and edu-
cated Protestants. We would fain hope that there is not much
malice and wilful opposition to the truth in them, but there is a
vast amount of ignorance. Father Hecker once said to one of
our most distinguished literary men, a friend of his : " You are
ignorant, and you are ignorant of your ignorance."

It is certainly very trying to the feelings of an honorable
man to hear the hierarchy and clergy of the church calumniated
as either ambitious and artful deceivers, or as benighted and
credulous dupes of a superstition. However, this kind of abuse
is really not worth minding. The general tone of opinion and
sentiment toward the Catholic Church is gradually becoming
more fair and liberal. The best scholars, theologians, and histo-
rians write in a more candid and amicable spirit, and in general
the violence of the internecine polemics of a former time has
been modified and assuaged, though there are not a few consid-
erable exceptions.

Without wasting indignation on those who wish to put us
out of the pale of honorable warfare, I hope to be believed by
all who are worthy of being invited to a friendly discussion, in
repudiating all accusations or suspicions of intentional connivance
at pious frauds on the part of the Catholic clergy. All kinds
of forgeries, falsifications, impostures in respect to relics, mira-
cles, visions, and revelations are grievous sins according to moral
theology, and, of course, so also is sanction of the same by any
kind of authority. The fathers and saints, the apostolic men
and prelates, the pious priests and religious who have trans-

1891.] THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. 199

mitted the Catholic tradition were incapable of practising or
sanctioning fraud. There have been impostors and charlatans,
deceivers and dupes of hallucination ; and men in authority of
the greatest intelligence and honesty, as well as others who are
not very wise and prudent, are liable to be deceived sometimes.
There are many ways, however, of detecting frauds, and the
laws of the church have always been very strict in regard to
their perpetrators, the punishments also very severe, when eccle-
siastical magistrates had the power of inflicting them.

Tradition, as it is found in history, biography, and all other
modes of transmission, undoubtedly has a considerable amount
of the legendary, and much more of the unverifiable, mingled
with its certainly or probably credible testimonies. But this is
no evidence of wilful and systematic falsification, which cannot
be ascribed to particular persons or classes, unless there is proof
or reasonable presumption of dishonesty, as in the instances of
Luitprand, Isidore, and similar forgers or mendacious writers,
with whom the church is noways compromised. Ecclesiastical
history is in general veracious and trustworthy. It is the busi-
ness of historical criticism to relegate the false, the doubtful, the
legendary elements to their proper place, and to set in clear and
bold relief the true record of facts, which vindicates itself the
more successfully, the more accurate are the tests applied to it,
and gains in credibility with the lapse of time and the extension
of research.

The Catholic spirit is not only abhorrent of all fraudulence
and charlatanism in religion, but wholly averse from credulity.
There is not that avidity for extraordinary experiences, super-
natural manifestations, the marvellous and the miraculous, in
saints and persons given to mystic contemplation which many
suppose. These things have a very subordinate place given
them by our great theologians and spiritual writers. All who
seek to enter on the higher walks of spiritual life are especially
cautioned not to seek after or even to desire extraordinary
graces and communications, not to accept with facility what
appears to be supernatural, and, above all, not to take pride in
and make a display of it for their own vainglory. Those who
have the direction and guidance either interior or exterior of
persons who seem to have any supernatural gifts are extremely
cautious in giving credence and sanction to their disclosures
about apparitions, visions, revelations, ecstasies, and all such
spiritual phenomena. In regard to external facts which have a

200 THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. [Nov.,

miraculous appearance, the ecclesiastical authorities are always
slow and reserved in giving approbation even to a general and
well-founded belief in their reality.

The a priori assumption that miracles are impossible and un-
provable is unreasonable and utterly futile, if the existence of
God is admitted. The only thing to be examined and con-
sidered is the question of fact. Even an atheist, unless he is an
absolute sceptic, and especially if he pretends to be scientific, is
bound to admit the reality of facts and phenomena which are
matters of observation and experience, and proved by sufficient
testimony, no matter how extraordinary they may be.

The miracles of Christ and the apostles are as well-attested
as any historical facts whatever. The resurrection of our Lord
gives irrefragable evidence of the reality of the order of super-
natural events and divine revelations of which it is the culmina-
tion, to say nothing of the independent evidence of the reality
of the whole history of religion from the creation. And once
admitting the reality of the supernatural and the miraculous in
the history of religion, the continuance and succession of pheno-
mena in later periods, similar to those of earlier epochs, is so
probable that their reality is credible on the evidence which is
accepted for historical facts which are wholly within the ordi-
nary course of nature.

The general belief of a great body of intelligent, educated,
and honest Christians that there have been miracles in all subse-
quent ages, as well as in the apostolic age, makes a sufficient
presumption in their favor to furnish a motive for a careful and
impartial examination of the evidence on which this belief rests.
It is not a mere otiose acceptance of a pious tradition, the result
of a tendency to passively accept whatever is narrated in re-
ligious books, or reported by common hearsay testimony. Be-
sides this common assent prevalent among the mass of the faith-
ful, who may be supposed to be inclined by their mental and
moral disposition to an easy credulity, there is the reasoned con-
viction of the most intelligent and every way competent judges
of the cause in question, who are either immediate witnesses of
the facts, or who are cognizant of the testimony and evidence
which are forthcoming as the ground for a reasonable convic-
tion.

It would require a volume, and a most interesting volume it
would be, to present a series of the most extraordinary and best
authenticated miraculous events narrated in ecclesiastical annals,

1891.] THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. 201

in all ages of the Christian Church. There are many such in
regard to which the evidence is accessible and capable of being
presented in a manner which is conclusive and unanswerable.
In point of fact, this has been repeatedly done, to a certain
extent, and in regard to a number of single instances, and this
even by such an implacable enemy as Gibbon.

I will point out a few of these, not with the intention of
reproducing the testimony and the argument based upon it, but
merely in illustration of my thesis, and to indicate a way by
which honest inquirers may test its truth by further examina-
tion.

First, there is the continuous and regularly recurring miracle
of the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius. This is a fact
which has bid defiance to every attempt to deny its reality or
to explain and account for it by any other than a supernatural
cause. Besides several books in which this remarkable occur-
rence is treated of, there is a series of articles on the subject
by the late Bishop Lynch, a prelate eminent for his scientific
attainments, in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, vols. xiii. and xiv., pp.
33, 200, 391, 526, 772.

The character and career of Joan of Arc fill a conspicuous
place in the history of France. A library has been written
about this noble heroine, and the historical documents are abun-
dant. During the last scholastic year, Dr. O'Gorman gave a
course of public lectures at the Catholic University of Washing-
ton on the Maid of Orleans, in which these documents were
exhaustively brought to bear upon his truly historical and elo-
quent portraiture of the virgin warrior and deliverer of France.
These lectures have not been published, but we hope that, with
other historical essays of the same learned professor, they may
be, at no distant date, given to the" world.

Joan of Arc is an insoluble conundrum on any hypothesis
except one : that her mission was supernatural.

Another signal case is the miraculous conversion of the Jew
Alphonse Ratisbonne, an account of which may be found in an
article entitled " Two Miraculous Conversions from Judaism,"
in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, vol. xxxix., August, 1884.

The miracles of Lourdes are narrated in the volumes pub-
lished by M. Lasserre with abundance of the most trustworthy
testimonies, and a select number of cases are proved in a con-
clusive manner by Father Searle, who is an eminent scientist as
well as a theologian, in an article entitled " Dr. Hammond on

202 THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. [Nov.,

Miracles," in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, vol. xxxiii., page 433
et seq*

The extreme and rigorous care and exactness of the pro-
cesses of the Congregation of Rites in the examination of the
proofs of miracles proposed in the causes of canonization
brought before the Holy See, are well known and have been
often described. All the miracles accepted by this congregation
are proved by evidence which would be decisive in any case
before any court in Christendom.

In our own country, and in the city of Washington, we have
within the last fifty years the miraculous cure of Mrs. Mat-
tingly, whose disease was cancer in its last stage. All the cir-
cumstances of this case are attested by medical testimony and
the affidavits of most respectable witnesses, sworn to before a
magistrate. Dr. Bellinger, president of the Medical Association
of South Carolina, wrote a full account of this case, which he
requested the association to examine and report upon ; a task
which they declined, probably because they were too scientific
to take notice of a professed miracle. A carefully prepared his-
tory of Mrs. Mattingly's cure is contained in the Appendix to
the complete works of Bishop England, published by Mr.
Murphy, of Baltimore, in 1849.

A popular writer f in one of our American magazines, in an
article entitled " Our Roman Catholic Brethren," gave a fair
account of the evidence in Mrs. Mattingly's case, and gave his
judgment on it, to the effect, that if it were attested by a still
greater amount of evidence, and by the testimony of his own
senses, he would sooner regard all this as an illusion than admit
a miracle.

Gibbon, after mentioning the testimonies to the fact of the
confessors of Tipasa speaking after their tongues had been cut
out at the roots, says of the witnesses : " They all lived within
the compass of a century ; and they all appeal to their personal
knowledge, or the public notoriety, for the truth of a miracle,
which was repeated in -several instances, displayed on the great-
est theatre of the world, and submitted, during a series of years,
to the calm examination of the senses."

Then he adds, with a sneer worthy of Mephistopheles : " The

* The latest work on Lourdes is Docteur Boissarie, Lourdes, Histoire Mtdicale. Paris :
V. Lecoffre. "A History of the Sanctuary of Lourdes, comprising some three hundred cer-
tificates of Miraculous Cures," London Tablet, September 26, 1891, p. 492.

t James Parton, Atlantic Monthly, vol. xxi. pp. 432, 556.

1891.] THE WARFARE OF SCIENCE. 203

supernatural gift of the African confessors, who spoke without
tongues, will command the assent of those, and of those only,
who already believe that their language was pure and orthodox.
But the stubborn mind of the infidel is guarded by secret, in-
curable suspicion ; and the Arian, or Socinian, who has seriously
rejected the doctrine of the Trinity, will not be shaken by the
most plausible evidence of an Athanasian miracle."*

Such a measure as this, applied to well-attested occurrences,
is unscientific in the extremest degree. " It requires more credu-
lity to accept such an explanation than to believe all the
mediaeval legends indiscriminately. The universal application of
such a rule would subvert all the sciences. But the deniers of
all supernatural religion have no better rule and measure than
this. Believers in Christianity as a supernatural religion cannot
reject the miraculous, and accepting it in the Biblical history,
they cannot consistently reject it in ecclesiastical history.

In conclusion, I reaffirm the statement that there is no real
Warfare between Science and the Catholic Religion. And I am
convinced that the present appearance of a conflict is but a
temporary phase, destined to be succeeded by an evident har-
mony and concurrence between the two, in all-embracing rational
Truth.

AUGUSTINE F. HEWIT.

* Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, ch. xxxvii., near the close.

(CONCLUDED.)

204 "DAT FREED M u rf s BUREAU" [Nov.,

"DAT FREEDMUN'S BUREAU."

AUNT MANDY sat before her door and strung red peppers
from the glowing basketful by her side, and the rustling of the
late corn as the wind played through it, and the hum of dron-
ing insects over the gay flowers in the garden, made a sort of
musical monotone of accompaniment to the conversation which
the old woman and the little girl carried on in soft voices. A
tall mulatto, dressed in a seedy suit of what was meant to be
clerical black, passed by on the footpath which led to other
cabins on the estate, and Aunt Mandy returned with grim dig-
nity his unctuous greeting of " I trus' de Lawd keeps you well,
Sister Bradford."

" You go 'long, you no 'count yaller Satan you," said the old
woman as the man got out of ear-shot ; " wot bizness you got a-
sisterin' me ? Ef you wuz er Baptis' preacher stid o' er Metho-
dis', I'd quit de membership o' Mount Zion chu'ch, eben do
'tain't no hope fur folks outside de Baptis' 'lijun fur ter rightly
see Gord."

The child regarded the retreating figure wonderingly. " Is
he such a very mean man, Aunt Mandy ?" she asked curiously.

" M'latters is allers sateful ; dey sort o' lak yaller cur dorgs
dey runs up an' bite yo' heel we'n you ain't s'pectin' nothin, an'
Dan'l he de satefulles' m'latter uvver de Lawd let live. He kin
make yer b'lieve butter wouldn' melt in 'is mouf. Ef I ain't
seed dat ve'y Dan'l fool marster 'twell I nachully thought tibbe
sho he mus' 'a' conjured 'im. He wuz foremun on de Oaklawn
plantashun, an' marster he put 'is whole 'pendence in 'im ; he
trus' 'im er sight more'n he done de w'ite overseers. Well, suh,
freedum come ! Ooh ! honey, you dunno nothin' 'bout dem days ;
you better be glad you doan. But I 'members em, do ; an' Gord
knows, 'pear ter me de yeth mus' 'a' been kivered in darkness
a'ter de news come o' Lee's s'render. Turn w'ich away you
would ; look dis away, look dat, ev'ywhar, ev'ywhar, ladies in
mou'nin', w'ite-faced an' holler-eyed, a-wailin' an' a-weepin' fur
dem whar'd come no mo' ; an' one-legged mens, an' one-armed
mens, an' raggid an' starvin' mens a-stragglin' th'ew, tryin' git
ter dey homes. Yankees done stole all de ca'ige horses ; gran-
dees a-ridin' de road wid muels hitched ter dey ca'iges, an' some
o' 'em in steer-cyarts. An' de niggahs, dey done gone clean

1891.] "DAT FREEDMUN'S BUREAU" 205

ravin' 'stracted ; 'pear lak dey couldn' b'lieve dey wuz free 'twell
dey lef de plantashun whar dey wuz born an' raised. Ev'ything
on Gord A'mighty's yeth turn topsy-turvy.

" Iserl, my husban', w'ich he b'longed ter Gunnel Jones, he
cotch de fevah, an' tole me, Less quit, 'ca'se de gov'ment wuz
gwine gi' ev'y one o' us forty acres o' Ian' an' er muel. But I
tooken led 'im ter de do'. ' Iserl,' I sez, ' does you see all dem
corn-fiel's an' cotton-patches a-stretchin* ter meet de sky ? Who
does dey b'long ter ?' "

"'Yo' ole marster,'" he say.

" * Does you see all em ole fiel's 'cross yander, an' all dem
pine woods; who does dey b'long ter?" 1

" ' Yo' ole marster,' " he say ag'in.

" ' Well, den,' I sez, " wot we gwine 'way 'sperimentin' fur
Ian' fur. Marster'll gi' us dess ez much ez we kin tend. I
hearn 'im say he'd ha' ter let it grow up now de niggahs wuz
leavin' so brash. Leastways, much ez you kin tend, 'ca'se I ain't
no corn-fiel' niggah, an' I ain't gwine start it no'er.' So we all
dess stayed right dar 'twell mist'ess died, an' tooken willed me
dis yere piece o' Ian' an' dis house offen her maiden prop'ty.
An' den yere come word we all got git ma'ied ergin, an' I an'
Iserl we had ano'er 'sputement 'bout de name we wuz gwine
take. Iserl, he wanted some mighty fine long name outen de
Scripter or else de dicshunary, but I sez, ' My name are Mandy
Bradford, an' I gwine keep it, an' you got be Iserl Bradford
fum now on, else I ain't gwine marry you over ag'in.' He
knowed I meant dem ve'y words, so he stedied aw'ile an* den
he say, ' Well, women folks allers wuz fools, an' 'twuz better ter
pleasure er fool dan be plagued by one.' An' we wuz ma'ied
under de Bradford entitles, an' hits Mandy Bradford de Lawd's
gwine call w'en he wants me ter stan' 'fore 'im fur ter be
jedged.

" An' pres'ny some de niggahs 'menced a-thinkin' dey wuz dess
good ez de w'ite folks, an' Dan'l, he got 'bove hisse'f. Marster
he sot all his trus' in Dan'l, an' he done hired 'im fur I dunno
how much wedges er mont' ter stay 'long o' 'im. One mawnin'
it hed been a-rainin' two three days so dey couldn' plough 'twell
now ; an' de grass wuz fyar takin' ev'ything, dess a-runnin' way
wid de cotton ; an' de corn boun' be sided up, an' de crap got
be worked in er swivet if dey want save it. Well, suh, marster
come 'pon Dan'l a-hitchin' uv his muel ter er cyart stid o' er
plough, an' I hearn one de colored mens whar wuz workin'
close by say marster holler :

206 "DAT FREEDMUN 's BUREAU." [Nov.,

" * Wots de matter, Dan'l ? How come you ain't a-plowin' in
dat low-groun' corn ? Dat lan'll git too stiff ef you doan mind.
Onhitch dat muel, an' go 'long in de low groun's.' But Dan'l
he kep' right straight on a-hitchin' ole Reubin ter de cyart.

" * I ain't a-gwine plough ter day/ he say ; ' I gwine down
Jackson ter hear de speechin'."

" Marster he got often 'is horse den, dey tole me, an' walked
close ter Dan'l. ' You goin' ter plough in de low-groun's,' he
say, mighty still.

" ' Naw, I ain't,' Dan'l say; 'I'm free ez you is, an' I ain't
gwine take no mo' orderin' fum you ; I gwine do wot I please
you hear ?'

" I didn' nuvver tell yer wot er temper marster had. Now,
mist'ess, she wuz all in a blaze 'bout nothin', same as straw a-
flarin' up ; but marster he didn' git mad quick, but folkses ! warn't
he mad w'en he wuz ! He dess picked up er leather bridle whar
wuz a-layin' nigh, an' he lit inter Dan'l. Dey tole me Dan'l
hit at 'im two three times, but den he wuz skeerd o' marster
wid dat look on 'is face, an' dey do say w'en marster th'owed
dat bridle 'way 'twuz wored out ter er frazzle an' den he tooken
ordered Dan'l often de plantashun, an' put to'er mens ter work
in de low-groun' corn. W'en he corned back ter de house, I
an' mist'ess wuz out on de back pyazza fixin' some curcumbers
ter put in pickles, an' he sort o' staggered lak he wuz gwine
fall. He sot down heavy in de cheer I fetch 'im, an' he say :
' Susan, it's time fur me ter gi' up. Ef John an' Nat had
been spared maybe dey could 'a' managed, but I cayn't cayn't
teach er ole dorg new tricks. It's time fur me ter die.'

"(See we hadn' nuvver hearn nare word fum Marse John sence
he wuz los' on de fiel', an marster he done gi' 'im up fur dead
lak Marse Nat. But, bless Gord, he warn't. He come home
dat ve'y nex' week lookin' lak er walkin' skelekin. He tooken
sick a'ter he got outen pris'n an' didn' have 'is senses ter write
ter us. Seem lak w'en he got home an' Miss El'nor, his wife
you know, tried make Baby John, whar nuvver hadn' seed 'im, go
ter 'im, an' de baby wouldn', ca'se he wuz skeerd o' sich er out-
landish, raggidy man, seem lak Marse John an' Miss El'nor would
grieve deyse'ves ter death. How wuz de baby gwine know dis
yere wuz his pa whar his mo'er made 'im kiss de picter o' ev'y day
sence he wuz borned ?) So marster he tole mist'ess all 'bout
Dan'l, an' bofe o' 'em cried (aw chile, 'twuz hard on ole folks !) ;
an' it hadn' been two hours 'fore somebody knocked at de front
do' ; an' w'en I went, dar stood dat Freedmun's Bureau. I lak

1891.] "DAT FREEDMUN' s BUREAU." 207

ter a-hollered, fur I wush I may die ef dat man warn't dat ve'y
Major Gilbert whar wuz long o' de Yankee reg'mint dat stayed
in we all's grove dat day o' de skirmish down at de mill, w'en
Giner'l Ransom bed sich er fight ter keep de Yankees fum git-
tin' ter Weldon ; de ve'y same man, chile, whar wuz so p'lite ter
we all's 'fenceless ladies, an' whar tried shake han's wid Mittie
ter tell 'er good-by. I 'membered dess ez well how she flush
up an' t'ank 'im fur 'is kindness, an' wouldn' see 'im holdin'
out 'is han'. Mittie couldn' let er Yankee off'cer tech dat lily
w'ite han' o' hern ; she'd a felt lak some o' her bro'er's blood
wuz stainin' uv it foruvvermo'. But dar he stood, an' say he
wanted see marster on bizness. He say he wouldn' come in ;
he'd stay on de front pyazza. He knowed dey didn' want
'im in."

" But what made you call him a Bureau ?" asked the child,
mystified.

Aunt Mandy regarded her with such a look of approbation
that the little girl's opinion of herself rose into complacency,
which was further increased when the old woman said with a
chuckle :

" Folkses ! dis yere chile done lissen ter ole Mandy mirate
'twell she dess 'cizely lak 'er. I stedied over dat ve'y same
thing myse'f, I stedied an' stedied 'twell las' I ax Mittie how
come dey call er man er bureau ; an' she laff an' tell me er
whole sight, but it 'mounts ter dis, no matter wot dey call de
man, his bizness wuz ter come down yere fum de gov'ment ter
see jestice done ter free niggahs. An' dat Dan'l, he done
marched straight off a'ter marster wore de bridle out on 'im,
an' 'plained o' marster ter de Freedmun's Bureau, an' sont 'im
up yere ter gi' 'im jestice. I spishun Major Gilbert foun' out
t'wuz two sides ter dat beatin', a'ter marster tole 'im all de
way it happen, ca'se he sho pleased marster ; an' pres'ny marster
come an' say, 'Susan, it's so nigh dinner-time I've axed Major
Gilbert ter dine wid us. He 'pears ter be mighty gent'manly.'
See, marster warn't used ter 'lowin' folks ter ride 'way fum 'is
'ouse dess ez er meal wuz gwine on de table 'dout axin' uv 'em
ter eat ; an' den he tuk er mighty gre't lakkin' ter Major Gil-
bert fum dat time way yander w'en he wuz so p'lite ter de
ladies, do marster warn't yere den, an* wouldn' 'a' knowed 'twuz
same man ef I hadn' tole 'im. Lawd ! mist'ess look lak she
wuz gwine fly ; she dess flashed dem eyes o' hern she wuz mad
nuff ter bite er ten-penny nail in two. Marster allers wuz vexin'
uv 'er, axin' all sort o' folks ter dinner. But den ef he done

2o8 "DAT FREEDMUN'S BUREAU:' [Nov.,

passed de word she couldn' he'p 'erse'f ; so she say, ' Well, ef he
wuz willin' ter set down wid Yankees whar mixes wid niggahs,
he co.uld, but she wouldnV She say she'd choke 'erse'f ef she
tried swallow er mou'ful wid dat man settin' dar. ' I shill not
go ter de table,' she say. Marster he knowed he done wrong
ter ax 'im, he knowed mist'ess wuz gwine r'ar an' charge, so he
look dess ez meek an' say, 'Won't Mittie come down?'

'" Mittie would 'a' done anything upon yeth marster wanted
'er ter do. Mittie an' him dess put dey whole love on one
'no'er. He 'spected 'er ter say, yes she'd come, same ez she
did say ; an' peoples ! her face tooken turned red ez fiah w'en
marster tole 'er who 'twuz ; an' she went off mighty willin' w'en
mist'ess tole 'er go up-stairs an' put on dat steel-blue silk o'
hern, so de Yankee wouldn' think we all wuz so dead po' do
nobody nuvver wouldn' think 'bout Mittie bein' po' ; somehow
de way she twisted dat shinin' yaller hair o' hern roun' an'
roun' 'er head ; an' de way she walked, so smoove lak she wuz
dess slidin' over de groun', made her look gran', ef she didn'
have on nothin' but homespun. An' mist'ess she say : ' Mandy,
you go an' put out de bes' china, an' pour de wine in de cut-
glass decanters, an' set de table lak we used have it set befo'
de wah broke us all up. Doan let dat miser'ble Yankee be
rejoicin' over we all's pov'ty."

" Unk Scip, de butler, done gone, you see ; ev'ybody done
gone but I an' de cook ; but den I knowed how er rustycrat
table ought ter look, yes, suh ! an' I flew roun' an' sot out de
fine silver, an' runned in de flower gyarden an' filled er vase o'
roses ; an' w'en marster 'vited dat Freedmun's Bureau down ter
dinner dat table wuz er picter, an' Mittie she dess set it off,
a-standin' in mist'ess' place, lookin' so purty, an' me a-stationed
up by de side-board a-holdin' my tray 'zackly right. 'Twarn't but
dem three ter set down ter dinner Miss El'nor, she wuz lak
mist'ess, she say 'twould choke 'er ; an' Whit an' Nick, dey wuz at
all-day school in town an' even dem seem lak dey felt onnaterel ;
but dey tried keep up er mighty chattin', an' tried make out
dey felt pleasant an' easy ; an' pres'ny I put de 'sert on, but
dey hadn' 'menced eatin' uv it, w'en marster he turn pale an'
fall ! Major Gilbert he wuz up an' by 'im in er minnit. I
nuvver see er man move so quick. ' He's fainted,' he say ter
Mittie, an' dem two worked wid 'im, an' I run fur mist'ess.
See, de 'citement o' dat mawnin' done been too much fur mar-
ster ; he done gi' up, lak he tole mist'ess. Dat's how come I
'spises Dan'l wussen I do pison. He kilt 'is marster sho's ef

1891.] "DAT FREEDMUN'S BUREAU:' 209

he'd 'a' stuck er knife in 'im. Sho thing, I dunno wot we'd 'a'
done ef Major Gilbert hadn' been dar ; but he th'owed off 'is
coat, an' Marse John hisse'f couldn' worked wid his pa no mo'
faithful ; an' w'en he 'menced comin' to, dat man lifted 'im up,
an' tole me tek 'is foots, an' we toted 'im up-stairs ter 'is bed.
An' Major Gilbert stayed dar, not even 'pearin' ter know he
wuz er stranger, 'twell de boy whar he'd made jump on er
horse an' ride fur er doctor, fotch de doctor back. But de ve'y
minnit he foun' out dey didn' speshul need 'im, he tuk 'is hat
ter leave. An' wot you reckin' Mittie done ? I seed 'er wid
my two eyes. She follered 'im out, she did, an' w'en he wuz
'bout ter step offen de pyazza, she called 'im mighty low an'
soft. (Mittie had one dem soun's ter 'er voice whar put you in
mind o' de fust birds whar comes uv er spring o' de year.) She
say, * Major Gilbert ! ' he turn quick ez er flash. " I've come
ter beg you to shake han's wid me," Mittie say, a-holdin' out
'er han', w'ich it trimbled same ez er aspin-leaf, and de tears
wuz fitten ter run over in dem lovin' eyes o' hern. Lawd ! my
heart sunk lak 'twuz er well-buckit wid er plough-p'int tied ter it
w'en I seed de face dat man turned ter Mittie den an' de tears
a-stan'in' in his eyes too. Hit's er mighty bad sign w'en er man
an' er gyal gits ter cryin' terge'er. Lawd ! ain't it."

" What is it a sign of ? " the child asked. She was gradually
becoming versed in signs and omens.

" Nuvver you mind," replied the old woman; "hit's er pow'ful
bad sign do ; an' seem lak er prop'sying sperrit come ter me
right den ; seem lak I dess knowed 'twarn't all love fur we riig-
gahs whar sont dat man down yere ter be er Freedmun's
Bureau 'mongst we all. Dar him an' Mittie stood, a-lookin' in
one 'no'er's eyes mighty mou'nful, and pres'ny Mittie say: 'Is
he goin' ter die ? '

" Sho thing, Major Gilbert looked sorry fur 'er den. ' I hope
not,' he say, " oh ! I hope not ; but cayn't I come back an' he'p
you ? ' he say so pitiful. ' I'm er man, an' I kin do more'n you
ladies ; le'mme come,' he say, 'seechin-lak. She nuvver made
'im no 'ply ; she wuz chokin', she couldn' talk ; but he tooken
turn roun' an' went an' ax mist'ess please let 'im stay wid mar-
ster 'twell some o' de gent'mens fum de neighborhood could
come, an' I reckin she tole 'im thank-er-suh, 'ca'se he stayed an'
nussed marster th'ew dat long night. I done tole you Marse
John couldn' 'a' nussed 'im no mo' faithfuller. But dis yere
wuz er sickness whar no nussin' couldn' cyor. De han' o' Death
wuz a-fastenin' on marster ; his time wuz come. An', honey,
VOL. LIV. 14

210 "DAT FREEDMUN 's BUREAU'' [Nov.,

men-folks warn't plentiful dem days ; dat wah done kilt 'em out.
An' dat Major Gilbert seem lak marster rested better w'en he
wuz roun'. See, he could lif 'im so good, he wuz sich er strong
man ; so he corned ev'y now an' den ter set up. Mist'ess couldn'
b'ar it, but w'en Marse John come dat nex' week, lak I tole
yer, all raggidy an' sick, an' had ter go ter bed, 'twix' him sick
in one rum, an' marster a-layin' he'pless an' outen 'is head in
to'er rum, an' de mos' o' we all's kinfolks an' frien's dead, or
else crippled, she wuz dess boun' try not ter see de blue
un'form, an' let de Freedmun's Bureau stay some nights ter set
up w'en ev'ybody else wuz broke down.

"Well, las' one mawnin' soon, dess w'en de day is a-blinkin'
an' a-peepin' in de east, an' de birds wakes up an' 'mences dey
singin', an' de wind blows cool an' freshening Mittie an' me an'
Major Gilbert wuz in de rum wid marster, an' he opened 'is
eyes wid de look o' sense in 'em, an' ax fur mist'ess. Major
Gilbert he went an' called 'er ; den he didn' come back ; he dess
stay out on de po'ch fur fresh air. An' marster he look at 'im
th'ew de winder-blind, ez he pace up an' down lak er soljer
keepin' gyard. He watch 'im, marster did, de blue un'form
a-passin' back an' fo'th ; an' pres'ny wot you reckin marster say ?
He turn ter Mittie an' say, * Little daughter, de color o' de
un'form doan change de man, do it ? ' An' den he say ter
mist'ess : ' Susan, he's been mighty good ter me ; doan nuvver
furgit dat.'

" Lawd ! chile, folks sees er heap w'en to'er folks 'magines
deyse outen dey heads. Marster he been a-layin' dar too weak
ter speak, but he done seed how gintle an' tinder dat Freed-
mun's Bureau wuz he done seed er sight. An' I hearn 'em say
w'en peoples is 'bout ter quit dis yere body o' dus' an' ashes,
an' dey'se a-seein' wid de sperrit de glimmerin' o' de glory ter
come, hit mighty of'en happens dat dey looks at things dif-
f'rent fum wot dey does in dey life-time ; an' I hearn 'em say
too dat sometime de angels dey comes ter 'em an' opens 'fore
'em wot is gwine come ter pass ter dem dey leaves behind. I
allers reckined mebbe dat's wot happened ter marster ; anyhow
I knows he said dem words I tole yer ter Mittie an' mist'ess.
Well, he kep' *is senses all dat day dess ez peacerble, an' dey
bruk it ter 'im dat Marse John wuz home, an' he crep' in ter
see 'is pa, do he barely could creep, he so sick hisse'f. But
'long in de middle o' de night de change come ; de chill o'
death 'menced a-creepin' over 'im, an' de nex' mawnin' w'en de
sun wuz streakin' de pine-trees, an* a-glancin' th'ew de winder-

1 891 .] " DA T FREEDMUN'S BUREA u" 211

blinds in er weakly way, my ole marster he fetch one long
groan, an' den his sperrit wuz gone ter Jesus Freedum an'
Dan'l done kilt 'im."

There was silence for a time, the old woman's face twitch-
ing with emotion, and the little girl watching her with the awed
look of uncomprehension which children wear when the mystery
of death is told of in their presence. The child's tender in-
stincts made her say, " Oh ! I'm so sorry for Mittie."

" You'd 'a' been still sorrier ef you'd 'a' been dar, honey,"
Aunt Mandy replied. " I nuvver seed er ooman grieve so ; 'pear
lak her ve'y heart'd break, fur Mittie she loved her pa better'n
she loved anybody on yeth, an' a'ter Marse Nat died, I b'lieve
he done de same by her. Seem lak dey didn' need ter talk ter
one 'no'er ; seem lak one knowed wot t'o'er one wanted 'dout
sayin' uv er word. An' a'ter marster wuz gone we all's troubles
'menced sho nuff. Yo' pa kin tell yer it teks twice ez much ter
pay er dead man's debts ez it do er live one's ; an den marster
he done gone s'curity fur I dunno how many folks, an' ev'y
now an' den yere ano'er s'curity debt ter pay outen de estate.
Maratock mortgaged, de Swamp plantashun sold, money gittin'
sca'cer an' sca'cer, crap no 'count, an' still dem s'curity debts
got be paid. Ooh ! ef I ain't seed mist'ess walk de flo' 'twell I
nachully 'spected 'er ter fall dead in 'er tracks. An' er whole
sight o' low-lifeded no-'count trash fum 'way-away, de ve'y
scum o' de yeth, a-trapesin' down yere, puttin' de niggahs up ter
meanness, an' a-settin' 'em ag'in dey ole marsters. Dan'l he
a-heppin' uv 'em, a-speechin' an' tellin' de niggahs dey ez good
ez anybody else. Dan'l, he led de ring, he did. One dem low-
lifeded Satans he tooken 'ported dat Major Gilbert warn't doin'
jestice ter de niggahs which he tried be jest I b'lieves, ef uvver
er man did an' I reckin' de gov'ment sont word fur Major Gil-
bert ter come home, 'ca'se one day when de mail come, Mittie
an' Miss El'nor wuz out on de front po'ch, an' I wuz sweepin'
'way de dead leaves whar'd 'menced a-fallin' oak-trees is sich
er pest 'bout litterin' up things wid leaves in de fall o' de year
an' Mittie got er letter whar made 'er look mighty strange.
She read it she did, den she walked ter t'o'er end o' de po'ch
an' gaze' an' gaze' Miss El'nor watchin' uv 'er den she turn
an' hand it ter Miss El'nor. Miss El'nor she read it an' looked
at Mittie same time ; pres'ny she heaved er sigh an' handed de
letter back ter Mittie.

"'Po' fellow!' she say pitiful; 'he loves you dearly, Mittie.'

" Mittie didn' noways blush lak gyals gener'ly does at sich er
word ; she dess look way off ag'in.

212 "DAT FREEDMUN'S BUREAU" [Nov.,

" ' He didn' say so yere, El'nor ? ' she say in dat low voice
o' hern, an' a-lookin' down at dat letter. Miss El'nor she didn'
lak dat gaze in Mittie's eyes an' de soun' o' dem words ; so she
say:

" ' But den he's goin' away ; an' he'll git over it ; men
allers do. I'm glad he's goin' ; ' an' den a'ter er minnit she say,
' Ain't you glad, Mittie ? '

" Mittie, she look up quick, den fall 'er eyes ag'in. ' W'y,
uv course I am,' she 'plied. Umph ! uvver you hear gyals say
' uv course I am ' sich er way ez dat you dess put it down dey'se
meanin' ' uv course I ain't.' I wonder how come gyals allers will
lie 'bout men-folks!

" I dess swep' an' swep'; I wored dem bresh brooms clean out
a-sweepin' dat day, I so mad. Sho thing seem lak Mittie an'
Miss Kather'ne wuz de contrairies' gyals ! Lawd ! I wushed
right den I could 'a' fou't. Ef anybody had 'a' crooked dey fin-
ger at me dat day I'd jumped on 'em an' beat 'em mos' ter death.
But den I kep' my mind ter myse'f, an' Miss El'nor she kep'
hern wot de use o' worryin' mist'ess ? She mos' troubled out-
en her senses now ; an', bless Gord, Major Gilbert he lef we all's
part de worl'. He corned ter tell good-by ter de ladies at Oak-
lawn, an' dey wuz mighty kind ter 'im. Marse John he 'sisted
on ridin' part de way back wid 'im, and mist'ess seem lak she
done furgot 'bout 'is bein' uv er Yankee ; she mos' bruk clean
down w'en she tole 'im good-by an' Gord bless 'im. But him
ah' Mittie didn' say much ter one 'no'er; dey didn' git no
chance I doan reckin.

" Nex' day I lissen, I lissen, fur dat train (de railroad warn't
more'n three mile fum Oaklawn), an' pres'ny I hear it blow !
Peoples, I wuz fitten ter shout !

" Go long," I say, " go long so quick,
An' nuvver come back no mo'."*

" I sung it so, lak er hyme, an' I prayed it lak er pr'ar."
" Why it seems to me you would have liked Major Gilbert,"
said the child. " I think he was splendid."

" I didn' tell yer I didn' lak 'im," replied Aunt Mandy in
her most dignified tones. " I done tole yer we wuz all dess ez
p'lite ter 'im ez we knowed how ter be. But den he warn't we
all's sort o' folks. He one dese yere furriners fum way up dar
in Yankee-Ian' rustycrat. Fur all we knowed his mammy mout
'a' washed an' i'oned his daddy's onlyst linen buzzum shirt uv er

*Aunt Mandy chanted these words in telling the story. The negroes often break into* a
measured chant when they wish to be particularly impressive, and the effect is exceedingly
dramatic.

1 891 .] u DA T FREEDMUN'S BUREA r." 2 1 3

Sat'd'ys fur 'im ter wear ter meetin' Sund'ys, 'ca'se dey nuvver
didn' own nare single niggah. But he tooken went 'way, an'
Marse Dick Stith, whar'd loved Mittie all 'is life sense dey wuz
babies terge'er, an' young Doctor Henry Gray, an' all de res' o'
Mittie's beaux, dey kep' a-comin', but she tole 'em a'll naw she
tole 'em she gwine stay 'long o' her mo'er an' try teach school.
See, we wuz mighty po' by den, we couldn' sca'cely make out
ter buy sugar an' coffee ; an' Mittie she got er school in Jack-
son. 'Twuz too far fur 'er ter walk, so she'd ride de ole gray
an' tether 'im in de school-yard. Land ! mist'ess, she clean broke
down an' went ter bed de fust day Mittie tuk 'er baskit o' col'
dinner on 'er arm an' mounted de ole gray an' rode off ter
'mence de teachin'. * Shet de blinds, Mandy,' she say ter me ;
( shet out de light. I cayn't b'ar sunshine now.' Po' mist'ess! she
been so proud all 'er life she sort o' look down on folks whar
work fur dey livin', and now it done come home ter 'er, she say ;
she tole me she reckin Gord wuz jest, but she knowed he warn't
mussiful ; see, dat de way trouble do some folks hit hardens 'em.
But Mittie, she didn' tek it dat away ; she'd come home an' laff
'bout de time she had ; she'd tell funny tales 'bout dis boy an'
dat one ; she'd mos' got back de IOOK: she hed fore marster
died, but not purcizely. Wen folks warn't a-lookin' 'twuz dat
way-away gaze in dem eyes o' hern same ez somebody whar's a
hongerin' fur sompen. I used wush dat look'd go fum 'er, but hit
come back ev'y once in aw'ile fur all dem two year she teached
in Jackson. But I seed 'er at las' w'en it lef 'er ; an' den I
hope I may die ef I didn' wush it'd come back ag'in ; dat's de
way wid folks, mo' speshully women-folks."

The little girl thought she detected an inclination to abstract
moralizing in Aunt Mandy's tone and manner, so she hastened
to say :

"Tell about how it left her."

" 'Twuz one day in de fall o' de year; I 'members -'twuz fall
c'ase a'ter I got th'ew my dinner-dishes, an' washed out my cup-
towels, I tuk Baby John, which he wuz er good-size chile den,
an' I an' him made wreaths fur 'im outen der yaller hick'ry
leaves w'ile we sot down at de big gate waitin' fur 'is aunty ter
come home fum school. Baby John loved ter meet 'er uv days
so she'd ride 'im on de ole gray up ter de house. Pres'ny he
run out in de big road an' come back an' say: * Mammy
Mandy, man wid aunty ' ; an' I went an' looked, an' yere dey
come a-ridin' 'long slow th'ew de stretch o' trees whar grows
bofe side de road 'twixt Oaklawn an' de creek yere dey come,

214 " DAT FREEDMUN'S BUREAU" [Nov.,

side an' side, reins loose on de horses' necks, horses a-steppin'
'long des ez dey please, nobody not noticin' uv 'em. De blue
un'form gone now ; nothin' but er plain ev'y-day suit o' clo'es on ;
but, ez marster say, de man not changed. Major Gilbert done
come back come back ter live, he tole mist'ess ; he say 'twarn't
posserble fur 'im ter live nowhars else. An' Mittie, she not a-
hongry no mo' ; she walkin' 'bout wid dat sort o' hushed, peace-
ful look on 'er face whar puts you in mind o' de way de sun
shines uv er Sund'ys w'en de worl' is a keepin' Gord's restin'-day.
Mittie, she restin', she saterfied ; an' her an' Major Gilbert a-ridin'
home ev'y day, 'mos', terge'er. Mist'ess wuz de ve'y las' one
ter spishun de trufe, but w'en she did Lawd ! I made sho
'twould 'a' kilt 'er. She didn' r'ar an' pitch lak she done w'en
Miss Kather'ne ma'ied, but she 'fused ter be comforted ; she
wouldn' 'low nobody ter mention it. She beg Mittie not ter let
'er see no loverin' ; so Mittie, she tole Major Gilbert not ter come
ter de house, an' she tole 'er mo'er she warn't gwine have no-
body 'dout she 'gree ter it ; but she warn't gwine say she didn'
love 'im. An' dat's de way hit went. Major Gilbert, he a-workin'
an' a-makin' money (he got de gre'tes' turn fur makin' money
any man uvver I see ; he one de riches' mens in Henderson dis
ve'y day ; dey moved up ter Henderson some fifteen year ago),
an' Mittie she a-teachin' de school, an' folks dey a-gittin used ter
seein' 'em ride home terge'er. But he didn' come in ; him an'
Mittie dey 'greed not ter worry mist'ess wid de sight o' 'em.
But las' Marse John he see 'twarn't no mo' chance o' turnin'
Mittie fum lovin' uv dat Yankee dan 'twuz ter change de run-
nin' o' Mill Creek an' mek it go uphill ; so he 'menced a-workin'
wid mist'ess, a-tellin' uv 'er de mischuf wuz done now ; dat Mit-
tie nuvver wouldn' love nobody else, an' a-puttin' 'er in mind o'
how marster lakked de man, an' a-suadin' uv 'er, an' argifyin* wid
'er, an sort o' quar'lin' wid 'er, 'twell las' one day, behole yer!
she tole Mittie she didn' have no mo' ter say go long an' have
de Yankee, ef she couldn' be happy no other way ; an' she tole
Major Gilbert she wouldn' cross 'im no mo'. An' so dey got
ma'ied an' tuk er weddin' trip; de style o' dat come in den, stid
o' havin' er weddin' supper, c'ase folks too po' ter spen' er
whole sight on eatin's, dem days. An' dey corned back an' set-
tled in Jackson 'twell dey moved ter Henderson. But do, I allers
shill b'lieve mebbe mist'ess hed de rights o' it w'en she used git
mad an' say ' Ole Satan owed 'er er grudge an' tooken paid it

off in son-in-laws.'

F. C. FARINHOLT.

Asheville, X. C.

1891.] LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. 215

LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS.

FROM a political stand-point the most important and the
most instructive of the recent Census returns are unquestiona-
bly those which demonstrate the continued appalling decadence
in Irish population and in Irish industries. No Englishman can
scan the tabulated statistics of the commissioners without feeling
a blush of shame mantling to his cheeks, and no Irishman can
read them without a feeling of just and angry resentment. For
what are the facts which are thus prominently brought before
us? Between the years 1840 and 1850 (when free trade was
pouring its blessings upon England, and famine was decimating
and spreading havoc in Ireland) the population of the latter
country decreased nearly thirty per cent. ; whilst in the succeed-
ing ten years the country, instead of seeming to regain its old
position, lost another twelve per cent, of its people. Since that
period the decrease has been uninterruptedly alarming, until to-
day we find the people two millions less in number than even
after the "Black Famine" of 1847! The eight millions of 1841
are reduced to four, and the decline since 1881 has actually
been proportionately the greatest since " the forties." This is
a glaring fact which no amount of confusion in savings-banks de-
posits can explain away. Figures do not often speak eloquently ;
but in the census returns we have an exception to that rule, and
a conclusive refutation of those who urge that the English race
have a Heaven-ordained mission to govern their Irish brethren.
The gravity of the position there can be no gainsaying, and the
question should certainly be lifted far beyond the field of party
recrimination. It is a matter of life and death, rather than of
politics ; for if the returns prove anything, they prove from a
dozen points of view that with the settlement of the present
Irish controversy are intimately bound up the welfare and happi-
ness nay, the very existence of great numbers of our fellow-
beings.

The situation has not been brought about by congestion.
Congested districts there are, especially in the west and north-
west of the country ; but the closest students of the Irish agri-
cultural problem concede that, as a whole, the land could easily
support at least twice the present population. In fact, the St.
James's Gazette, the orthodoxy of which is like Caesar's wife, re-

2i6 LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. [Nov.,

cently wrote : "All English parties and all Irish parties deserve
some share of blame for the melancholy fact that, while other
portions of the empire are growing and increasing, the popula-
tion of Ireland is rapidly dying away. There are half a million
less Irishmen in Ireland to-day than there were ten years
ago. The west coast is congested, no doubt ; but the broad
fields of Leinster and Munster might support with no great
difficulty three or four times the two millions of peasants they
now barely maintain." It should be added that the most con-
gested province is that of Connaught ; yet its decrease has been
no more than that of Munster ; and in the decade preceding
1 88 1 Connaught's percentage was less than that of either Lein-
ster, Ulster, or Munster.

But it is not only the population that has declined. The
inhabited houses of the country have (probably, in a large de-
gree, owing to the gigantic eviction campaigns of the past few
years) been reduced by no less than 41,449; whilst the dwel-
lings vacated and unoccupied have increased by 7,460. The
painful importance of these .figures will speedily manifest itself
to those who have observed the very scattered nature of the
Irish population, and the tenacity with which they cling to their
humble homesteads ; but not less instructive is the fact that
although in the forty years following 1847 English shipping in-
creased by 120, Welsh by 228, and Scotch by 247 per cent.,
that of Ireland alone decreased. The Irish fishing industry,
again, could not only be maintained, but is capable of enormous
development ; yet in sixty years Ireland's fishing-boats and
crews have decreased no less than sixty per cent.

It would, however, be incorrect to assume that in all matters
Ireland has had a diminution. The agricultural rents, for ex-
ample, have in twenty years been increased los. 6d. per head,
those of England having in the same period of time been re-
duced by 13^. per head. The Irish poor-rate has advanced from
2s. gd. to 5-y., imperial taxes from 2 6s. 8d. to 2 gs., and gen-
eral local taxes from us. to ijs. 6d. In pauperism, too, there
has been a great advance. There are proportionately ten times
as many paupers in Connaught as in England, and the "sub-
merged tenth " of whom philanthropists speak in England be-
comes the " submerged sixth " in Ireland. And in still another
respect Ireland has an eminence which is not possessed by any
other country in the world, for no less than one-fourth of her
population have died by famine since 1846! The picture is
far, indeed, from being a pleasant one, and the country would

1891.] LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. 217

prefer to have been relieved from an increase in these
matters.

Let us now take a glance at the religious 'question in Ire-
land, for, though the English and Scottish representatives in
Parliament were hostile to a religious census of those coun-
tries being taken, the objection was not shared by the Irish
members, who quickly realized the political advantage that it
would afford them of investigating the repeated assertion that
the number of Irish Protestants is between 2,000,000 and
3,000,000. They therefore pressed for such a test, and Mr.
Healy even suggested a political census with the view of giving
the Irish people an opportunity of proclaiming their confidence
in the present administration, but the idea did not commend
itself to the favorable consideration of the government. Ireland,
anyhow, got its religious " column " ; and the result is the laying
of one of the favorite ," bogeys " of Conservative and dissentient-
Liberal speakers. Of the 4,706,162 who constitute the Irish race
(in Ireland), 3,549,745 (or considerably more than three-fourths)
are returned as Catholics. The 3,000,000 "loyalists," whom we
are accustomed to hear described as ready to " shoulder their
rifles " and " die in the last ditch," rather than submit to Home
Rule, dwindle down to the fairly respectable but comparatively
insignificant numbers of 600,830 Episcopalians and 440,687 Pres-
byterians. Of these, from 50,000 to 100,000 decline to subscribe
to the doctrine that they are unfit to govern in their own coun-
try ; and from the remainder we must deduct about 600,000 for
old men, women, girls, and children. Of the remaining 300,000
whom we may reckon as able-bodied men, not more than 7,000
or 8,000 are members of the Orange institution ; and not two in
every thousand of them have the remotest idea of ever "taking
the field " in defence of any Union whatever. Least of all
will they risk their lives in defence of a legislative compact
which their fathers so bitterly opposed in the beginning of the
century. For the Covenanting settlers from Scotland, as their
descendants know full well, became rebels in Ireland ; and they
were the men who rose against the French in 1778, who won
Irish free trade in 1779, and who established Irish independence
in 1782. The Protestants of Belfast in 1783 declared for the
emancipation of their Catholic brethren, a reform which was
only wrung from the English Parliament in the fifth decade of
the present century ; and it was from the same body in the
same city that seven years later sprang the famous rebels who
are known in history as the United Irishmen, a body to which

218 LESSONS OF THE IRISH CEA^SUS. [Nov.,

the Northern Province contributed 111,000 members, and all the
rest of Ireland only 16,000. The Times in October last wrote,
in the course of a review of Lecky's Eighteenth Century : " The
chiefs of the United Irishmen were for the most part Presby-
terian or Episcopalian Protestants by profession, and many of
them were deists by conviction. Ulster, and its capital, Belfast,
were the strongholds of their power. . . . Some hoped to
achieve their end as Grattan's parliament had been achieved by
a menace of force. Others were already prepared to seek it by
rebellion and separation from Great Britain."

I have said that the Orange body is comparatively infinitesi-
mal, and in this connection it may not be uninteresting to take
a glance at the three classes into which the inhabitants of Ul-
ster may be divided. In the first place, we have the landlords,
who are generally Episcopalians and Tories, and who, though
not Orangemen themselves, encourage and foster the " institu-
tion " from interested motives. In the second place, we have
the tenant-farmers, who are largely Catholic and largely Presby-
terian (but not Orange), and who constitute a respectable and
well-conducted class albeit they possess, like most Ulstermen, a
" canny " disposition, and religious convictions of more than aver-
age strength. In the third place, we have the commercial class,
who are, as might be expected, less numerous than the agricul-
tural body, but the small majority of whom are opposed to
Home Rule. And, finally, we have the Orange mob in a
few large towns, consisting almost entirely of the most unedu-
cated section of the populace, and whose central idea of poli-
tics is an implacable hatred of the pope. Sleeping or waking,
he is the great bugbear of their existence ; and John Mitchel,
himself a Protestant, utterly failed to convince them that it
was beyond the pope's power to serve ejectments in Ulster,
even by registered letter.

It is interesting to observe that the decrease in the Irish
population has affected nearly all religious denominations in uni-
form proportion ; but the Jews and Methodists (whose numbers,
however, are limited in Ireland) have largely increased. In Don-
egal, Tyrone, Monaghan, and Cavan there is an overwhelming
Catholic majority ; and if the Protestant population in the one
county of Antrim be for the moment left out of consideration,
the Catholics of Ulster would be in a majority of about a quar-
ter of a million. The threats of " civil war " are, therefore, the
veriest nonsense. The majority has not any intention of fight-
ing ; and the struggle, if any, would lie between the Orangemen

1891.] LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. 219

and the constituted forces of the British crown. That would be
rebellion, not civil war ; but it has already been shown that the
militant Orange body could at any time be subdued (and lodged
in the nearest police barracks) by a handful of the Irish Con-
stabulary, without the aid of even one company of military or
a solitary Catling gun. Those same warlike threats were in
dulged in before Catholic emancipation was passed, but they
were never put in force. They were repeated when the disestab-
lishment of the Irish Church portended " the annihilation of the
Protestant minority " and the " utter extinction of the British
Empire." The queen was warned that if she gave her assent to
the Church Bill, " her crown would be kicked into the Boyne " ;
and Parliament was notified that if the bill were not abandoned
hundreds of thousands would come over and bombard the palace
yard. Blood-curdling threats, these ; but we all know that de-
spite them the bill was passed, and that it provoked no more
excitement then in Ireland than would be caused there to-day
by the legalizing of marriages with deceased wives' sisters or the
issue of a pleuro-pneumonia order from the Privy Council. And
so it would be with a Home-Rule bill, for the belligerent " loy-
alists " are as imaginary as Falstaff's men in buckram.

The exceptional prosperity of Ulster is another political ar-
gument which the census must do much to destroy. One has
been accustomed to accept implicitly the assertion that, whatever
be the condition of Munster, Leinster, and Connaught, industry
and thrift had at least saved the northern part of the country
from the blight which seemed to have settled upon the rest of
the land. We find, however, that in reality no one can lay that
flattering unction to his soul ; for the spirit of decay is hovering
over the towns by the Lagan and the Bann, as well as over the
plains of Meath and the mountains of Connemara. The popula-
tion of every county in the province, except Antrim, has de-
creased ; and in one of them, that of Monaghan, there has been
a diminution at the rate of over 16 per cent., being the greatest
in all Ireland. In four other Ulster counties (Cavan, Tyrone,
Fermanagh, and Armagh) the average fall has been only 3 per
cent, less than in Monaghan ; whilst, taken as a whole, the prov-
ince has sustained a decline of more than 7 per cent. Leinster,
on the other hand, has only fallen 6 1-2 per cent. At the pre-
vious census, Ulster was then also proved to have lost a larger
percentage of its people between 1871 and 1881 than either
Munster, Leinster, or Connaught ; so that it is puerile to speak
of the Northern Province having been " more prosperous " than

220 LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. [Nov.,

the others. . The accurate definition of the situation is that the
people of Ulster have been in one county " less unfortunate"
than their brethren in the south and west.

I have said that the county of Antrim, alone in Ulster has
increased in population, and I propose to deal briefly with the
cause. It is not that the people of Belfast are " industrious and
law-abiding " ; for if the Orange city has developed, so have Na-
tionalist Dublin and Nationalist Deny. County Antrim has in-
creased I 1-2 per cent., but County Dublin (the only other in
Ireland with an augmented population) has advanced by 2 per
cent. To the average reader it must indeed seem amusing that
so small an increase in two divisions, and such an enormous de-
cline in every other division, should be regarded as a proof of
prosperity in either the one region or the other ; and surely
one's eyes cannot be closed to the fact that though Nationalist
Cork, Nationalist Limerick, and Nationalist Galway have mani-
festly receded, with equal emphasis have Tory Lurgan, Tory Lis-
burn, and Tory Armagh shown signs of increasing misfortune.
Nor has Dublin City been more unfortunate than the " Northern
Athens," as we sometimes hear it called. The statistics concern-
ing the two cities are to some extent misleading, because the
population of Belfast proper was artificially raised in 1885 by the
inclusion of a large tract of suburban property in the parliamen-
tary boundary, the object being to qualify for a fourth member
under the Redistribution Act. This addition is embraced in the
census returns, but in the case of Dublin only one of its suburbs
is included. Some of the Dublin districts have advanced by
more than sixty-four per cent., and if they were enumerated in
the city lists, Belfast would be out of the running with the
metropolis.

But how, it may be asked, do you account for the increased
population in the Ulster capital ? For the answer, look to the
diminution of -inhabitants in all the surrounding towns, for the
extension of that city has brought in its train an array of ruined
villages and decaying towns. Turn to the census tables, and
find there, in the records of decreasing numbers where industries
formerly flourished, one explanation of Belfast's success. Ask.
the Orange merchants, weavers, and mechanics in Portadown,
Lurgan, Armagh, Lisburn, etc., and their answer will cause one
to henceforth receive stories of Ulster's prosperity with a grain
of salt.

This, however, is not the only explanation. It is a matter of
history that when the woollen trade of the south and west of

1891.] LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. 221

Ireland threatened to extinguish the same industry here, the sov-
ereign of the time assured a deputation of English merchants
that he would " do all that in him lay " to suppress the rival
trade in Ireland ; and the royal promise differed from that em-
bodied in the Treaty of Limerick in that it was faithfully ob-
served. The woollen trade of the South was therefore swiftly
and ruthlessly crushed, whilst the linen trade of the North, which
did not conflict with the interests of English merchants, was fos-
tered and subsidized. These are not mere assertions ; they are
historical facts which do not admit of even the faintest doubt.
And lastly, Belfast enjoys exceptional advantages in its proxim-
ity to the English and Scotch coal markets and manufacturing
ports, for it will be generally conceded that industries flourish
most where coal is cheapest.

Let us see what the London Times has to say on the ques-
tion of the great progress of Belfast. Writing on the shipping
crisis on November 25, 1890, the leading English daily says:

" It is by no means certain that men who transact their busi-
ness in Belfast, being impressed by the marked differences
between it and other Irish ports, do not exaggerate the impor-
tance of the flourishing community on the river Lagan. Men
who describe Cardiff, for example, as a small coaling port may
be suspected of lacking the sense of proportion, and there will
be no scarcity of men outside Belfast who will be of opinion
that a paralysis of the trade of Cardiff for a month would cause
more distress to the nation and more loss than the closing of
Belfast harbor for a year. I must not be understood to be say-
ing anything against Belfast, which is, indeed, the brightest spot
in Ireland, when I say that her admirers have been led astray
by statistics. The customs dues annually received at the port
are, it is true, very large ; they amount to about a million and a
half of money by the year. But these customs dues are swollen
by the great trade in whisky and tobacco. Imagination shudders
at the conception of a ton of whisky ; a ton of tobacco would
last a persistent smoker, on an allowance of a quarter of a pound
to the week, 186 years. Now, Belfast in 1889 imported 2,279
tons of tobacco and exported 1,234 tons; of whisky she im-
ported 5,325 tons and exported 20,458 tons. Upon the principle
that these commodities are luxuries and not necessaries of life,
both of them are heavily taxed, and I doubt not that the
tobacco and whisky trades have much to do with the large re-
ceipts of customs dues. For the rest, the exports of Belfast out-
side linen and ships are not considerable."

These, be it noted, are the words of a journal claiming a deep
sympathy and close community with the people of that city.

222 LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. [Nov.,

So much for the Ulster towns and villages. In agricultural
matters there has been the same contrast tyranny in the South,
protection in the North ; and the reason can best be told in the
words employed by Mr. T. W. Russell, a dissentient-Liberal
M.P., who spoke as follows at Carlisle in January of this year :

" The position of the loyalist portion of Ireland is very clear.
Why are we there ? We are there because you sent our ances-
tors. There have been three great settlements in Ireland. There
was the Ulster settlement under James, there was the Cromwel-
lian settlement, and there was the Williamite settlement. Our
ancestors went there to do your work ; and you sent them.
You cannot wipe out these great historic transactions. Some of
you would not if you could, but you cannot if you would ; they
are part and parcel of the history of this nation."

Such is Mr. Russell's euphemistic description of the successive
expulsions of the rightful owners of the soil, and the transference
of the pilfered property to " settlers " who had not the shadow
of a claim to the land. These "receivers" were allowed certain
rights and concessions, which came in time to be known as the
" Ulster Custom " ; and hence it was that the northern farmers
were in the enjoyment of much of that charter of " Tenant
Right " which it required the agitation of the Land League to
secure for the south and west of the country. It is therefore
clear that the comparatively satisfactory condition of Ulster is
not attributable to the industry, business capacity, and "loyalty"
of its inhabitants so much as to its natural advantages and the
undue preference given to its settlers and their interests by suc-
cessive English governments.

The reduction in the inhabitants of Ireland has been largely
caused by eviction and emigration. Since 1846 close upon
4,000,000 persons a number almost equal to the present popula-
tion have been evicted, without compensation, from houses
which they themselves had built, from land which they had
reclaimed, and from soil which they had oftentimes actually
created. Sometimes it was because the landlord wanted the
land cleared for grazing, for shooting, for sheep-farming ; and
sometimes it was because the poor tenants were unable to pay
a rent levied and increased on their own improvements ; but
from whatever cause, the cruel evictions have undoubtedly taken
place, and that, too, under the protection of the British army.
The tenant is compelled to leave behind him the capital and
labor expended in the land by his- family and his ancestors, and

1891.] LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. 223

allow all to be confiscated by the grasping' landlord. "I do not
think," said Sir Robert Peel in 1849, "that the records of any
country, civilized or barbarous, present materials for such a pic-
ture." Of the evicted, some remained at home with the scenes
of their sufferings and wrongs ever before them, and served to
foment the four insurrections which in this century have empha-
sized the Irish hostility to misgovernment, and have justified the
declaration of Lecky that " the Union, by uniting the parlia-
ments, has divided the nations." Millions of them have sought
a home in foreign lands, where many of them have risen to
positions of power and eminence. " They came to America,"
says Froude, " and who can winder at it ? in no gentle humor.
I confess that had I been myself expelled from my holding by
a landlord's crowbar, I should not have felt particularly loving
towards the government that allowed it."

Emigration, indeed, has been the great cause of the depopu-
lation. Some of the victims of the Land Laws have died on
Irish roadsides, some in poor-houses, and some in lunatic asy-
lums ; many have settled down in England and Scotland, where
they have become a power that has more than once sealed the
fate of governments, and made political majorities oscillate like
a pendulum ; but . the large majority have carried to Australia
and America the embittered war against oppression, and a
vengeful recollection of their earliest experiences of " law " in
Ireland. I am far from maintaining that emigration, within due
limits, is not a healthy sign of a nation's vigor and progress ;
but in the case of Ireland it has been an Exodus, and it is still
continuing. Since 1881 three-quarters of a million Irishmen
have left to seek their fortunes in foreign lands, and in fifty
years there have been as many emigrants as there are people
still left in the country. And the worst of it is that it is the
" pick " of the population, the very best in the country who
leave it. Dr. Johnson once expressed his conviction that the
policy of driving away a people might be successful for a time,
but would assuredly prove short-sighted in the end ; and so it
has been with, the depopulation of Ireland. As Grattan pro-
phesied would be the case, the outlaws have risen in America
to sting their old enemies ; for the teeth of dragons were sown,
and one cannot feel surprised at the enormous crop of vigilant
and restless exiles.

Such are a few of the " Lessons of the Irish Census." The
principle underlying them all, and the key to the whole position,
is the fact that Irish opinion is not allowed to exercise its

224 LESSONS OF THE IRISH CENSUS. [Nov.,

influence in Irish affairs. For one brief period (1782-1800) Ire-
land did, indeed, enjoy the blessings of freedom as secured for
her at the point of the bayonet by her Protestant volunteers ;
and all authorities of the time, Pitt, Lord Sheffield, Lord Chan-
cellor Clare, Under-Secretary Cooke, Speaker Foster, Chancellor
Plunkett, Henry Grattan, and many others, unite in testifying to
the stupendous advance made in Irish prosperity within that
brief period. It is no answer to tell us that " law and order "
prevail in the country. " Order reigns in Warsaw " was the
message of the field-marshal to his imperial master ; but it signi-
fied the tranquillity of the charnel-house and the peace of the
tomb.

Ireland has had decade after decade of such " order."
Froude writes of a time when " order " prevailed so omnipo-
tently in the country that, from St. George's Channel to the
shores of the Atlantic, one would not hear the whistle of a
plough-boy or the lowing of an ox. It was " law and order "
at one period for any Englishman to kill any Irishman with
impunity ; it was " law " that a " mere Irishman " did not live,
but only " existed " ; it was " order " that an Irish Catholic
should give up a horse, no matter of what value, if a Protes-
tant offered $ for it. . He was not allowed to educate or be
educated, to follow in religious affairs the dictates of his con-
science, to be a member of any profession, or to hold any pub-
lic appointment in his own country. Ireland has had enough of
it ; and the census returns surely afford us another proof, were
further proof required, that if for no other reason than the
advisability of a change, the time has come when the advocates
of a more Christian policy towards that country should have an
innings.

JEREMIAH MACVEAGH.

1891.] SAINT BERNARD. 225

SAINT BERNARD.

THERE are many great saints about whose natural character
and physiognomy we know little or nothing. We know that
they were prodigies of grace, pillars of the church, perhaps mar-
tyrs. We may have a special devotion to them, and have ex-
perience of their power and affection. But beyond this they are
mere names to us. Take some of those who are honored by
daily commemoration in the Mass some of the Apostles, Linus,
Cletus, Clement, Xystus, Cornelius, and the rest. Their names
slip glibly on our lips, but what do we know about them ? what
kind of men were they ? what did they do ? how did they look
and speak? what, in a word, was their individuality? No his-
torian has described their actions, no editor has collected their
correspondence, no artist has preserved their features. Their
bodies are buried in peace, but the memory of their individuality
has perished because they lacked not merely the sacred bard,
but (more important) a faithful Boswell. With regard to other
saints, however, Providence has disposed differently. We know
them- so well that they seem familiar friends. We know the
events of their lives in detail ; we have multitudes of their
sayings and doings preserved by admiring followers ; we have
lithographs of their handwriting and photographs of their au-
thentic portraits ; above all, we have their own works, whether
the results of literary labor in which we see the thoughts and
principles that ruled their minds, or their letters to friends in
which we see them as their friends saw them, living, natural, ac-
tual. To this latter class, which is all too small, St. Bernard
belongs. If we choose to study him we may come to know him
better than most of us know our grandfathers. .This year is be-
ing -celebrated the eighth centenary of his birth, so we may
naturally be inclined to ask what kind of man he was; for at
a man's death we ask what he has done, what were the chief
events of his life, but when a man is born questions turn rather
on qualities than actions.

St. Bernard was a Frenchman, of a good family in Burgundy.
We speak of the French as "our lively neighbors," but even
among Frenchmen Burgundians are celebrated for liveliness.
They are a gay, fiery race, as delicate as their cookery and as
generous as their wines. Indeed, many are inclined to attribute
VOL. LIV. 15

226 SAINT BERNARD. [Nov.,

to their superior wine and cooking their long-established su-
periority in art and war. The family of St Bernard was worthy
of its race. His father and brothers were soldiers, famous alike
for their good sense, for their amiability of character, and for
their prowess in war. St. Bernard himself was brought up for
the church, but the sacred vocation never abated his fine spirit ;
and even cloistral observance could not blunt his wit or deaden
his native vivacity. Now, what was St. Bernard like ? We have,
unfortunately, no authentic portrait of him. All those we know
are probably works of the imagination. Most of the following
details are taken from two of his contemporaries who knew him
perfectly well, one being his special friend Abbot William of St.
Theodoric, the other Geoffrey, a monk of Clairvaux, St. Ber-
nard's secretary.

As to stature, St. Bernard was of a good moderate height
(fionestce mediocritatis], rather inclined to tallness than shortness.
No doubt he was one of those who by their straightness and
squareness look taller than they are. His biographers more than
once speak of his elegance, and the grace of his motions, and
the dignity of his walk, all of which would be difficult for a man
whose back and limbs were not perfectly straight. He had fair
hair and a reddish beard, but both became white in course of
time. His face and whole body became very thin, and no won-
der, yet there was usually a ruddiness on his cheeks ; and for
the rest, his skin was so white and delicate that it excited the
astonishment of the old monks of Citeaux when he was a novice.
They could not understand how a man of such delicate tempera-
ment could endure the labors and coarse poverty of their state.
These, however, were signs not merely of delicacy, but also of
that thoroughbred spirit which carries men and horses past many
obstacles, and makes the body a fit instrument for the higher
operations of grace. St. Bernard never could tolerate dirt on his
clothes. We know, of course, that there have been clean saints,
and others not so clean. St. Bernard was a clean saint. One of
his sayings was, " Paupertas semper, sordeo nunquam '' i.e., Pov-
erty yes always, but dirt never. Yet he wore mean poor
clothes, and this was remarked in him even on the occasion that
he went to receive the abbatial benediction.

But though he had this dignity of carriage, St. Bernard had a
wonderful graciousness of countenance. Both his biographers
dwell on this as on a joy which they have lost. It seemed to
be an expression of the spiritual beauty within. " His face was
radiant. There was in his eyes a kind of angelical purity and a

1891.] SAINT BERNARD. 227

dovelike simplicity." Abbot William speaks of his smile as "that
generous smile of his," as if it was familiar to all who knew him.
Then there was something so winning in his manners that with-
out effort he could get people to do what he wanted. Every
one felt at ease with him, even the greatest sinners. All ad-
mired the extraordinary degree in which he combined, what un-
fortunately is so seldom combined, high principle with fascina-
tion of manner. In spite, however, of his radiant counte-
nance and generous smile, St. Bernard was not a jolly monk,
not a man for jokes and laughter. On the contrary he abhorred
them.

Geoffrey tells us that he often saw the saint stand watching
with amazement religious men laughing, and he frequently said
that " from the first years of his monastic life till then he never
remembered having laughed so." St. Bernard was not a dull man,
innocent of any sense of humor, but rather a very bright
Frenchman with a good deal more than his share of the national
esprit. Indeed, it is sometimes difficult to avoid laughing in
reading his descriptions and his plays upon words. Yet his senti-
ments with regard to jokes and laughter were most severe. " You
may," he says in De Consideration, " sometimes tolerate small-talk
\nuga~], but you should never promote it." " It is detestable,"
he says again (De Cons., ii. 13), "if you give way to laughter,
but it is still worse if you excite it." And once more : " A joke
is a joke in the mouth of a secular, but in the mouth of a
priest it is a blasphemy." Of course St. Bernard is speaking to
monks, but still the fact is that equal cheerfulness is a note of a
spiritual man, while gloom and boisterous gayety are both alien
from him. Yet, no doubt, gloom is more opposed to spirituality
than levity.

St. Bernard was by nature a shy, retiring man. This surprises
us in one who dared in full council to face the renowned Abe-
lard, who almost dictated to popes and kings, and who success-
fully preached a Crusade. Yet his biographers use superlatives
when they speak of his modesty. He is homo mansuetissivnis,
his verecundia is tenera, and it endures to his life's end. His elder
brother, as is the custom with elder brothers, had great zeal for
his virtue. Now, when St. Bernard began working miracles this
elder brother became seriously alarmed for the young man's
humility. His uncle also shared these fears. So these two,
whenever St. Bernard worked a miracle, used to fall on him so
energetically that, Abbot William says, it seemed as if God had
given him two stings of the flesh lest the greatness of the revc-

228 SAINT BERNARD. [Nov.,

lations should elate him. They " browbeat his gentle shyness,
they ridiculed the miracles and annihilated them, they accused
him of presumption, and often moved him to tears with their
sarcasms and calumnies." And all the while St. Bernard used to
say nothing and offered no contradiction, though he was the
abbot of this brother and this uncle. Then again with regard to
preaching, in spite of his genius and irresistible power, he had no
liking for it. He often said himself that, no matter how humble
the audience might be, he never opened his mouth without fear
and shamefacedness ; and that it was the fear of God that
pricked him on when he would much rather have been silent.
He is- an instance of what Father Coleridge remarks in connec-
tion with St. John Baptist, that " it is not unfrequently the
way in which God proceeds in his greatest w^orks, to employ for
missions of severity and stern witness men who are either natur-
ally shrinking and retiring, or whose training makes such an en-
terprise uncongenial in the highest degree."

Whatever may have been the ordinary ruddiness of St.
Bernard's cheeks, it is evident that sometimes its appearance
was sufficiently cadaverous. One of these occasions was when
he went to Chalons to be blessed as abbot. He went accom-
panied by one of his monks, Elboldo, a man, we are told, ele-
gant for the size and strength of his body. When they arrived
at the bishop's palace the hall was crowded with clerics and
others, and on their entering St. Bernard so young, so meanly
clad, and so emaciated, almost like a dying man, followed by
Elboldo, so much older and so elegantly robust the contrast
was so absurd that some began to laugh and others to chaff.
The wits found names for the pair: Mors et Vita they called
them. They could not agree which was to be abbot ; some
were for Mors others for Vita; but whether there was any bet-
ting history has not handed down.

These questions were cut short by the entrance of the Bishop
of Chalons, who was then William de Champeaux, the famous
master of the schools. He at the first glance recognized whom
he had to deal with, and went straight to St. Bernard and
treated him with the greatest honor, and from that time
always took the deepest interest in him. How he first showed
this interest by taking charge of St. Bernard's health and de-
livering him up to an ignorant quack is well known. The bishop
had gone to the general chapter of the order and, prostrat-
ing at full length on the ground, had begged that the saint
;night be placed under his authority for a single year. Noth-

1891.] SAI.VT BERNARD. 229

ing could be refused 'to such humility in so great a man.
He returned to Clairvaux, St. Bernard's monastery, and built
him a hut outside the enclosure, where he was to live free from
all care and business, and to follow the prescriptions of the doc-
tor aforesaid. Abbot William, his biographer, paid him a visit
while he was in this hut, and found him full of joy at being
delivered from , the solicitude of government, and very little
afflicted at a situation which to others would have been intolera-
ble. "How are you doing?" asked William. " As well as pos-
sible," answered St. Bernard with one of his generous smiles ;
" formerly rational men obeyed me, and now by the just judg-
ment of God I have to obey an irrational beast." He meant
his medical man ; and William, who stayed to dinner, had a
specimen of his treatment. He says he had " thought that a
man so infirm and who had been committed to the care of so
great a personage as the Bishop of Chalons would have had
suitable food provided for him ; and yet at dinner I saw him
served with food that a healthy man pinched with hunger would
hardly touch." It was so disgusting that when he (Abbot Wil-
liam) saw it, " I wasted away ; I could hardly restrain my
wrath, and was only prevented by the rule of silence from at-
tacking the doctor with indignant abuse as a sacrilegious man
and a murderer." Bernard, however, took everything with in-
difference and complained of nothing.

This medical treatment did not, as we might guess, cure St.
Bernard. Infirmity became an ordinary part of his life. His
health had been permanently injured by the excess of his austeri-
ties in the first years of his religious life. He had misused his
stomach, and afterwards, as usual, his stomach took a long re-
venge. Eating became a torture to him. He could take but
little, and of that little he had to reject the larger part with
great pain. What was left caused him a good deal of further
pain for reasons of which the propriety of the twelfth century
permitted a minute description, but not ours. This infirmity,
which lasted to his death, gradually drove him from common
monastic observance. He was extremely attached to common
exercises and hated singularity. He renounced wearing a hair-
shirt because it was singular. It was sorrow at being turned away
from the common works that drove him as a novice to obtain of
God by prayer the' grace to reap well (gratiam metendi). He
never would use the indulgences granted to elder religious. In
the matter of dispensations, he used to say he regarded him-
self as a novice ; they were suited, he said, to holy, perfect

230 SAINT BERNARD. [Nov.,

men, but as for him, he had need of all the severity of the
order and all the rigor of discipline. It required a precept of
the general chapter to induce him to wear what they called " a
woollen garment like a chlamys cut short," but what we would
call a flannel shirt. However, he had to resign himself in the
end to singularity. His frequent vomiting became disagreeable
to his brethren, and they did not fail to let him know it. He
made a last effort to remain with the community, at least in
choir. He had a hole made in the ground near his abbatial
stall. But the device was not successful, and at length he was
compelled by the " intolerableness of the thing" to give up
coming to choir altogether.

St. Bernard's infirmity made him renounce the common ex-
ercises, but it did not make him renounce mortification. He
continued to afflict himself with fasts and want of sleep. In the
matter of sleep he was somewhat severe toward others also.
He did not tolerate want of spirit, and much less drowsiness in
choir ; and even in the dormitory if he saw a monk lying negli-
gently, or heard one snore too loud, he could hardly bear it
patiently, but upbraided him with sleeping " carnally and just
like a secular." His ordinary food was bread dipped in milk or
hot water ; he seldom touched wine, and he used to say that
water was the only thing that gave him pleasure because it
cooled his throat. The Blessed Fastred tells us that St. Bernard
used to feel a scruple at eating a mess of meal with oil and
honey ; and when Fastred reproached him for his austerity he
answered : " My son, if you only knew the obligations of a
monk, every morsel you eat should be moistened with tears."
The views of the saint with regard to doctors and physic were
in harmony with his views on diet. He gives his opinion in his
letter to the monks of the monastery of St. Anastasius, at the
Tre Fontani near Rome, which is even now held by his de-
scendants the Trappists, and still enjoys its old reputation for
unhealthiness.

He says : " It is not at all becoming in your state of re-
ligion to be seeking medicines for the body. We may tolerate
occasionally common herbs, such as the poor use, and this is not
unusual. But to be buying drugs, to be calling in doctors, to
be drinking draughts, is unbecoming religious, and above all is
contrary to the comeliness and purity of our order." Abbot de
Ranee, the reformer of La Trappe, used to act more or less on
these principles. He used to admit a country surgeon (who was
very likely a barber also) when there was a case for incisions

1891.] SAINT BERNARD. 231

or bone-setting, but he did not call in physicians. St. Bernard
had his ideas on these subjects and we have ours. And it must
be admitted that under our system we enjoy much better health
than did St. Bernard. He became more and more infirm. At
first his custom was to pray standing, but afterwards his bones
became weakened and his feet swollen, and he used to spend
his days always sitting and in a singular immobility. It was not
merely that he kept his seat, but he sat quite motionless,
neither moving his head, or his hands, or his feet, except
when necessity required it. People used to wonder at this
absolute repose, so unusual in France, and it contrasted strong-
ly with the intense activity of his mind. He was overwhelmed
with cares of all kinds, and engrossed in business of the high-
est importance in church and state ; and there he sat all
day dictating ceaselessly, himself remaining the while still as
death.

Nevertheless, in all the languor of sickness and old age,
when he seemed to have lost all sense and motion, there was
one bodily power which never lost its freshness and efficacy,
and that was his voice. He had received it from nature strong
and flexible, and grace had preserved it to him in the wreck
of all the rest. It was a curious thing to see him drag himself
into chapter almost like a dying man, and then to hear him
break out suddenly with a voice of power which could overawe
with its thunders, terrify with its whisper, or charm by its soft
modulations. Of course St. Bernard was a predestined preacher,
and hence it was necessary that he should have this almost
miraculous voice. We may even say that St. Bernard's infirmity,
which cost him so much sorrow, was part of that suavity of
Providence by which he was separated for the work whereunto
he had been taken. For, as he always lived apart from the
community, the ordinary government of the monastery was little
disturbed by his journeys, and also the community missed him
less. But we must not suppose that he enjoyed going out. His
idea in entering the obscure Abbey of Citeaux was to forget
the world and to let the world forget him. He always pre-
served this spirit. His secretary Geoffrey says that from the
beginning he had desired to withdraw himself from all exter-
nal business, and always to remain in the monastery. When
he became infirm he thought he had found a good excuse for
remaining at home. He resolved never to go out again, and
for some time he kept his resolution. It was only at the
united command of the pope and the general chapter that

232 SAINT BERNARD. [Nov.,

he again left his cloister to come to the assistance of the
church in its then pressing necessities.

Men of the world do not understand such conduct. The
idea of a man of great position and ability burying himself
in a silent cloister strikes it like wantonly throwing pearls and
precious silks into the sea. The world gets angry at such
things. The world admires efficiency. High gifts, highly cul-
tivated, strenuously exercised, perfectly successful this is what
the world values. St. Bernard was an unworldly, or rather a
next-worldly man, and if he appreciated his natural gifts, as
no doubt he did, we may be sure that to him it added a
refinement of joy that, besides money and rank, he could throw
genius also into the golden censer of sacrifice. Of course we
know that in the event there was not a single gift or power in
St. Bernard that Providence did not use to the utmost for the
benefit of the church and society. He became eminently a
successful man, the most prominent and influential man of his
century. And therefore the world admires St. Bernard. It ad-
mires the man of genius, the brilliant writer, the poet, the ora-
tor, the politician'. But others, with sense perhaps more purified,
admire rather that which alone he valued in himself, the man
who scorned the world with its successes, who conquered the
world in conquering himself, whose gaze was so riveted on
spiritual beauty that he had not a look for any other, who gave
all his substance for love and despised it as nothing.

B. B.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 233

THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE same evening on which she had been reproved for the
wearing of blue Bessie Delpole drew forth her Book of Confi-
dences and entered the following :

I have been but twenty-four hours in the Fairy Palace, and
have already discovered that the Fairy is a hag hoary, horrid !
She is an Ogress ! Alas ! for my youthful fancy, and dear mum-
my's reading between the lines.

I do believe uncle would have laughed could he have seen
me this morning tortured by " dear Lydia " ; he would say, " It
is just as well, Bess, to be undeceived early in life." One
thing I have made up my mind to I shall not undeceive my
darling mother. It would break her heart to know the truth.
Here I am, and I must make the best of it ; but what can I do
to be happy in this gilded cage? Study French for one thing,
even if I have no talent for languages, according to "Aunt Liz";
but I sha'n't let the Ogress sneer at me for want of pluck. I'll
amuse her to her heart's content, and who knows but in the
end I may turn the tables in my favor.

To think of my having been forced to sing until I was hoarse ;
and such horrid, old sentimental, last-century trash ! " My own
stricken deer," indeed ! Oh dear ! oh dear ! what am I to do
for dresses ? I must discard every blue ribbon to please this
faded beauty, who adorns herself in naught but cerulean tints.

A few days later Bessie again wrote :

My first Sunday in London. Mrs. Hamen sent Dobbs to me
to know "where I worshipped "; as if she didn't know the Champ-
neys were Catholics, having herself been at the convent with
mamma. I answered that I was a member of the One, True,
Catholic, Apostolic Church, which long title made Dobbs stare ;
but she simply said : " Yes, miss ; and for what hour will you
have the carriage, miss ?"

As I have read the London Tablet all my life, I was at no
loss to answer quite glibly, " A quarter to eleven, punctually."

True to a second Mrs. Hamen's coach stood at the door, and
into it I tripped with easy grace, wishing I were called the Lady
Gwendolyn, as the footman touched his hat for orders. " St.

234 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

James's, Spanish Place," I answered as I flung myself into a cor-
ner, and away we rattled.

At the church, or chapel as they call it, seeing the fine livery,
the usher took me up the main aisle and into a front seat,
where I eventually had to make room for some real aristocrats
Petres or Howards, perhaps.

When the plate was handed around at the Offertory I felt very
much ashamed to have forgotten my purse, although I knew there
was nothing in it but a few pieces of American coin. Then the
idea struck me which, indeed, distracted my attention all through
Mass, that I was literally without pocket-money. How very foolish
of me to have given uncle's gold-piece to dear old mummy, who
is so much better off than I am ! If they but knew at home all I
am undergoing I'll not go under, however how uncle would
champ, to be sure ; and mummy, dear mummy why I believe
she would hate the Ogress for having made me prisoner !

CHAPTER IX.

Plucky little Bess was not far wrong in judging the pain her
mother would endure had she an inkling of what her treasure
was being subjected to in the gorgeous mansion on Portland
Square. Her heart would not have fluttered so feverishly, nor
would she have borne her head so high when accosted by Min-
nie Vatts and asked for news of her daughter.

" I hear Bess is living in England with a wealthy countess.
I wonder, Mrs. Delpole, you should care to let her go among
Britishers. I'm satisfied with being an American queen ! And
when you've got lots of cash, why you know you're at the top
of the ladder. . Give Bess my love, and tell her to write me all
the fun she is having."

" Thank you, Miss Vatts," answered the widow with pointed
politeness ; " my daughter only corresponds with her family, but
I shall tell her of your kind inquiries as to her welfare."

Bess's first letter, written the morning of Higgins's departure,
bore the impress of rosy youth in every line. The second,
which followed within ten days, was not quite so gaily colored ;
there were some sombre tints which Mrs. Delpole attributed
with more truth than she was aware of to a tardy fit of homesick-
ness. This, with the exception of a letter to the doctor and
another to her so-called " Aunt Liz," was the last line from Bess
in months.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 235

Although Mrs. Delpole acutely felt her daughter's silence, it
did not shock her motherly love, for she unselfishly thought her
darling must be having a good time ; and should she get into
trouble of any kind her friends would find it out, for ill news
travels fast.

Meanwhile, in London, Miss Delpole was put about to procure
stamps for her correspondence. Those she found in Mrs. Ha-
men's escritoire she did not scruple to appropriate ; but they
were few in number. Upon asking of the Ogress her leave to
order more, her mother's cherished correspondent, dear Lydia,
replied that it was an unhealthy, morbid taste for young girls to
be always writing ; in future Bess could exercise her fingers as
amanuensis. Thenceforward our heroine was set a task every
forenoon in helping her paralytic patroness with her letters,
business or otherwise.

Time wore on ; Bess had been in the great metropolis through
the heat and dust of August vainly longing to see the sights,
and wondering Mrs. Hamen never offered to let her go any-
where. Her sole recreation was a daily drive in one or other of
the parks ; but alas ! the invalid in her cushions could not bear
to be stared at, and thus most of the time her young companion
had to catch what glimpses she could of the gay world through
a crack in the silk curtains.

Twice a week the fashionable physician called to examine the
state of his chronic patient, and twice a week he complimented
Miss Delpole upon the good effect her sunny presence had upon
the spirits of Mrs. Hamen and " consequently upon your general
health, my dear madam," Sir Lionel would add with an uplift-
ing of his white hands so expressive of buoyancy and hope that
Bess in her mind made a note of the gesture for Dr. Champ-
ney's benefit.

One day the great man, after going through the usual form
of taking pulse and temperature, whilst his keen eyes searched
the invalid through and through, remarked that Mrs. Hamen
had a wonderful hold on life.

" Really, my dear madam, quite wonderful ! Miss Delpole's
society is better than a trained nurse or my nostrums ; youth,
beauty, a laughter-loving temperament, is the panacea for all ills."
And Sir Lionel gave Bess a suave bow, which made her feel
she was of some importance after all in the rich woman's
household.

" But," continued the wily doctor, " I hope, my dear madam,
that you have made your will. I make it a point of conscience

236 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID, [Nov.,

never to let, through fault . of mine, any of my patients lose
this great and lasting satisfaction. The making of a will is the
most interesting point in our lives. Some few know it, and be-
gin early and go on adding codicil upon codicil. It has always
been a matter of surprise to me that so many people put off
this pleasure till so late that they view it almost as a trial.
Now, I made my own will quite recently, for in my poor opinion
it is a duty we owe to society, the peace and order of which is too
often troubled by petty squabblings over what we leave behind
us. More especially is this the case with you and me, 'Mrs. Ha-
men, who have no direct heirs. We have, therefore, the true
pleasure of disposing of our means." And Sir Lionel smiled be-
nignly on Bess and his wealthy client, as he dextrously slipped
the guinea from the mantel-edge into his vest-pocket and left
the room.

The physician's advice was not lost upon Mrs. Hamen, who
knew, perhaps, quite as well as Sir Lionel that her tongue was
getting thick, and another attack of vertigo such as she had had
the night previous might turn into a fatal stroke.

So for a number of mornings Bess's post in the pretty sitting-
room of her patroness was taken by a lawyer and his clerk, and
our heroine was left to her own devices.

CHAPTER X.

Having her full amount of true American independence in
her, Miss Delpole rang the bell for Dobbs, whom she ordered to
straightway put on her bonnet to accompany her on a walk.

Thus for three delicious days did Bess ramble about the
streets of London: that London of her dreams, and which she
knew so well from the great volume of Pictorial London she
and her dear mother had together so enthusiastically conned be-
fore she started on her adventurous search for wealth.

As it was her native city Dobbs proved herself a very fair
guide, and not only did she show Bess the usual points of in-
terest, but she took her to out-of-the-way corners seldom trod-
den by the feet of lady tourists. The maid had numerous
friends, both male and female, who materially aided her in carry-
ing out Miss Delpole's desire of seeing everything.

" Mind you, Dobbs, I want to go everywhere, and see every-
thing a woman can see. I'm an American," said Bess with a
proud toss of her head, " and am not afraid of anybody."

And so Bess had her wish gratified in all sorts of unexpected

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 237

ways, for Dobbs took her through markets and quaint old chop-
houses, where the woman's friends treated our heroine with semi-
familiar respect and a vast amount of staring, particularly after
having heard the young lady was from America which Dobbs
took very good care they should be informed of as soon as
possible.

Tired out with her expeditions, Bess would return to the
handsome mansion in Portland Square not a jot sorry she had
not gone about in the coach and four of her dreams.

Looking over her Book of Confidences we find the fol-
lowing :

What a jolly time I have had going about with Dobbs !
Really, I think I have seen more than if the Ogress herself had
done me the honor of showing me the lions of London ; because
I've seen a great deal more than lions : I've seen a whole mena-
gerie of wonders.

Certainly Lydia Hamen would not have taken me to that
delicious chop-house in Ave-Mary-lane. Oh, such a queer place !
where you eat in little stalls, and only know you have neighbors
by the rattle of their forks.

Then I've been in an East-end brewery, and have drunk
some of the beer hot as my lips could bear it. Dobbs's cousin
is foreman, and he asked me to come again. I never knew a
woman have so many cousins as Dobbs ; I can't see how she
keeps track of them all.

I'm quite pleased with Dobbs. She is not at all presuming,
although I only repay her services with my blue ribbons and
sashes, which the Ogress won't let me wear.

We positively managed to get into the House of Commons,
and without an admission card either. As good luck has been
favoring my explorations all along, I was not surprised when
Dobbs told me she had a cousin on duty " h'a regular h'M. P.,
miss, he is." I believe, for a second, I was silly enough to think
she meant Member of Parliament, till I saw the initials on the
hat of a burly policeman. I don't know what Dobbs gave him,
but it must have been something nice, as he stood us in a little
window, where we could see everything and hear something too,
when the swinging door beside us was opened as the members
passed in or out. I saw all the notabilities, whom I recognized
thanks to Punch ; for I regret to say on this point Dobbs is
very deficient.

Whilst I was enjoying myself in this humble way the Ogress
was making her will and disposing of her millions. I wonder has

238 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

she remembered me. Poor me ! I've given up the idea of being
her heiress, but from something she said recently I think she'll
not leave me out in the cold.

A night or two ago I had done myself more than credit at
the piano, ending off with a grand flourish, when the bedizened
Ogress called me to her, and made me sit quite close up to her
chair. Then she put her hand on my head, and, with the clawy
fingers twining through my braids, said with a big sigh :

" You're a sweet, good girl, Bessie ; and your mother is to be
envied having such a daughter. You have a happy, cheerful
disposition, and know how to take life. You will make things
easy for yourself, and those about you. I fancy even wealth
would not spoil you, for your tastes are simple and you are
easily pleased. There now, give me a kiss and go to bed ! "
And as my ruby lips touched hers she added : " Take an old
woman's advice, my child ; if ever you are rich, don't be selfish.
I know I have been too selfish all through life, and it has not
made me happy."

And the poor old trot began to cry ! It touched my heart
so, I sobbed with her; till she bade me pull the bell for her
servants to carry her up-stairs an operation I have never been
allowed to witness.

I think I'll take to calling her the Fairy Godmother again :
I do feel so sorry for her! Well, if ever I am rich I'll have a
good time, even if my tastes are simple ; but I fear a lot of
money might take the simplicity out of them.

" Good-night, sweet heiress ! " At this juncture we may remark
that Miss Delpole kissed the tips of her fingers to her image in
the mirror.

I wonder how it will sound in the will ? Something in this
style, perhaps : " I bequeath and deed to Elizabeth Delpole,
only child of my beloved friend and school companion, etc., all
the residue of my estate ." Of course she must have a lot
to give away, and no doubt I may expect at the last moment
an invoice of poor relations. Dear me ! if she has only half as
many as Dobbs has, they'll make a fine show. But but enough.
To bed.

CHAPTER XI.

For the next month or two Mrs. Hamen never felt better;
she was cheerful, and was not so exacting with her young com-
panion.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 239

Really the making of her will, in easing her of a dreaded re-
sponsibility, had lightened her spirits.

She invented for herself a new pleasure in getting little Bess
to tell her what she would do should she one day come into a
fortune a style of amusement better suited to our heroine's
taste than stumbling through a French novel.

The girlish prattle was a perfect treat to the invalid, who
for years had foolishly made of herself a prisoner and a recluse ;
and, to the surprise of her household, Mrs. Hamen's carriage was
now ordered to satisfy the least of Miss Delpole's whims.

In and out of the city, up and down the parks, through the
most fashionable streets, in front of the most aristocratic shops
Mrs. Hamen's livery was paraded. And it may not be beyond
the range of human probabilities that some curious eyes sought
a glimpse of the bright girLface so evidently enjoying its first
view of London life.

The summer was fast waning, and Bess was beginning to find
even the beautiful parks tiresome ; she longed for the country,
with its meadows and green fields and merry song-birds. Could
she have persuaded Mrs. Hamen to move for a while to Bath
or Torquay, or some near watering-place, Bess's happiness would
have been supreme ; but when she hinted to Sir Lionel that a
change might benefit his patient, the great man who was himself
enjoying life at Astral Towers, the recently-bought country-seat
of Bess's countryman, the Pennsylvania oil-king, and only came
to London once a week on business Sir Lionel raised his eye-
brows, and remarked that invalids were most benefited by home-
comforts.

The official visits of the fashionable physician, and a call now
and again from an old maiden aunt of the sick woman, a Miss
Rebecca Briggs, with whom Bess made friends, were the only
break in the young girl's life. Yet, strange to say, Bess was not
lonely. At her home on Staten Island she had not been spoilt
by variety, and as she settled herself down for a long siege of
her present life, she made the best of it. She painted and sang
and read, and was not unhappy, notwithstanding her desire for
a change. At nights she carried on with herself imaginary con-
versations in front of the mirror to keep her brain from rusting,
while awaiting the day when her Fairy Godmother should see fit
to launch her in society. Would this coveted day ever come ?
was a question constantly asked, and as constantly left without
reply until well, Bess did not like even to think the thing
about the shoes people leave behind them ; so she simply wrote

240 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

in her journal : " My life seems to be a big point of interroga-
tion, the answer being dragged along, under my eyes, as it were ;
and yet I cannot read the riddle."

But even as Miss Delpole penned these lines the word of
the enigma had been spoken, and was being wafted nearer and
nearer with the autumn fogs settling down over the dense
human mass which moves and breathes in London.

One evening, after their usual tete-a-tete dinner, the ladies
were seated over a late cup of tea in the drawing-room, when
Bess noticed a wild grasping forward of Mrs. Hamen's unpar-
alyzed hand, as of a drowning creature snatching at the air ;
then suddenly, before she could summon assistance, or even fly
to the side of her mother's friend, the head fell down on the
bejewelled neck ; a little shiver, a gasp, and death had claimed
its booty.

We need not describe the few hours which followed upon
this sudden demise of a wealthy woman.

Sir Lionel came and felt the pulse, shrugged his shoulders,
murmured " heart-failure " ; looked on the mantel for his guinea,
which he failed to find, Bess in the excitement having forgotten
to place, it there, and bowed himself out of the room.

The physician's visit was quickly followed by one from a
prominent member m of the Post Medical Profession, who, with
hands in his pockets, gave orders to two assistants, talking
of the deceased as of an art subject preparing for exhibition, to
be touched up here and lightened there. And the exhibition
took place and lasted three days, after which the curtain was
drawn, and Lydia Hamen had for ever passed away from the
scrutinizing eyes of mortals. .

CHAPTER XII.

The first information Mrs. Delpole had of her " daughter's
bereavement," as she styled the death of her old schoolmate,
" Lydia Languish," was the insertion in the daily papers.

The small family at West Brighton were sitting over their
rolls and coffee, Dr. Champney hurrying through his second cup ;
his sister, who ate sparingly in the mornings, scanning The
Times, that she might give it to the doctor to read in the horse-
cars. Suddenly the widow uttered an exclamation so startling
as very nearly to result in the shattering of the porcelain cup
the physician was just setting down.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 241

" Great heavens, Francis ! Lydia has gone to glory, and Bess
will ride home in her coach and four ! "

And in her excitement Agnes Delpole almost tore the news-
paper to fragments. She ran to her brother, and hung over his
neck while he read the paragraph she pointed out to him.

" Hamen. Suddenly, at her house in Portland Square, Lon-
don, Lydia, daughter 'of the late Robert Hamen of New York,
and relict of Arthur Hamen, late of her Britannic Majesty's
East India Company."

When he had finished, Dr. Champney's throat was so vio-
lently squeezed and the tiny bare spot on the crown of his head
so hotly kissed that he had great difficulty in getting breath
enough to remark :

" Well, Agnes, of one thing we are certain : our bird will fly
back to its nest, and we'll be glad to hear the chirpy song
again."

And the good doctor's eyes were moist, showing how much,
if in silence, he had missed his niece. " Now, on with my over-
coat ; I must be off."

But as Mrs. Delpole helped Dr. Champney adjust one coat
over the other she could not resist unburdening herself of a
most weighty thought :

" Dear Frank ! considering the altered circumstances under
which Bess comes home, don't you think that we might move
out of this shabby house into that pretty Queen Anne cottage
Bess and I have so often admired from our * turret,' and which
the sweet child calls * the Moated Grange ' ? In view of such a
contingency I have ascertained the rent, and really it is very
reasonable."

Dr. Champney evidently thought it " very reasonable " not to
interrupt his sister ; so when she ceased speaking, with just a
little hope that she had won her point, he quietly remarked, as
he buttoned his gloves :

" It might be as well to wait until we hear from Bess before
signing the lease. Good-by, Agnes; you'll find a couple of
foreign stamps on my desk ; there's a steamer to-morrow, you
know." And there was a suspicious twinkle in the doctor's eye
as he pulled the hall door to behind him, thus putting a full
stop to argument.

Mrs. Delpole, eager for action, seized upon her brother's
hint, and wrote her daughter an epistle replete with motherly
advice as how best to comport herself now that she was so soon
to come into her property
VOL. LIV. 16

242 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

Having done this, she felt really too exhausted, as well as
excited, over the news to settle down to the prose of house-keep-
ing ; so the happy woman determined to take the air, and carry
her letter to post in New York.

The trip across the bay this crisp November forenoon calmed
her nerves and gave her leisure for reflection. On her return
Mrs. Vatts and her bulky daughter Minnie met her as she
stepped off the boat.

" I see Mrs. Hamen is dead," said the brewer's wife, her
voice smothered in furs and fat. " Bessie won't know where to
begin to spend her money, now she's rich."

" Oh ! won't she bring lots of things from London, ma,"
added Miss Vatts. " You'll not cut us, I hope, Mrs. Delpole
when you move into your villa on Bard Avenue. The agent
told me you were pricing it lately."

Agnes Delpole merely smiled in answer a lofty, enigmatical
smile and passed up the street.

Before she reached the house she found the whole village
knew of the event, which was being liberally commented on.

At the grocer's, where she stepped in a moment for some
spices, the man remarked, with the cool insolence of a tradesman
who is sometimes made to await payment of his bill : " So Miss
Bessie, I hear, has got to change her name to get the old wo-
man's leavings, eh ? "

Mrs. Delpole's head was carried very high as she quickly
made her exit, but on her cheeks burned two spots of red-hot
indignation. Her whole being protested against her poverty,
and more especially against the horrors of " a drudge" who,
from having no one to talk with indoors, must needs drag her
long tongue into every corner shop for a gossip. Oh ! things
would go differently when Bess got back.

"My sweet Bess! How lonesome my pet must be in that
great house without her Fairy Godmother. Dear Lydia ! God
rest her soul and reward all her kindness to my child. And
to think she died but yesterday ! What would I not give to have
money enough to cable Bess a few words of love and condo-
lence. Well, all things have an end even poverty ! "

This happy thought so haunted and entranced Agnes Del-
pole that when Dr. Champney got home to dinner he found
his sister expending the superabundance of her energy in a
regular up-side-down cleaning.

" Why, Agnes ! this is perfectly ecstatic ! " laughed the doc-
tor, as, her head in a towel and enveloped from head to foot in

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 243

a blue kitchen apron, Mrs. Delpole issued from a dark closet
under the stairway Bess was pleased to call the "black hole,"
and into which the happy family were wont to throw higgledy-
piggledy any discarded article from cravats to broken lamps.
" I thought we had got through the house-cleaning last week ? "

"Well, we must tidy up things for Bess, you know. We'll
try and look as much like Portland Square as possible ! " And
Agnes, warm and cheerful from her work, laughed heartily as
she cast aside her wraps and ran up to " the turret chamber."

" Not more than five minutes' grace," called after her the
doctor ; " I'm as hungry as a Russian wolf."

That night Mrs. Delpole slept with the great volume of Pic-
torial London beside her, and her dreams were all a moving pro-
cession of gorgeous obsequies, the chief mourner of which was
a stately young lady, whose fair hair and blue eyes were set off
to perfection by the heavy crepe of her attire.

CHAPTER XIII.

Extract from Miss Delpole's journal :

London, November

How am I to put into writing all I have gone through since
the death of the Ogress ! The funeral was magnificent. Such
an array of coaches and splendid liveries ! Mr. Crosby, the
senior member of the firm of which old Higgins is junior,
arranged it all. As the journals say, it was gotten up regard-
less of expense ; or in Dobbs's words : " Mr. Crosby, miss, does
things reckless of expenditure."

One rather droll thing I heard during the service at the
house, which nearly upset my dignity. Hurlbut and James were
standing behind my chair, and when the parson got to these
words, " Amen, amen ! I say unto you, he that believeth," the
butler whispered : " Jeemes, the Scriptures is very personal at
times ! "

But I feel too out of sorts for jokes. Well, yesterday \ve
had the reading of the will. I say we, for I was by no means
alone. The dining-hall, in which we assembled, was well warm-
ed by fires at either end, and those who were not near enough
to them for comfort kept on their outer garments. If all those
present were relatives, Mrs. Hamen had many more than she
cared to speak of ; for besides her aunt, Miss Briggs, and the
artist, Harry Brush, with whom she corresponded through me,

244 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

and usually enclosing a check, she never mentioned any others.
These two sat opposite me, on the other side of Mr. Crosby's
table ; the household of the defunct filling up the back of the
apartment.

I must really put down what I know about this Knight of
the Palette, for there is quite a romance attached to his life,
and he looks it, with his dishevelled crow-locks, and startling
black eyes in a sallow face.

It seems he is the late Mr. Hamen's son by a first wife, an
East-Indian and a rajah's daughter. This creature, her son,
was sent to England, and old Miss Briggs brought him up.

I suppose she let him have his own way too much, for he
wouldn't mind his papa, who, on returning from Madras, want-
ed him to make money in his own counting-house.

There was a scene, such as we read of in novels. Papa
Hamen jerked one way, Master Harry pulled the other, with
the usual result, that when they let go they both came down
flat.

Old Hamen he must have been a vicious old brute when
he found his match for stubbornness, told the lad he might make
off with himself, and leave his name behind him, as he had for-
gotten to marry his mother ! Witlj that Master Harry flung an
inkstand at the face of his dad, and left the house for ever.

This happened some ten years ago, just previous to Mr.
Hamen's marriage with his Cousin Lydia.

I got all this information out of "Aunt Briggs," one day
that she and I took luncheon together. She is a tender-hearted
old creature, notwithstanding her wabbly head and eyes that
look as if she were for ever pressing tears. She is the only
friend I have made in London.

She used to come on a visit now and again, to negotiate a
check for her " nurseling," who was living in Paris, " very much
on his brush," as he called it, which I believe to mean he was
starving.

Harry Brush is now twenty-six, but looks much older, he is
so shockingly lean.

He and Miss Briggs sat side by side at the reading ; and
truly I was quite touched watching the old lady's happy look
as she kept her eyes, as steadily as her rickety neck would let
her, fastened on her boy.

I wondered if she had told him that I knew his story, or
had she imparted to him any of my little confidences to her ?
At any rate, I caught him looking at me several times. He

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 245

seemed to be sorry he had come, for most of the time he wore
a frown as black as night. Then his great-aunt would whisper
to him, and his whole face changed into such a smile it re-
minded me more of a brilliant flash of lightning than anything
else.

Mr. Crosby preceded the reading of the will by a very nice
little speech, which, if any of those present came with a feeling
of " first lien " on the property, must have effectually unde-
ceived them.

" Our late client," he began, without the usual " ladies and
gentlemen," " as no doubt you are aware " glancing round the
room and, it may be fancy, his eye resting longest my way
"has no relation near enough to have hampered her in any
way, by a legitimate claim, in the disposal of her property.
The larger portion of this property she held in her own right ;
the residue coming to her through marriage with her first
cousin, Arthur Hamen, late of Her Majesty's Madras agency ;
and which property said Arthur Hamen deeded to his wife in
fee simple that is, it was hers to will away as she pleased.
Now, as the law desires equity, and the approbation of such as
are in anywise interested in its execution, a certain number of
you here present have been summoned as being in a more or
less remote degree connected with the testatrix by ties of blood
or marriage, that you might bear witness, or protest, as the case
might be. We will now proceed to the reading of the instru-
ment."

Really, I felt awe-struck, and rustled my beautiful bombazine
as little as possible as I settled down all attention. Even with
my capital memory it is impossible to recall all the items.
There were charitable bequests, of course, and a pretty keep-
sake for Sir Lionel. And every one of the servants was hand-
somely remembered. In fact, a good many thousand pounds
went in a way which did not in the least interest me. At last
an item came which made me prick up my ears, already ting-
ling with excitement :

" To my honored and beloved maternal aunt, Rebecca
Briggs, I will the income of twenty thousand pounds for the
remainder of her mortal life ; upon her death to lapse to my
residuary legatee. Item : To Elizabeth Delpole, only daughter
of my dear school-friend, Agnes Champney Delpole " (I felt
like fainting ; and Dobbs must have noticed it, for she handed
me a silver flacon of smelling-salts she had evidently appro-
priated from her late mistress' toilet-table), " in view of the four

246 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

months' services as companion with which Miss Delpole has
favored me, and in grateful remembrance of the pleasant hours
her youthful society has afforded me, and as a mark of my
appreciation and love for her as a dear friend, I will and deed
to her all that I die possessed of ' (Heavens ! I was swoon-
ing) " in the way of jewels and wardrobe ; with the sole proviso
that she wear mourning three months for her well-wisher.
Moreover, I will and deed to the above-mentioned Elizabeth
Delpole the sum of " (I felt myself breathing apoplectically ;
and Crosby heard me, for he looked up over his spectacles and
began again) "the sum of five hundred pounds, over and
above which her return passage to America is to be paid out of
my estate."

Here the lawyer made a pause, to search among his papers
for a yellow bit of parchment, on which he placed his left hand.
My composure had somewhat returned to me as he resumed :

" Item : to my second cousin, Henry Hamen, known as
Harry Brush The artist, as he heard his name, sprang out
of his seat, and in a violent manner said : " Brush, sir ; not
Hamen ! " And I think he spoke the name with a venomous
hiss, like an Indian snake.

Mr. Crosby resumed : " Henry Hamen, so called Harry
Brush, I give back the hereunto attached certificate of marriage
between the late Arthur Hamen, and the late Leila, daughter of
Rajah Dnig-Tippoo, and which I found among my late hus-
band's effects."

Here Mr. Crosby got up and, walking over to the artist,
gave him the document. Of course I am too young to be able
to decipher people's faces, but I almost thought, as Harry took
the certificate, he looked more revengeful than pleased. Old
Miss Briggs perfectly beamed with pleasure, and took the paper
and caressed it all through the rest of the reading, which, there
being but one short item, did not last long.

" To said Henry Hamen, my step-son, remembering the past
injuries he has suffered, I will and bequeath, without let or hin-
drance of any kind, except such as are herein above specified,
all my estate, both real and personal, to have and to hold for
himself, his heirs, and assigns for ever."

Then followed a bewildering enumeration of the Ogress' pro-
perty, of which I understood but little. The deed was signed
in Lydia Hamen's best hand, which we all inspected as the
lawyer desired us to do before dispersing.

And thus ended the most important moment of my life of

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 247

eighteen years ! My elated hopes have been rudely dashed to
the ground ; instead of the heiress of untold wealth, I find
myself very much where I was when I started my adventure,
except that my dear old mummy is not here to have a good
cry with me.

Perhaps the bitterest pill I have had to swallow was on
leaving the dining-hall to meet face to face with Mr. Higgins.
He had come to consult with the heir about his American secu-
rities ; and had the audacity to say to me, with a most insinuat-
ing bow :

" I hope, Miss Bessie, we may have the pleasure of return-
ing home by the same steamer."

Had I not been bred a lady, I'm very sure I should have
scratched his face, or pulled his red hair, or done something
horrid ! As it was, I swept past him in my black train with
an " Ah ! Mr. Higgins, I did not think to meet you so soon
again."

Well, I have but a few more days in London, and then
exit for ever the "laughable episode of My Mother's Friend"!

CHAPTER XIV.

Bessie Delpole had too fine a sense of justice to feel more
than a passing indignation for the way in which Mrs. Hamen
had rewarded her short season of slavery ; and her spirits, if at
first inclined to be blue, soon regained their wonted grace of
coloring. When old Miss Briggs took possession of the Port-
land Square Mansion, in the name of her great-nephew, she and
Bess became capital friends ; and, indeed, our heroine without the
vigilance and prompt action of her ally would have lost a great
part of Lydia Hamen's costly wardrobe, for the servants were
consoling themselves for the loss of their mistress by appropri-
ating her relics.

The number and sumptuousness of the costumes quite bewil-
dered Bess ; but, velvet, satin, or silk, all bore the impress of
the defunct's taste for blue, every tint and shade of her favorite
color being represented.

Miss Delpole threw up her arms in despair, and declared her
life would not be long enough were she forced to wear out the
toilettes of her late patroness ; and, forsooth, she had no inclina-
tion to dedicate herself to one color, however beautiful.

"Why, my dear young friend," remarked Miss Briggs, "you

248 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

need not wear them ; sell them, or give them to your friends. I
don't wonder poor Lydia had such low spirits always in the
blues ! "

And the old maid and the young maid both laughed at the
innocent witticism.

When Bess examined the jewels she no longer thought her-
self ill-treated, but exulted in finding herself heiress to so much
wealth, and in her heart almost believed her mother's friend had
come of Jewish stock to have been so fond of precious stones.
They would have graced a queen ; and Miss Briggs shared with
her nephew the pleasure of watching the girlish eyes gloat over
such magnificence.

One day Bess was in the morning-room packing each lovely
" parure " into its case, and thence to a box she had ordered to
be specially made for her treasures. Being alone she could not
resist trying on a number of " my jewels," as she took pride in
calling her legacy. Suddenly she came across the triple neck-
lace of pearls and turquois Mrs. Hamen wore the night of her
introduction ; Bess, with a disdainful toss of her head, flung it
aside, exclaiming as she did so :

"You may be very fine, but I never expect to wear you.
You remind me too much of my Fairy Godmother, the late
Ogress."

A queer, short laugh gave the girl a start, and looking
around, she saw the sallow face of the artist at her shoulder.

" O Mr. Hamen ! I thought I was alone," said Bess, not
very well pleased at the interruption.

" I pray you will pardon my intrusion, Miss Delpole ; but as
an artist I have almost as much taste for pretty things as a
girl perhaps I ought to say young lady to you ; only you don't
look as if you were very long out of the nursery, you know."
And the Knight of the Palette gave Bess a quizzical side-look
not at all pleasing to her dignity.

"I am not quite so tall as you are, Mr. Hamen, but, if you
will believe me, I am of age, being eighteen ; and as such fully
able and quite apt to defend myself against any want of re-
spect." And having delivered her mind thus clearly, Bess pro-
ceeded with her labors with great composure, except that her
cheeks were a shade more rosy than usual, which was no doubt
quite as much from her exertions as vexation.

At this juncture Miss Briggs entered, having caught part of
our heroine's rebuke : " Don't be quarrelling, children, when you
have but a few hours together," broke in the old maid in tremu-

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 249

lous accents, and wobbling her head first at one and then at the
other. " Bessie, dear, be a good girl, and let Harry help you
stow away your pretty things."

" There, Miss Delpole, you can't resist my aunt when she
makes babies of us both," laughed the young man. " I should
like to help you, if you wouldn't mind?"

And so it happened that Bess was mollified, and the long,
lean, yellow-faced artist was installed her chief packer. He
proved himself an adept in the art of crowding much into small
space, which, when Bess praised him for it, he said it was part
of his calling.

" For many years, Miss Delpole, I have carried all my be-
longings on my back, so that I have been forced to study the
theory of condensing."

Then the artist, their labors ended, said with a graceful flour-
ish, as he handed his companion the key : " I trust, Miss Delpole,
you will have as much pleasure in wearing these ornaments as I
have had pleasure in assisting you to pack them."

We regret to have to write that Miss Delpole, in a moment
of whimsical petulance rather foreign to her nature, and which
we must perhaps attribute to fatigue, answered the little compli-
ment by this rude speech :

" Thanks ! But I don't expect to wear those things. I'm
much more likely to sell them, to get enough to live on ! "

Bess was very sorry for what she said almost before the
words were out of her mouth, for Harry in his queer, critical
way looked at her a moment, then quietly answered :

" I hope you'll never do that, Miss Delpole ; the greater part
of those jewels are heir-looms." And Harry smiled at his im-
promptu fib.

" Then why don't you keep them ? I thought heir-looms
should never go out of the family ! "

Miss Bess was made to suffer a blush for this outburst, as the
young man coolly remarked :

" Well, I may get them back some day ahem ! You must
write me, Miss Delpole, should you ever wish to dispose of
them ; we might, perhaps, come to an understanding. It needn't
be a matter of dollars and cents, either ! "

And Mr. Hamen laughed so heartily that Bess was perfectly
disconcerted and fled to her room, the merry peal pursuing.

As our heroine came to London so she left it in Lydia
Hamen's stately coach, which was preceded to the station by a
van for her numerous boxes and trunks.

250 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

Old Miss Briggs kissed her tenderly good-by, but the artist,
to Bess's surprise, jumped in beside her, and accompanied her to
the railway. There he secured her a first-class compartment, and
feed the guard so the youthful traveller should not be molested ;
he bought her also a batch of the latest novels to while away
the tedium of the journey.

Then the bell was rung, and for a last moment Harry stood
on the step of the train. He stretched his hand out to Bess,
and as she put hers into it, he leant over and pressed it quickly
to his lips.

As Bess as hastily withdrew her fingers from his grasp Harry
whispered maliciously :

" Pardon ! Those fingers will wear the rings of my ancestors.
The thought of the heir-looms overpowered me."

The train was jerked into motion before Bess could gather
her wits to answer this sally.

Had she dared to turn her eyes to the platform, she would
have seen the artist waving his hat with one hand, while the
tips of the long fingers of the other were just preparing a
flighty kiss.

But Bess would not look, and the kiss never took flight, and
Harry took his hand down and stuck it in his pocket, as if he
were putting the kiss in there to keep.

He could still hear the distant clatter, clatter of the Holy-
head express, and had his ears been very sensitive the artist
might have heard, too, the flutter-flutter of a maiden's heart.

CHAPTER XV.

Upon arriving at Liverpool what was Bess's dismay to see
issue out of the next carriage to her own the bald head of the
junior member of the firm of Crosby, Fox & Co.

" Let me assist you with your satchels, Miss Delpole," said
Higgins, taking possession of a number of articles.

" Very nice of young Hamen to let me take you home. I
feel very much honored indeed ; and I hope to make the voyage
as comfortable for you as possible perhaps even attractive."

" You are very obliging," was Bess's curt reply to the enthu-
siasm of the old bachelor, who, notwithstanding many slights on
the part of his companion, continued to press every attention
upon her during the week of very stormy weather they passed
at sea.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 251

The vessel was nearing port ; a number of passengers were on
deck eagerly watching for Fire Island Light, amongst them Miss
Delpole and her devoted cavalier.

She was leaning her elbows on the taffrail, her pretty face
resting in the palms of her hands, her eyes moist with emo-
tion.

Behind her Higgins held on his arm an extra shawl, and his
twinkling gray eyes were fixed on the young girl. Bess gave a
shiver.

" The night is cold ; let me wrap you up. Or take a walk,
Miss Bess. Looking at the shore won't land us any sooner."
And fastening the shawl over her shoulders, Mr. Higgins
crooked his arm.

"Well, as you say, we can't be in New York before to-mor-
row " ; and with a sigh Bess slipped her hand into the old bach-
elor's arm. She had got so used to his services that she took
them quite as her right.

They had not made many turns when Mr. Higgins broke
the silence by saying in soft, oily accents :

" Miss Delpole, you never call me Higgins now ! I wish you
would. My name sounds almost pretty when spoken by you."

" Really, Mr. Higgins, I don't understand you. To-morrow
we reach New York, and our intercourse ceases." And Bess
withdrew her hand and walked quite stiffly.

" Oh, no ! Miss Bessie, you mistake ; we will see a great deal
of each other, on the contrary. I have orders from Mr. Ha-
men to keep my eye on you, and "

" I consider Mr. Hamen very impertinent, and you, Mr.
Higgins, extremely insolent !"

The agent laughed a silent, suppressed giggle at this flare-up,
and then added :

" I beg your pardon, Miss Delpole, if I have offended ; and
you must excuse me for saying that I am very much interested
in you. I have been thinking for some weeks past how I
could best care for you " ; and after a slight pause, " I have
reached the conclusion that the simplest way is to make you
my wife. My proposal startles you ; you feel, perhaps, insulted
at my abruptness ; but let me tell you that I know all about
your circumstances, and besides have had the enjoyment of
watching the growth of your taste for wealth. I own a house
on Fifth Avenue, which, if not quite so gorgeous as the one we
left in Portland Square, is quite a handsome affair for New
York. J own horses and a coach ; I never cared for livery, but

252 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

you can suit yourself. I am only forty-five, and am fond of
gaiety, and could make you very happy. Don't answer me this
moment ; think it over, my dear. Mrs. Delpole will not refuse
me for a son-in-law. Before leaving England I wrote a proposal
for your hand, accompanied by a full statement of what I am
worth on the market ; and I flatter myself she will greet me to-
morrow quite affectionately." And Higgins chuckled at the
thought that he was rich enough to afford the luxury of a
pretty, penniless wife.

Bessie's silence led him to believe his offer had touched the
vanity of so young a creature. She, on the contrary, did not
trust herself to speak, so enraged did she feel. When they
reached the companion-way, without a word she turned from
him to descend.

" Take your own time, Miss Bess," Higgins called after her ;
" think it over, think it over !"

And Bessie's last night at sea, morally speaking, was tempest-
tossed indeed.

The following day the great ship steamed into the beautiful
harbor, and reached the same' dock whence Bess had sailed a
few months previous. The young girl could scarcely realize she
had ever left home, for there stood her uncle, her mother with
outstretched arms, and a little to one side the kindly face of
her godmother, Eliza Stone very much in the same positions
as when she bade them good-by. -But how different were her
feelings ! Her departure had been as a fledgling leaving the
nest, filled with the hope of unknown glory ; her return, a great
feeling of thankfulness ; she had seen some of the realities of life,
and they had not made her unmindful of home. Bess's journey
to fairy-land, as she called her English experience, had done
her no harm, for her first words were :

" O mummy ! I'm so glad to get back to you !"

And the caresses and sobs of happy reunion almost made our
heroine forget the presence of her travelling companion, until,
with a deferential bow to Mrs. Delpole, Higgins ventured to say:
" May I have my answer, Miss Bessie ?"

Our heroine looked up for a moment, bewildered, so com-
pletely had the joy of home-coming blotted out every other
thought ; then in a ringing voice Bess said : " It is good-by, Mr.
Higgins; good-by, good-by!" And our little girl turned away, so
the discomfited suitor should not see the grimace she was
making.

" Well, Bess, it's home, sweet home, after all !"

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 253

"Yes, uncle, and I'll be all the merrier for having left it
awhile." And that evening it was a merry party indeed that
sat around the doctor's tea-table.

Bess's experiences, when told in her comic way, seemed far
more sweet than bitter ; and all that had been sad in her Lon-
don life, looked at from the safeguard of home, appeared but
a trifling shadow a sombre-tinted background which threw out
in bolder relief the many happy hours.

Later on when our heroine lay tucked in bed, up in the tur-
ret chamber, and to the wide-awake maternal ear had made
certain little confidences before dropping asleep, Mrs. Delpole,
leaving a kiss not a feather's weight on the soft, warm cheek,
noiselessly slipped down-stairs for just another word of joy and
sympathy with her brother.

" O Francis !" she exclaimed, clasping her hands with the
delicious sensation of having regained a treasure, " how she has
improved ! You see, I did the right thing to let her go." And
the mother sighed in the very plenitude of bliss.

" Yes, Agnes, she has improved in a certain way ; she is
better-looking than when she left us. But Bess took something
away with her which she has not brought back." And the doc-
tor spoke with slow deliberation, almost regretfully : " Our Bess
is no longer a child !" And Dr. Champney, too, heaved a little
sigh as he knocked the ashes from his pipe.

" Bess is eighteen, and would not thank us to consider her a
child." And settling herself well back in her chair for a bout
of words with her brother, Mrs. Delpole awaited the onslaught.

"Well, I'll agree, Agnes, she is grown up more's the pity;
but we won't dispute the matter," calmly answered the doctor.

"I was going to remark," he continued, "that I wish you had
not read quite so much ' between the lines ' of that wonderful
letter. You were too sanguine, my dear sister, and our little
girl has been disappointed in consequence."

" Stop one moment, Dr. Champney, before you reproach me."
And the mother rose to her feet, to cast into the enemy's camp
the loaded shaft she had hugged to her bosom ever since enter-
ing the room, confident that where it struck it would carry all
before it. " In consequence of my sagacity, sir " and Agnes
gave weight to every word " Miss Delpole has had the oppor-
tunity of refusing one very eligible offer " Agnes's conscience
gave a blush of protest against the words of qualification " a
lawyer, in excellent standing. And what is more," she continued,
with a gesture suiting her words, " my daughter has but to

254 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

stretch forth her lily white hand to have it seized and bound
by the wedding-ring of a millionaire !"

" Heavens, Agnes ! what nonsense are you talking now ?"

" Well, brother, you wait and you will see." And Agnes
Delpole, secure of victory, swept from the room.

The doctor threw back his head with a loud laugh, and the
one word " Incorrigible !" which made his sister's ears tingle as
she mounted to her turret.

But in the stillness of her chamber, with her darling snug at
her side, Agnes, after a murmured prayer of gratitude, slept the
sleep of innocence and dreamed out her dream.

CHAPTER XVI.

Bessie had been home a month, and yet neither Mrs. Del-
pole nor she had tired of talking over her London experience.

The affectionate mother had written to Miss Rebecca Briggs
a letter of thanks for that good woman's kindness to her
daughter " my sweetest Bess " and had persuaded that young
lady to add a postscript, enclosing, besides a warm embrace for
Miss Briggs, a cold slice of regard for Mr. Hamen. After this
missive had been sealed and duly posted Mrs. Delpole always
adorned her foreign correspondence with her monogram in the
purest of red wax in a confidential after-tea talk she observed,
with an air of prophecy, to the doctor :

" Mark my words, Francis, something will come of this yet !"

" No doubt, no doubt, Agnes," answered Dr. Champney, pok-
ing the fire to hide a laugh ; " something is sure to turn up if
you say so. In some cases it's trumps, and sometimes it's trip-
lets, as with poor Sally Hopper."

" I consider that remark very indelicate and irrelevant,
Francis," said Mrs. Delpole.

" Not so out of the way, dear sister. I've been watching you
and Bess this past week, and have seen you metamorphose the
family old linen into baby clothes. You'll have a multiplication
of blessings from Sally and her triplets ; and as blessings are
trumps, with such a handful our bonny girl is bound to win."

Meanwhile, our bright little heroine had but one sorrow :
there was not room enough in the house wherein to hang up
her finery, and the Hamen " heir-looms " seemed condemned to
eternal repose for the want of an occasion to display them.

Mrs. Delpole, to be sure, had visions of a sudden outburst of

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 255

glory at the New York Charity Ball ; but then, like most visions,
they were up in the clouds, and Bess had sense enough not to
have her head turned by them. To amuse herself, however,
and to please her mother, she set her deft fingers the task of re-
fitting the robes of " the late lamented " to her own trim figure.

Never had Mrs. Delpole realized that dress-making could be a
labor of love, till she helped to adorn her daughter in the pur-
ple and fine linen of a millionaire. Restrained by her dignity as
a mother from lavishing compliments upon her darling, many a
time she would burst into the doctor's sanctum and force him
up-stairs for the satisfaction of seeing his eyes dance as they
rested on "the heiress."

" What do you think of her, Francis ?" the widow would say
eagerly "what do you think of her?"

" Splendid ! worthy of Portland Square ! " And Dr. Champney
would rush away for fear he should be tempted to pinch the
rosy cheek of his niece.

It goes without saying that all Brighton knew the number of
boxes that Miss Delpole had brought with her from England,
and Mrs. Vatts' maid had even gone so far as to bribe the doc-
tor's drudge for a peep at Miss Bessie's " things " ; a recital of
which, as she combed out Miss Vatts' hair, made that young
person's face grow green with envy.

" You had better tell their * slavey ' to strike for higher
wages, Marcelle ; I don't believe she gets enough to pay for
shoes. Didn't you tell me you caught her once barefoot ? "

" Yes, mees ; but then she was just putting on her stockings,"
Marcelle answered with a twinkle in her down-cast eyes.

" Of course ! She was ashamed you should catch her without
them." And Miss Minnie tossed her perfumed locks under the
nose of her sharp little French maid, who then and there deter-
mined in her own mind that her "demoiselle" was "vulgaire,"
and if " cette charmante Mees " Bessie should prove to be the
heiress of " la comtesse anglaise," Marcelle would like nothing
better than to engage in her service, and enjoy the perquisites
of so rich a wardrobe : " Ma foi ! le bleu me va, aussi ! "

At Christmas Bessie was surprised at receiving from London
a handsome box of water-colors, within which rested a card
bearing the compliments of the " late Mr. Brush."

This gift again elicited from Mrs. Delpole her prophetic :
" Mark my words, Francis ; mark my words ! "

Whereas Bessie merely ejaculated : " Silly man ! "

256 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

CHAPTER XVII.

It was the eve of the new year, and Miss Delpole was alone
in the drawing-room ; and, to tell the truth, she was standing
on a chair the better to contemplate herself, or rather her toilet,
in the mirror.

To say that her " get-up/' as the doctor expressed it, was
most becoming, is no flattery, and recalled to Mrs. Delpole's
memory that "dear Lydia always had good taste." The dress
was a superb combination of velvet and satin blue, of course
finished at the neck and arms with the whitest of swan's down.
Bessie fancied the costume particularly, as she had never seen
it on the person of " the Ogress."

" How she would have looked in these angel-sleeves ! " re-
marked the heiress, looking at the well-moulded lines of her own
arms.

At this moment Dr. Champney's voice was heard in the hall.
" This way, please ; you'll find her in there," in the cheery tones
with which he always greeted the advent of Eliza Stone, the
ever-welcome and only guest at his fireside.

Bessie stood where she was, awaiting with impatience her
godmother's cry of admiration. As no exclamation was forth-
coming, Bessie craned her pretty neck forward, and peered co-
quettishly into the mirror, saying with a pout, "Well?"

Her eyes met the reflected gaze, not of the school-mistress
but of a man.

" I beg a thousand pardons, Miss Delpole, for not having
had myself announced ; but Dr. Champney bade me enter, and
you must blame him for my intrusion."

A second Bess stood petrified, then descended from her ped-
estal in such haste that the long train of her dress lay resting
over the back of the chair as if caught up by some invisible
page.

She faced about and saw before her a tall, sallow-complex-
ioned man.

" Mr. Hamen ! " a stare.

" Miss Delpole ! "a bow.

There was a moment of suspense as Bessie stepped forward,
saying, " I will call my mother " ; then with a crash the chair
beneath her train struck the floor.

Bounding to the rescue, the Knight of the Palette deftly
raised the offending garment, and bore it courtier-fashion on his
arm as he escorted Miss Delpole from the room.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 257

Once outside the door, regardless of her trailing finery, Bes-
sie sped to the " turret chamber."

" Mummy, mummy, he's come ! " she cried, flinging herself
into Mrs. Delpole's arms.

This lady, a shawl over her shoulders for there was no heat
on the upper floor was at that moment casting up her accounts.
The widow of late had been running up quite a number of bills,
intending to settle her debts by the sale of some paltry piece
of jewelry.

"We must impress the trades-people," she argued to herself.
" Credit is the privilege of gentle-folks ! "

But with all her bravery she was not accustomed to owing
money, and as most bills fall due in January, Mrs. Delpole actu-
ally shivered with fright as her daughter, clinging to her, re-
peated :

" O mummy, O mummy ! he's come ! "

"What? who? The sheriff? Oh, dear! What will your
uncle say ? "

" It was uncle let him in," answered Bess, not heeding her
mother's words.

" He'll never forgive me ; let me run down and explain ! "
And the widow was hurrying off.

" Why, mother, you must change your frock. That style is
unbecoming and out of date. Quick ! let me help you."

" Style ! Much a green-grocer cares for style when he comes
with an unpaid bill."

" Green-grocer ! Why, mother, Mr. Hamen is a gentleman ! "

Mrs. Delpole at this name fell back into her seat, her arms
hanging limp at her sides. " Thank God ! What a relief ! "
groaning tragically. " Yes, Bess, rig me out in my war-paint ;
nothing like first impressions. So Mr. Hamen has come ! I'm
not surprised," said the widow, nervously adjusting her best and
only silk dress.

Although it seemed longer, Harry Hamen had been left
alone but a quarter of an hour amid the modest belongings of
the Delpoles when mother and daughter entered the room.

" Mr. Hamen, allow me to welcome most warmly the adopted
son of a very dear friend," said the widow, accentuating the ad-
jective.

The first impressions were mutually good, for as Mrs. Del-
pole advanced with both hands extended the artist received
them into his with a bow which brought his lips to a level with
that lady's finger-tips.
VOL. LIV. 17

258 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

" Quite aristocratic ! " was the widow's silent comment.

" She and Aunt Rebecca will get along like twins ! " remarked
Harry to himself.

The conversation wavered not a moment, for in her presence
Mrs. Delpole never allowed the intrusion of those awesome
periods wherein the company is presumably listening to angelic
whispers.

At length Dr. Champney entered with a hearty invitation for
the artist to stay to dinner. Mr. Hamen declined, however, as
he could not leave Miss Briggs alone at the hotel in New York,
and rose to depart.

" But," he -added, " I should like very well to present my
New Year's compliments to-morrow ; and, if Mrs. Delpole has
no objection, I should be delighted to escort Miss Delpole
across the bay. My aunt has bade me ask her to come, as the.
rough sea-trip has quite incapacitated the dear old soul, and the
thought even of a ferry-boat upsets her nerves. You will come,
Miss Bessie, shall you not ? "

" Certainly, certainly ! " answered that young lady's parent ;
"and later Dr. Champney and I will do ourselves the honor of
calling on Miss Briggs."

As the door closed behind Harry the setting sun went down,
and the curtain was drawn on the most eventful year in Bessie
Delpole's life.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The frosty smiles of the first of January, 1890, were wel-
comed by the beaming countenance of our heroine, as she gazed
out of the window into the brightness beyond.

She felt an undefined exuberance, none the less so for having
assisted at Mass ; she had a longing for wings, which fact il
was, no doubt, that lent to her voice the sweetness of a seraph,
and caused Dr. Champney to exclaim as she entered the break-
fast-room :

" You are starting the New Year well, little bird ; I ho]
every month will be as full of song for us all ! "

Towards midday the artist appeared, laden not alone witl
compliments, but with a hamper of delicacies as well, a present
sent especially to Mrs. Delpole by Miss Briggs, and accompaniec
by a note from that lady requesting that Bessie be allowed t<
spend the day with her in New York.

The widow was as flushed and happy as a girl, and whei

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 259

the young couple got beyond her vision she could not resist
embracing the good doctor, at the same time remarking :

" I almost feel as if I could marry again myself ! "

" Dear me, Agnes ! what premature notions you have to be
sure," said Dr. Champney, releasing himself from the clinging
arms of the widow. " Because a young fellow travelling around
the world has happened to call on us, your silly head must go
romancing about a wedding ! Don't put notions into Bessie's
head, please."

" You never would listen to reason, Francis ; and have all
along tried to extinguish my just ambition for my daughter.
But, thank God ! I have had my own way, with the result that
Bessie Delpole, if she never wears a coronet, will revel at least
in the wealth of the Indies ! "

" You'll make her out Queen Victoria next ! I'm afraid your
brain is weakening, Agnes." And the doctor sighed and laughed
by turns.

"Well, read that!" retorted his sister, " and acknowledge I
am right."

Mrs. Delpole put into the doctor's hands the note Miss
Briggs had written ; it ended with these words :

" I hope the proposal my grand-nephew is about to make
to your daughter will meet with your approval ; I need not say
that my own best wishes will be fulfilled when I see them
man and wife."

" That certainly is very explicit." answered Dr. Champney,
returning the paper. " I trust the young man is all you wish
him to be. The only good point I see is, that he is willing to
mate with poverty. In our money-grasping times this does him
great credit, very great credit."

CHAPTER XIX.

Meanwhile the young people about whom this ado was being
made were composedly pacing the deck of the Staten Island
ferry-boat.

" You evidently don't dislike the sea, Miss Delpole ; you have
the quick, firm step of a born sailor," Harry remarked, the sup-
port of his arm having just been refused.

" Oh, yes ! I like the sea. I believe I like everything that is
nice and new and pleasant," answered Bess, twirling her muff and
feeling very happy.

260 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

"Well, well! I never heard 'Old Briny' complimented in
that way before. We are taught that the ocean is as old as the
hills indeed older; and I don't call it nice or pleasant to be
seasick, do you?" And Harry bent down to admire the height-
ened color on Bessie's cheek.

" It is not necessary to be seasick ; it's all a matter of nerves
and imagination ; uncle told me so. And the ocean is nice and
beautiful ; and," Miss Delpole added on seeing a smirk on Har-
ry's lips, "I'd just loath a man that was seasick!"

" Oh, oh ! Miss Delpole, don't say that ; you make me trem-
ble for my sex, so many of us pay tribute to Neptune. Some
of these days you will have lots of suitors, and to be true to
your principles you will be obliged to warn them. * Mr. So-and-
So,' you will say, ' before you propose, tell me truly, are you
ever seasick ? ' This will be, of course, when you're older, when
you are grown up."

" Mr. Hamen, you are quite vexing," Bessie answered ; " I
told you in England that I am quite grown up."

" Which means you are all ready to be proposed to ? " que-
ried Harry, laughing.

" I did not say that," retorted Bessie, stamping her foot ;
"you persistently misconstrue my words, Mr. Hamen."

" Then I am very sorry indeed, for I was on the point of
proposing," said her companion with mock gravity ; " but now I
shall be in danger of misconstruing your answer. If you whis-
per ' Yes,' I might think you meant * No ' ; and if you stamp
your foot and say ' No ! ' why, I could fancy, I could hope you
had intended it as ' Yes ' ! "

Bessie laughed in spite of some annoyance. "Well," she said,
" you have no time for any more teasing ; here we are in New
York and must hurry to catch the ' L.' "

There was not much talking done in the train, and in twen-
ty minutes time our friends found themselves at the " Nor-
mandie."

Miss Briggs, as might be expected, welcomed the two with
equal warmth, for she was more than partial to Harry, and much
interested in " the heiress."

The maid, in whom Bessie recognized her London friend
Dobbs, was called to free the young lady of her wraps and
make her comfortable for the day. And a very jolly, delightful
day it was for them all.

Miss Briggs had prepared a number of pleasant surprises to
amuse her guest, and Harry exerted his powers to the utmost

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 261

in personifying certain great men of the past and present from
" the Father of his Country " to the immortal Gladstone.

His audience thought it all very funny, and Bess quite agreed
with the doating old maid that no one was so clever as the
artist.

As dinner was being announced Miss Briggs was surprised at
receiving a note which, as characteristic of its writer and of
deep interest to the young people, is here transcribed :

" MY DEAR MlSS BRIGGS : Thinking you would like to know
as soon as possible my opinion as regards the proposal of Mr.
Hamen for the hand of my daughter, I can truly say that, al-
though we have seen very little of the gentleman, both Dr.
Champney and myself [a slight fib, as the doctor had been un-
consulted in the case] are impressed in his favor ; and if our
treasure, my beloved Bessie, should see fit to accept Mr. Hamen,
you can assure her of her mother's blessing. Believe me, my
dear Miss Briggs, very sincerely

"Your friend,

" AGNES DELPOLE."

This highly important missive kind-hearted Rebecca slipped
into her nephew's pocket, as Bess was donning her things to
return home.

" There, Harry boy," the good lady said, " this is the ace of
hearts ; you can trump the queen with it, and win ! Good luck
to you ! Knock at my door on your return, as I shall not sleep
until I hear of your happiness."

And Rebecca Briggs's wabbly old head pressed itself against
the cheek of her darling. Then seizing in her arms the muffled
figure of Bessie, she kissed her again and again, saying between
each embrace :

" You dearest, dearest child ! I wish I had you always !
There now, be off ! Very kind regards to your mamma, whom
I hope soon to meet. Come, Dobbs, keep close to Miss Delpole."

And away went Harry and Bess down the lift, and up into
the " L " train, and on to the ferry, where, whilst the stars of
heaven twinkled at them, and the sheen of a thousand lights lay
on the rippling waters, these two were to solve the riddle of
love.

Oh, happy pair ! Harry all conscious of the impending, and
little Bess in a quiver of excitement she knew not at what.

Brought up both of them in the narrow circle of poverty,
their hearts had never wandered out of their keeping ; and if
the dreams of youth had flitted through their brains, never till

262 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

Harry spoke the word and Bess had given her answer did
either of them realize that life's young beginnings centred in
God's own Paradise, the garden of true love.

Harry offered himself in a very unconventional way, and in
like manner Bess replied. Their short courtship had an indi-
viduality about it which might have startled Mrs. Grundy and
her society patterns.

" Bessie ! " said Harry ; and strange to say, Bessie did not
feel surprised to hear the artist call her by name, although her
blue eyes opened wider, and the " man in the moon " saw her
blush " Bessie ! I have not yet given you my New Year's gift.
It is a very little thing, but 'tis what I value most on earth. If
you accept it, you must take with it my good-for-nothing self !
Will you take it, Bess?"

And Harry held out to his companion an object so tiny
that Bessie, unable to see it, said :

"What is it, Harry?"

" My mother's wedding-ring ! I have worn it about my neck
ever since she died."

And then little Bess put her arm about Harry and whis-
pered: " Oh, you poor dear! You poor dear!"

Thus they solved the riddle between them, while the stars
rolled their twinkling orbs and the moon hid its face in a cloud.

CHAPTER XX.

Mrs. Delpole sat in the drawing-room, her hands in her lap
and eyes closed, busy with her thoughts. Yes, think, think over
the past. Of the day she wedded Roger ah, poor Roger !
They were happy together for a time, and the happy, happy
day when Bess lay in her arms, and heaven seemed so very near!

" O my pride ! my darling ! " whispered Agnes, half aloud.
" Your happiness shall not be wrecked as mine was ! God is
good ; and my sorrows will bring you joy, for God is good."

She was repeating the last words again and again, when a
peal at the bell startled her to her feet. Well she knew who
stood without, for already the laughing whispers caught her ear;
and Agnes Delpole's heart gave a great bound of gladness.
" God is good," she said, as she drew the bolt.

"O mamma, mamma! I am so happy!" And Bessie clung
about her mother's neck, and received her mother's devouring
kisses, as if their parting had lasted years, and not hours.

1891.] THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. 263

Harry Hamen possessed himself of the widow's hand, and,
raising it to his lips, said in a half-comic way : " May I too say,
' Mamma, mamma ! I am so happy ? ' '

Then Mrs. Delpole released her daughter, and, turning to the
artist : " Sir !" she said, and there was a ring of tragedy in her
voice, " my child's happiness has been my life's prayer. If you
can make her happy, my blessing will follow you follow you
long after I am gone." And then a few tears were shed happy
tears that do not burn.

The artist then bade good-by, first kissing his dead mother's
ring on Bessie's hand, and then the sweet, living lips. "You'll
not have to sell the heir-looms after all, Bess !" And Harry's
black eyes sparkled.

" You may take back your rusty old heir-looms, Mr. Hamen,"
said his lady-love saucily; "such archaic things are not the
style in America !"

" To be sure ! I forgot you like everything nice and new,
and"

But Bess closed the door sharply, and the last good-bys were
spoken with the panel between them.

An hour after her darling slept Mrs. Delpole still sat watch-
ing for Dr. Champney's return from a night-call. At length his
latch-key was heard, and with noiseless tread the widow ran
down to meet him.

" What's the matter, Agnes ? Is Bessie ill that you are still
up?"

" No, Francis, but I could not rest without telling you the
news. The new year has brought us luck : Bessie is engaged to
be married."

" My word ! but you do things hastily !" said the doctor with
a frown. " I hope it will not be, repent at leisure."

" You are cruel, Francis !" his sister replied, with tears in her
voice.

" I did not mean to be, Agnes dear."

" Well, then, congratulate me. Bessie will have wealth and
happiness, and I can end my life in peace."

"Amen!" answered her brother.

Although Mrs. Delpole would have preferred a grand wed-
ding at the Cathedral, Dr. Champney had his way, and Harry
and Bess were quietly married in the little church on Staten Is-
land, and were blessed and declared man and wife by its vener-
able pastor.

264 THE FORTUNES OF A POOR YOUNG MAID. [Nov.,

The guests were few, but the crowd was great. Minnie Vatts
was there, .of course ; and as the bride and groom came down
the aisle she remarked in a loud whisper to her neighbor. " I
don't think much of her Indian prince, do you ? He looks as
if he had been washed in coffee. Give me an American that
knows how to grind dollars."

" Ah ! is she jealous, cette brasseuse ?" said the French maid
to Dr. Champney's servant : " I tink your mees charming. She
did give you some old frock, hein?"

" More than that," answered the ' slavey,' wiping her moist
eyes ; " her young gentleman bought the cottage my old mother
lives in, and made me a gift of it."

" I shouldn't be surprised if Dr. Champney married now him-
self," remarked the green-grocer in another corner of the
church. " They do say as he and Miss Stone were as good as
engaged before his hair was gray."

" Well, an' it's a blessing I wish them both," returned old
Charlton, the florist.

" And a second husband for Mistress Delpole, so she shouldn't
be lonely," added a third party.

Mr. and Mrs. Hamen had departed amid echoed blessings,
and Miss Briggs had been escorted back to the hotel by Mr.
Higgins, who forsooth had performed the part of best man at
the ceremony. In the doctor's dining-room, contemplating the
sad debris of the wedding-feast, were Mrs. Delpole, her brother,
and Miss Stone.

" Agnes, dear, I wish you joy of our Bessie's success," said
the schoolmistress, tenderly kissing her friend.

" May her happiness be a lasting one !" added Dr. Champney.

" And may I never regret the extravagance in postage which
brought about this marriage," said Agnes Delpole with an hys-
terical laugh, as she sank down upon the identical sofa which
had received her fainting form that fateful morning whereon
Lydia Hamen's misconstrued letter had arrived.

" Well," said the doctor grimly, " whatever happens, Agnes,
you will certainly have earned the great and always coveted
satisfaction of being able to say : ' I told you so !' '

STANISLAUS MONK.

1891.] THE REINDEER AGE IN FRANCE. 265

THE REINDEER AGE IN FRANCE.

How far back we can trace man's first appearance on earth
is a disputed question among scientists. A high authority, Pro-
fessor de Quatrefages, in his address before the eighth meeting
of Americanists, says : " I consider the existence of Tertiary
man to be demonstrated." And he is not alone in this opinion.
Nevertheless, we prefer to stand on perfectly safe ground, on
ground about which there is no dispute, and to place the first
appearance of man not earlier than the Quaternary or Post-plio-
cene epoch. Toward the close of the preceding age the Plio-
cene a marked change had come over the northern hemisphere :
in Europe England became definitely separated from the Conti-
nent ; Denmark was divided from Sweden by an arm of the
sea ; while the two land-bridges across the Mediterranean one
by way of Sicily and another at Gibraltar disappeared. At the
same time the humid atmosphere grew somewhat colder, a hazy
mantle veiled the rays of the sun : the great geological winter
was approaching. This is supposed to have been brought about
by astronomical causes combined with a changed distribution of
land and water. But while the conditions were favorable to
glaciation, the better opinion is that the Ice age was not a
period of excessive cold. Debierre, in L'homme avant f Historic,
says : " It is probable that the glacial periods coincided, not with
a period of excessive cold but with a foggy atmosphere, a soft
and humid temperature, hardly more than from four to five
degrees lower than to-day."

These conditions were prolonged into the succeeding post-
pliocene or quaternary epoch, between which and the pliocene
the division made by geologists is a purely conventional one.
The same immense glacier spread in the shape of a fan from
Scandinavia as far south as Lyons, while from the Pyrenees
smaller glaciers spread towards the north, and the one which
rose at Gavarnie and passed over Lourdes has been traced for a
distance of thirty-nine miles. But if the ice age was a generally
dismal epoch, it was happily broken by what are termed inter-
glacial periods ; and these taken together form what is known
among French scientists as the Reindeer age. The reindeer then
roamed down to the Pyrenees, and, judging by its fossil remains,
it must have been very abundant. Along with the reindeer we

266 THE REINDEER AGE IN FRANCE. [Nov.,

find the mammoth, the aurochs, the horse, the cave-bear, and a
species of woolly rhinoceros.

But it is the fact that man lived in the reindeer age that
makes it so interesting to us. Cartailhac, in La France prc'his-
torique, says : " The reindeer age is the artistic period par ex-
cellence of all prehistoric times. . . . For the first time
man draws, engraves, carves, represents the living creatures
which surround him with a sense of beauty that is astonishing,
nor does he forget his own image."

The first person in France to call attention to figures
scratched on fossil bones was Desnoyers. As long ago as 1863
he observed them on the remains of Elephas meridionalis in the
neighborhood of Chartres ; and near by were a number of flint
spear-heads, also the remains of the hippopotamus. This dis-
covery, which was made known to the Academy of Sciences on
the 8th of June of . that year, produced a great sensation; and
De Quatrefages, after examining the bones so interestingly
marked, declared it not improbable that they belonged to an
even earlier period than the quaternary, from the fact that near
the remains of the elephant were remains of the hippopotamus,
an animal belonging in Europe to the pliocene.

In the following year, 1864, Edouard Lartet discovered in the
department of the Dordogne the first representation of a mam-
moth : it is engraved on a piece of mammoth tusk, and the long
hair, which is boldly traced, shows that it is indeed the extinct
species Elephas primigenus. Shortly afterwards the Marquis de
Vibraye found in the same part of France a piece of reindeer's
horn on which is scratched the head of a mammoth. At about
the same time Peccadean de ITsle unearthed in the cave of
Montastuc a piece of ivory on which is represented a reindeer,
and among all the prehistoric engravings which we have seen
this is the most beautifully done. In the grotto of the Made-
leine a reindeer bone was found on which the same animal is rep-
resented ; also a pebble with the figure of a mammoth scratched
on it. At Mos d'Azil, in the Dordogne, M. Piette discovered
the head of a reindeer not engraved but carved in reindeer
bone ; it is about five inches long, and shows surprising ability
on the part of the workman. At Rochebertier a reindeer bone
was found with a human head engraved on it. At Aurenson,
department of the Hautes Pyrenees, another reindeer bone was
discovered with the head of a buck goat inscribed on it. In the
Dordogne the Marquis de Vibraye found a bit of ivory on
which is engraved the figure of a woman ; but the head and

1891.] THE REINDEER AGE IN FRANCE. 267

arms are wanting and the feet are partly obliterated. This is
now in his collection. Again, on another piece of reindeer bone
we see represented the figure of a man. He is in the act of
throwing a spear at an aurochs, which is fleeing with head bent
low and tail high in the air. This engraving is correctly, even
elegantly done. The horse is also found scratched on reindeer
bones.

Let us say that in the caves where these fossil remains were
unearthed there were also many rude stone hatchets and spear-
heads, as well as needles made from the bones of birds. But
there was no pottery ; and the absence of pottery is characteris-
tic of the paleolithic, or old stone, age, to distinguish it from the
neolithic, or new stone, age, when pottery is met with and when
the hatchets, spear-heads, etc., are of polished stone. Naturalists
are somewhat uncertain whether the dog lived in the reindeer
age, and until lately the better opinion was that Cants familiaris
had not yet become man's companion. There is no doubt, how-
ever, that the horse abounded during the interglacial periods,
and it is believed that the animal served for food. In the de-
partment of the Saone-et-Loire there was discovered, in 1868, an
extensive agglomeration of horses' bones, and it has been calcu-
lated that these fossil bones represent no less than one hundred
thousand horses. The bones had all been broken to extract
the marrow, and the vertebrae had been pierced by flint arrows.
A good account of this discovery may be found in UAntkropolo-
gie for May and June, 1890, under the title " Les nouvelles
fouilles de Solutre." The writer, Adrien Arcelin, says: u Besides
the horse, we gathered accidentally, in the heaps under consid-
eration, scattered bones of the reindeer, the cave-bear, the au-
rochs, and the elephant. Nor are chipped flints rare in these
heaps. . . . We repeat, the heaps of horses' bones present
all the appearance of being kitchen refuse composed almost ex-
clusively of horse."

The fossiliferous caverns of France are mostly in a Jurassic
or cretaceous formation, and as they commonly face to the south
and are near some river, they must have been warm in winter
and cool in the hot interglacial summers. Nor are we bound to
believe that man of the reindeer age was a wretched nomad in
a state akin to the modern Patagonian. To quote again Emile
Cartailhac, in La France prdhistorique : " In the age of which
we are speaking game was, no doubt, more plentiful than in any
other, and it was not necessary to go far in order to procure it.
The streams were full of fish, life was easy to support. These

268 THE REINDEER AGE IN FRANCE. [Nov.,

conditions are not generally found in countries where we have
looked for examples of primitive civilization. We believe we
should expose ourselves to grave errors if we compared our an-
cestors of those times with the miserable tribes which live to-day
in the rudest climates and most desolate latitudes." Nor does it
follow that because man then dwelt in caves that he had no other
dwelling-places. He may have had wooden abodes, but these
must long since have disappeared. He may also have carved in
wood, but this perishable substance would hardly have been pre-
served to our day. We cannot measure in years the distance
which separates the present from the early quaternary epoch.
Remember, we are speaking of a time compared with which the
civilization of ancient Egypt is modern. Professor Perrot, in the
introduction to his Histoire de VArt, says of this far-off period :
" Of these far-off ages the memory of humanity had not even
kept a vague remembrance. Here we see them open and deepen
under this ray which pierces their surrounding darkness.
There can be no question here of chronology. But when we
fathom the sand of the diluvian beds of Abbeville or the soil
which forms the ground-bed of the caves of the Perigord ; when
we light on the first chipped flints or on those fragments of
reindeer's horn, of bone and of ivory which have perhaps pre-
served for us the first attempts made by man to trace the pro-
file of living creatures, how far removed we feel ourselves to be
from the most ancient times of which some trace has been kept
by tradition, and especially from the centuries when the first
dawn of history begins to break ! "

It is the opinion of De Mortillet, an authority on the subject,
that these carvings and engravings on bone were made with a
flint instrument ; such flint tools having been found in the same
spot with the fossil bones, and they resemble not a little our
modern engraving tools.

The oldest caves which show traces of having been inhabited
by man are the cave of Chelles, in the department of the
Seine-et-Marne ; the cave of Moustier, in the department of the
Dordogne ; that of the Madeleine, in the same department, and
the cave of Solutre, in the department of the Saone-et-Loire.
But other and smaller caves have been discovered which are
scarcely less interesting. Professor Bergounoux, in a recent
work, Les Temps pre"historiques en Quercy (department of the
Lot), describes several of these. In the grotto of Conal he found
remains of the reindeer and the horse, a good many bone
needles, as well as several teeth of carnivora which were pierced

1891.] THE REINDEER AGE IN FRANCE. 269

with a hole, and had no doubt served as a necklace for some
prehistoric maiden. But the most interesting discovery he made
were some fossil bones, which Professor Noulet, director of the
Museum of Natural History at Toulouse, declared to be the
bones of a very little dog. If the learned professor is not mis-
taken, then Canis familiaris did live in the reindeer age. An-
other hole in the rock which Professor Bergounoux explored is
called the " Abri des Cambous." This place of refuge, which is
only six feet deep and nine feet high, is situated at the base of
a cliff near the river Cele, from which it is separated by a mea-
dow. But Bergounoux says it may well have been made larger
artificially, perhaps by a sort of hood formed of skins projected
over the opening. But small as it is it proved a rich mine, for
a whole bagful of weapons and tools of the reindeer age were
found in it. Perhaps the most curious thing unearthed was a
piece of bone six inches long, and fashioned like a paper-cutter,
but with a somewhat concave blade and Bergounoux thinks it
may have served for a spoon.

The discovery of so many stone hatchets and arrow-heads,
bone needles, engraving tools, etc., in the caves of central and
southern France may make us ask why these seemingly safe re-
treats were abandoned. If the inhabitants moved elsewhere, why
did they not take these useful things with them ? In reply we
quote Professor Bergounoux, who believes that they fled hurried-
ly in order to save their lives: "This allows us to believe that
the cave-men of Conal and of Cambons must have belonged to
the, end of the quaternary epoch. The event whose effects we
see in the supposed sudden abandonment of the caves was no
doubt the melting of the ice."

In the caves of France human remains have very seldom been
found. Of this Cartailhac, in La France prehistorique, says : " We
are brought to believe that the paleolithic tribes only excep-
tionally placed the bones of their dead in caves or in places of
refuge under rock ; these remains must have mostly been left in
the open air, either on the rocks or hung in the trees or other-
wise, in conditions which did not allow them to last until our
time. Our European ancestors of the age of chipped stone are
thus linked by an essential trait of manners to a large portion
of the primitive races of the other continents."

As we have said, many bone needles are found in the caves,
and we may wonder what man used in place of thread during
the reindeer age. Here we again quote Debierre in Ukomtne
avant FHistoire. He says : " Like the Esquimaux of the Arctic

270 THE REINDEER AGE IN FRANCE. [Nov.,

regions to-day, he probably made use of the tendons to take the
place of thread, for on many long bones we may observe super-
ficial erosions which show with what care these tendons were
taken off."

Some scientists maintain that a wide gap exists between man
of the interglacial periods and the race now inhabiting France.
They believe that when the great glaciers melted and the climate
became dryer and colder, man either perished with the mam-
moth or followed the reindeer to the far north, where he is at
present represented by the Laplanders and Esquimaux. The
better opinion is, however, that no such a gap exists ; that the
same race which lived through the ice age continues, after many
vicissitudes, to inhabit the same region to-day.

The end of the quaternary epoch, which marks the disappear-
ance of the reindeer in France, marks the beginning of the neo-
lithic, or new stone, age, when implements and weapons were
made of polished stone and when pottery is first met with.

We have found the study of the fossiliferous caverns of
France very interesting. When man scratched the portraits of
the mammoth and reindeer, as well as his own portrait, on the
fossil bones which we have seen and described, the landscape of
France was not what it is at present. The mountain of ice
known as the Glacier of the Rhone towered eighteen hundred
feet above Lake Neuchatel and extended south as far as Lyons,
while from the Pyrenees smaller glaciers spread northward. In
central France the sky was lurid with the smoke and flame of
active volcanoes, and sheets of lava swept over what are now fer-
tile vineyards ; of these volcanoes nothing is left except shattered
craters and mineral springs. The river Seine where Paris stands
was then four and a half miles broad, and in the open spaces
between the extensive forests were seen the wild horse, the au-
rochs, the woolly rhinoceros, the reindeer, and the mammoth.
Grand game indeed for the caveman to hunt ! Let us be thank-
ful that he left behind him, hidden in the cave earth, a few
memorials to tell us that he lived, and was something of an
artist, too, in the Reindeer age.

WILLIAM SETON.

1891.] A CONVERT'S STORY. 271

A CONVERT'S STORY.

CONVERSION, which itself should be the beginning of a new
life, mostly is bound up with other and earlier beginnings that
may be omissions no less than commissions. These often are
more important than they seem, and any fair statement of actual
conversion in the present instance must go back to include years
in which baptism was neglected.

The omission was due to Quaker parentage, and the clergy-
man who at last, a few months before my wedding-day, offi-
ciated at the font, had already ministered in the same way to
some young friends who claimed to have thereby entered his
Episcopalian fold and influenced me to follow their example.
Seeking the teaching as to baptism, for the first time in my life
I read the Bible in any other than a perfunctory way. Never
before had I knelt to pray, or learned to say a prayer, not even
our Lord's Prayer.

A practice, however, which I distinctly remember, and which
my mother has since told me began when I was scarcely more
than three years old, was that of daily reading aloud, usually to
both parents, a chapter from the New Testament. The sacred
text was unaccompanied by explanation, and it was one of the
confusions of my youthful mind that the holy John who lived in
the wilderness was the same with that other blessed John whom
Jesus loved ; while those things which the Apostle saw and which
belonged to a higher range of perception the angelic choirs, the
great white throne, the sea of glass were ever mentally repro-
ducing themselves according to my childish imaginings of them,
and various saintly characters supposably came and went at my
bidding amid the celestial imagery in which the city that lieth
four square is presented to us in the apocalyptic vision.

It was to be expected that to one utterly ignorant of every
kind of legendary lore the heavenly country would in this way
be much the same as fairyland to other children, or rather it
might be far more ; it was, in fact, the one resource for beguil-
ing certain hours which until I was ten years old were regularly
spent in midweek, as on Sundays, in the Friends' gatherings for
worship, an offering that often consisted of unbroken silence.
How truly, then, was parental guidance into the fields of Holy

272 A CONVERT'S STORY. [Nov.,

Scripture a Providential ordering for the little one thus obliged
to sit through the meetings which, in spite of Heaven's kindly aid
to her, proved sometimes a painful discipline !

An only child, whose life, albeit in a large city, was one of
singular seclusion, and whose study and leisure alike were so
guarded as to exclude the few books which up to that time had
been written for children, might well be inclined to seek com-
panionship of her father's favorite authors. To suit my small
stature the volume selected not unfrequently would be rested on
my father's knee, and it was quite literally sitting at his feet
that I learned to love the thoughtful reading which was a shield
against many of youth's temptations. At the same time it
caused much of childhood to pass in blissful unconsciousness of
missing childish pleasures. Also, it has been instrumental in
making me a Catholic.

Events and circumstances which at the time would have been
interpreted as indicating almost any other goal than the church
are easy of recognition now as making part of a Providential
plan of preparation for the special grace of conversion many
years later. Doubtless it was only one of many heaven-sent
leadings into the true fold when, ere the end of my eighth year,
I drew from a shelf in my father's library an old Catholic biog-
raphy. Verily red-letter days were they which owed their spe-
cial brightness to that outwardly unattractive volume, and now,
after more than forty years have come and gone, are vividly
before me. Notwithstanding the writer's rather solemn way of
telling the story of a life, no romance could have proved more
fascinating to me than the time-yellowed pages, which truly were
a treasure trove since they brought what appears to have been
my first conscious drawing to Holy Church.

This quaintly-worded biography most of all impressed me in
its setting forth a personal attachment to our Divine Lord, and
the fact that there is a union with him which in a special way
is the privilege of religious. But the existence of nuns and what
I now gleaned of their religion alike was a revelation to me, and
it was with bated breath that I expressed to my mother the dis-
covery, " they have our Saviour for their husband " ; eliciting the
remark, as she probably divined what was passing in her child's
mind, that in my case at least it could not be right to look for-
ward to entering upon such a life, because Friends, with whom I
felt myself unalterably connected, do not approve of devoting
one's self to God in that way.

1891.] A CONVERT'S STORY. 273

It was the less hard to accept the Society's judgment in this
matter since my mother's cap and 'kerchief and gown were as
little conformed to the world's fashions as any which she de-
scribed as worn by Sisters of Charity, and in soothing words she
confessed to feeling it was also her duty to serve our Divine
Lord in his sick and suffering members. Not long afterward I
saw a nun for the first time, and thenceforth to be seated by
one of them in travelling filled me with happiness much as if
they had been angels, and when the black-robed figures passed
me on thoroughfares if possible I followed them, with the ardent
desire, destined to remain long ungratified, that I might hear the
voice of one speaking.

What my mother said about Quakers devoting themselves to
the alleviation of human suffering came home to me forcibly, for
she was herself an ever-welcome visitor to prisoners, gently con-
soling them in their confinement ; and often she took me for
companion in various ministrations to the poor, or allowed me
to fancy that with thimble and needle I was aiding her continued
efforts on behalf of slaves, at that time here and there escaping
from their masters in the South.

Those were the days of the underground railway, and some
others as well as Friends are living who will remember how it
was signaled from one watcher to another, stationed in readiness
at different cities along the route, that a box of freight might be
expected. Happy indeed was my mother when our city was the
chosen terminus, that so, laying all else aside, she might make
garments for the poor creatures, sure to be nearly nude on ar-
rival here. Sewing-machines had not been invented, and as help
must be given secretly for fear of some governmental arrest, the
privileged few who might accept the risk of preparing for a con-
signment of runaway slaves were obliged to ply the needle into
the wee small hours of two or three consecutive nights.

But what, it may well be asked, are any charitable deeds;
what an unquestioning obedience to parents, and a cheerful sub-
mission to the dicta of certain persons who among Friends are
appointed to the charge of whatever appertains to the doctrines
or discipline of their Society ; what the quiet of the soul and
that listening to the still small voice which constitute an essen-
tial part of the Quaker regime, what are all these if not so
many notes of Holy Church, rays from the light that is within
her, stirrings which come of her own blessed activities, thrills of
her own adoring silence at Emmanuel's feet ? So it is that
VOL. LIV. 18

274 A CONVERT'S STORY. [Nov.,

many who have endeavored to be faithful to so much Catholic
doctrine as may be found in one or another of the sects have
thereby come to know the embrace of our tender Mother, ever
waiting to be gracious though for a lifetime we have been es-
tranged from her.

The first twenty years after my Anglican baptism most of
them were spent in a country home where no note of Catholi-
city reached me, and my knowledge of doctrines was confined to
those which are held by the Low-Church party. Once during
these years, however, there was something like touching a chord
of long ago, the revival of a sweet but almost forgotten strain,
when in a town library under care of Friends I took up a short
biography of a religious. After reading the little book I could
not resist saying that nevermore would the life I was then liv-
ing satisfy me, yet knew not how nor wherein it should be made
different.

At. last a change of residence into a suburban parish enabled
me to witness for the first time ritual and devotions which in a
measure were those of the Anglicans, and I began to read their
teachings. Tract Ninety was the means of my getting a hold on
Catholic doctrine which charmed me into seeking all that came
from the author of it, the while I made his thoughts my very
own. The works of Dr. Pusey and some other Anglicans came
in turn, and together with Cardinal (then Dr.) Newman's and
the Imitation, which at once took the deepest hold of all upon
my heart, they for years absorbed me to the exclusion of every
other kind of reading. One book recounted St. Teresa's dream
of an angel bearing a torch and a pitcher of water, and how
the saint was told the one was to burn up heaven, the other to
drown hell, that so man would serve God neither from fear of
punishment nor hope of reward, but solely for love of Him.

The next thing, of course, was to get a Life of St. Teresa,
and although I could command only one of those Anglican
translations which leave out as " corrupt " so much that is help-
ful, it brought to me a great attraction to the saint, so that lov-
ing her I loved also the Mother of Saints. From this first read-
ing of any of the saints' lives dates what in my own life, I hum-
bly trust, was conversion. So, too, it may have been a conse-
quence of taking the faithful Carmelite for my inspiration, that
at once I began to invoke St. Joseph's aid, to place myself
before the Mother of God as a child seeking a mother's care
and protection, and to resolve to believe and to do all that I

1891.] A CONVERT'S STORY. 275

might learn is enjoined by Holy Church upon her children. How
much I owe to the intercession of St. Teresa in my behalf may
be among the sweet surprises of the world to come. In my
case as in so many others, however, was repeated the old story
of Jacob's being deceived into taking Leah for Rachel, and re-
ception into the Holy Catholic Church was not until nearly
seven years afterward.

Anglican writers, pleading universal need of the sacrament of
penance and then explaining their prayer-book as containing pro-
vision for its use, convinced me that it was my duty to seek a
priest, and an unquestioning faith in the Anglican confessors
never for one moment wavered through all my years of
Anglicanism.

It was rather earlier that I began to have the comfort of
believing in our Lord's Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament
as defined in Catholic catechisms. A Catholic could not have
more implicit faith in it than while yet -an Anglican I had from the
very first of learning the doctrine ; and that which kneeling I re-
ceived in the Anglican churches I then believed was verily and in-
deed the Sacred Host. Never in those days did this faith desert me
or become less, but after returning once more to the city of my
birth rather grew stronger during the five years of those daily
receptions that immediately preceded my becoming a Catholic.

In the parish where I was then established, a large and in-
fluential one, the instructions were to receive fasting, and
sometimes to be present and so " assist at the sacrifice " without
receiving. Often there was a "requiem mass," and now again
some explanatory teaching. Thus I long accepted all the dog-
matic teachings of the church except the fundamental one of
the Papacy, rarely alluded to in the Episcopalian pulpits, but
shown by histories and other books which are circulated among
the people as a mediaeval development which, having been re-
jected by England, is not binding upon Americans.

Some 'were soft-blowing breezes, which gently detained me
long anchored on alien shores. After a retreat made with the
associates of an Anglican sisterhood at the convent, I became
one of their band. The practices enjoined upon me were not ob-
ligatory ; but consisting chiefly of a daily saying of the Magnificat,
together with meditation and portions of the Psalms arranged
for recitation at each of the Seven Hours, and perhaps of some
charitable works under care of the sisters, time was so happily
filled as to prevent the mind from dwelling upon thoughts of

276 A CONVERT 's STORY. [Nov.,

the many beautiful Catholic devotions of which we were de-
prived.

Keen and sharp, however, were the actually propelling winds,
steadily carrying me, though 1 knew it not, by devious ways into the
safe harbor where at last, quite suddenly it seemed, I found myself.
Authority is so held in abeyance among Anglicans, that not until
the subject was put before me by Catholics did I know there
was really any question regarding it. These friends, who were
the first Catholics I had ever met socially, made various claims
which caused me secret uneasiness. Confessing my inability to
answer their questions was by no means saying they were unan-
swerable. Telling no one of the trouble, I went confidently
to my confessor and, announcing the mere fact that some diffi-
culties, Roman versus Anglican, had been suggested to me which
I did not know how to dispose of, but had no doubt that he
could vanquish, asked permission to state them to him.

Positively refusing to hear any such statement, my confessor
said that during his dozen years in the ministry there had been
little time for studying theology, and anyway it would be of no
use for him to enter upon my inquiries, since rarely had he
known any one to be saved from sooner or later joining the
Church of Rome after being taken hold of by her teachings as
they had evidently taken hold of me. The one suggestion of
possible help against so sad a fate in my case was that I should
read Dr. Ewer's Conferences and Littledale's Plain Reasons.

Comfort certainly came to me in reading one of the chapters
in Dr. Ewer's book, but it came of conclusions drawn from false
premises, that the Papacy is an innovation, and others which be-
ing there I supposed must be true, and did not so much as
dream of investigating them. Heart-broken over the rebuff I had
received, not until long afterwards did I mention it to anybody.
Love and faith, and my conduct to every one, continued in all
things the same as before.

Many were the serious questionings running through seven
years ; the same, probably, in the main that present themselves
to most who become converts. But my peace was never more
than ruffled on the surface ; I was all the time so sure that my
Anglican teachers were right, and that whatever seemed wrong
was so only according to my understanding of it.

Faithfully following the advice officially given, to not read
any Catholic books of controversy, since they would but unsettle
without profiting me, I trustfully accepted from the same source

1891 ] A CONVERT'S STORY. 277

that the Papacy is not the will of Holy Church for her children.
Books any one of which I now think must have converted me
on this point were untouched, and in the desire to perfectly obey
I sat quietly under Anglican rule without looking into what
might be beyond it. The beginning of the end of my loyalty
to a system of delusions was what seemed a mere chance find-
ing of the first four volumes of the Ave Maria. Contributions
from Archbishop Spalding and Dr. Brownson were, of course,
especially delightful, and these and others, some of which were
of the kind I had scrupulously avoided for many years, I read
again and again, hardly knowing what I was about they so fas-
cinated me, while into my heart came a yearning toward the
Church of Rome which grew stronger as consciously and yet
unconsciously I cherished it.

In the same library, later, I came across some of the very ear-
liest numbers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD. Not only the contro-
versial papers, but reviews of certain Anglican books (Dr. Ewer's
Conferences was one of these) and some historical facts of which
hitherto I was ignorant or had heard quite differently stated,
helped me on. Often I had been warned against the Catholic
fathers of the present day as being trained casuists, full of
sophistries, and misleading in many ways ; very remarkable now
were the clearness and precision which I particularly noted in
various brief writings upon doctrinal subjects, whilst no less im-
pressive were the candor and charity which breathed in every
line of them all.

Every day brought fresh conviction that previously I had
been reading the " wrong histories," as an " advanced " High
Anglican minister once greatly shocked me by saying in reply to
something of mine about the Papacy as a " mediaeval develop-
ment." Yes, certainly wrong histories, which were responsible
for my Protestant ideas of the Inquisition, of the popes, of the
church prior to the " Reformation." And what was I to think
of England's penal enactments against her Catholic subjects, and
of Ireland's heroic sufferings as now I read of them ?

It was whilst still enjoying my magazine treasures that I
received from a clerical friend several books by some of the
most " advanced " writers of the " Establishment." Even a lay-
man may not find it hard to detect many falsities in the state-
ments and reasoning of Dr. Littledale, and after the first half of
his Petrine Claims I turned, heartsick, to other things from the
same pen, and then to Canons Carter and Gore in- turn, feeling

2/8

A CONVERT'S STORY.

[Nov.,

more and more that to be not within the Church of Rome,
however near to her, is to be outside the Catholic Church.

Of course, it must be that my salvation was involved in what
I would now do, but so possessing me as to leave little room
for any other consideration was the one thought that I was out-
side of God's church, and it could not be pleasing to him to
have me there. Long before this I was conscious of deep per-
sonal affection for the Holy Father, and now with all my heart
I accepted the doctrine of the Papacy, hitherto rejected because,
for reasons already stated, it was unexamined.

It was no new fervor which brought me into the church, but
the same old love for her that long ago God had given and
still continued to me, and which would not allow me to think
at all of how hard would be the wrench of tearing up the roots
of more than half a lifetime, but rather would leave consequences
with God. A letter asking that I might at once have direction
from those who alone are empowered of God to give it brought a
summons, and the third interview was not over when I could
say as never before, " I am a child of the church." Voyagers
have told of hearing music when their ship's out-spread canvas
has focussed the sound of cathedral bells, ringing jubilantly at
the time when miles out at sea the ship was passing them. So
the wanderer, kneeling to receive the sevenfold gifts, sails rightly
set for home at last surely it was from heaven that sound of
far-away sweet music which the ear could but faintly catch ;
and we do know the angels there are rejoicing over the sinner
that repents, who was lost and is found.

A. C. O. M.

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 279

THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW.

ON the twenty-first anniversary of the day on which the
Pope was despoiled of his temporal power, His Holiness received
the first band of some twenty thousand pilgrims from France.
These pilgrims were all working-men who had come to testify
their gratitude to the " great workman " (as the Comte de Mun
styled the Pope) for his encyclical in defence of their rights.
The Pope in his address to the pilgrims spoke of the happiness
he felt at having been able to contribute to the elevation of the
working-classes. He expressed great satisfaction at the fact that
the heads of important industries had already studied the appli-
cation of the encyclical, and that governments had not been
insensible to it, and insisted upon its being imperative to act at
once without losing precious time in barren discussions. Chris-
tian trade-unions, the formation of which was so warmly en-
couraged in the encyclical, were again spoken of. "Form," the
Pope said, "associations in which you will find, as in a second
family, strength in conflict, maintenance in the infirmities of old
age. Secure to your children by wise thrift a tranquil future."
With reference to the last recommendation of the Holy Father,
it may not be out of place to mention that in many schools in
England the fees which have hitherto been paid for the chil-
dren's education are being deposited in the Post-Office Savings-
Banks for the benefit of the children when they leave. In this
way not only are the children enabled to start with a small
sum, but they are being taught in early days practical lessons in
thrift and prudence. For a considerable time Penny Banks have
been established in connection with schools in Great Britain.
These Penny Banks are brought into association with the Post-
Office Savings-Banks, in this way securing unimpeachable safety.
A movement is on foot in this country for the introduction of
the Post-Office Savings-Banks, and it is to be hoped, in the
interests of that thrift which the Pope inculcates, that it may
be successful.

While recognizing the help which working-men may and
ought to receive from the public powers, the Pope did not fail
to reiterate the truth -which is so often lost sight of, that the
social question will never find a true and practical solution in

280 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Nov.,

purely civil laws, even the best. The solution lies in the do-
main of conscience, and conscience embraces not merely the
satisfaction of the demands of justice, which calls for fair wages
for work done, but the exercise of charity which goes beyond
justice. While it is necessary to insist upon the duty of paying
fair wages for work done (because the failure to do this is un-
doubtedly the most crying evil), the fact must be recognized
that the correlative duty, that fair, honest work must be done
for the wages received, is not always fulfilled by the other side.
A writer in an English paper records some observations which
he made of the proceedings of five carpenters " at work " on
the roof of an unfinished house. "1 watched them attentively
for ten minutes, during which two kept on steadily and honest-
ly ; a third knocked in three nails, giving three blows to each ;
a fourth exerted himself to about the same extent, while the
fifth did absolutely nothing." It is unfortunately quite unneces-
sary to go to an English newspaper to find ample proof of the
existence of injustice of this kind. We have only to open our
own eyes and we shall see for ourselves. Yet it is, of course, as
dishonest and unjust for a working-man to sell a day's or an
hour's labor and idle away a large percentage of it, as it is for
a store-keeper to sell short weight or measure, or for a capital-
ist to pay inadequate wages. And whichever party (whether the
capitalist or the working-class) may for the time being have the
power of makirig the civil laws to regulate the relation between
labor and capital, no good result will be achieved unless the
voice of the Church interpreting and enforcing the precepts of
justice and charity be listened to by both classes.

Last month we chronicled the proceedings of the Interna-
tional Socialistic Congress at Brussels ; we have this month
to take note of the Annual Congress of Trade-Unionists which
has been held at Newcastle, England. The proceedings of these
congresses have been exciting more and more interest since
the labor movement has taken so prominent a place in men's
minds, and they were looked to as a means of ascertaining
authoritatively and clearly the real wishes of those who work.
We fear, however, that the proceedings of this last congress
will not conduce to the maintenance or growth of this respect
and regard. The president, Mr. Burt, spoke of it, indeed, as
the largest and most representative body of Trade-Unionists
that had ever met in the civilized world. The exact num-
ber represented was 1,302,855. When we remember that the

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 281

laboring population of England alone is estimated at some
nine millions, it will be seen that the congress cannot speak for
the whole body. This, however, is not the chief thing which
weakens the claims of the congress to serious attention. Its
proceedings were characterized by so much noise, clamor and
even tumult, that the voice of reason made itself heard with
difficulty, and it was evident that the majority had come to the
congress with foregone conclusions, and with the determina-
tion to bear down all opposition. More than a hundred sub-
jects were to be discussed by the congress, and yet a quarter
of the time was spent in wrangling over the manner of voting.

We must not, therefore, attach too great weight to reso-
lutions passed under these conditions. They call, however, for
attention as indications of the wishes of no small number of
working-men. The thing brought out most clearly was, that the
" New Unionism " the unionism of the unskilled laborers is
becoming predominant. A trial of strength took place at the
beginning of the congress on the question of voting. By the
regulations in force, each delegate was entitled to one vote for
every thousand of the unionists of whom he was the representa-
tive who had paid the required subscription. It appears some-
what strange that among the working-classes the payment of
money should constitute a qualification for voting, when in the
interest of the working-classes such a qualification has been
abolished in parliamentary and other elections. Influenced by
this and by the fear of the richer unions, the New Unionists
opposed this regulation, and succeeded in substituting for it the
" one man, one vote " method, and thus paved the way for sub-
sequent victories.

This, however, was a mere question of procedure ; an im-
portant matter indeed if the congress had been a legislative
body with powers to decide, but which, when decided as it was,
rather detracts from than adds to the weight of resolutions
which derive their chief importance from their own intrinsic ex-
cellence. Yet it took the better part of one day to settle this
point, and consequently speeches had to be limited to three
minutes, and even then a large number of the proposed sub-
jects were not discussed. The most important matter dealt
with was the legal Eight Hours' Day. After a long dis-
cussion, in which the original resolution was, after having
weathered many storms, in the end lost, the congress found

282 THE OLD . WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Nov.,

itself able to decide, by a fairly large majority, " that legis-
lation regulating hours of labor to eight per day should be
in force in all trades and occupations save where a majority
of the organized members of the trade or occupation pro-
test by a ballot voting against the same." This would ren-
der eight hours the legal limit of work, but would give the
majority of the members of any trade-union the power to
exempt that union from the general law, establishing what is
called Trade Option. This result is an important modification
of the resolution in favof of a universally obligatory eight hours'
day which was passed at the congress held at Liverpool last
year, and shows that, notwithstanding the appearance of tumult
and disorder, moderate counsels made themselves heard. But
even the modified resolution has failed to meet with the appro-
bation of Mr. John Morley, one of the leaders of the Liberal
party. He characterized the Liverpool resolution as an absurd
and an impracticable proposition ; the modified resolution of the
recent congress he looks upon not as absurd, but only as im-
practicable. " We must not, however," he says, " jeer at the per-
plexed resolutions of these good men, who are trying to puzzle
out the matter for themselves." What effect this attitude of Mr.
Morley will have on the proposed legislation whether it will be
disastrous to himself or to the legislation time will soon show.

Resolutions were adopted for extending Factory and Work-
shop's Acts to laundries, domestic workshops, and all trades
where women and children were employed ; for raising the age
limit of children to thirteen years ; in favor of sending paid
delegates to the House of Commons in order to bring about
the state payment of all members of the house ; for amending
the Conspiracy Law ; in condemnation of the present method of
selecting jurors, which excludes working-men ; in favor of limit-
ing government and municipal contracts to firms which will con-
form to the customs of the unions in general, and as to wages
and hours of labor in particular. It is of interest to note here
that this demand of working-men has been conceded, either in
whole or in part, by many departments of the British adminis-
tration and by several municipalities. Contractors are required
to pay trade rates, otherwise the contract is null and void.
A resolution was carried in favor of closer and more friendly
relations with co-operative societies, although the treatment
accorded by some of those societies to their own workmen met
with sharp criticism. Other resolutions of a more technical

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 283

character were passed. As indicating the opinion of working-
men on the subject, it deserves to be mentioned that a resolu-
tion in favor of the appointment of a State Board of Arbitra-
tion, to consist of the nominees of capitalists and workers in
equal proportion, was rejected by a small majority. The con-
gress finally adjourned without having discussed several matters
of importance, among which was a proposal for the establish-
ment of municipal work-shops.

Last month we gave an account of several measures of the
French legislature in favor of the working-classes. But what has
been either done or proposed by the legislature does not repre-
sent the whole of the action of public bodies in the same direc-
tion. The municipalities of various cities throughout France
have, under the influence of the party called Possibilist, taken
similar action. The Possibilists profess to have a Socialist goal,
but differ from other groups of Socialists in their belief that it
is the duty of working-men to get as much advantage as pos-
sible out of the present arrangement of society. Among the
fruits of this politic method of proceeding must be reckoned
the creation of Labor Exchanges in Paris and several provincial
centres, of which exchanges the working expenses are paid by
the municipalities. Many of these municipalities have even been
prevailed upon to defray the expenses of working-class delega-
tions to all the principal exhibitions of Europe and America. In
aid of evening technical classes subventions have been voted by
various cities ; and in some instances money has been voted in
aid of the wives and families of men on strike. Without pass-
ing any opinion on the wisdom or unwisdom of these measures,
it seems somewhat strange that when the influence of working-
men goes so far already, so many should be willing to adopt
violent methods.

And in fact French workmen have recently met with severe
reverses in attempts made by them to secure by striking, accom-
panied with violence, the advantages which they desired. The
circumstances under which their defeat was brought about afford
an interesting contrast to anything that could take place in this
country. The marked public sympathy shown to the omnibus
men in their struggle in Paris led to their immediate success.
Emboldened by this, the railway men, hoping for similar help,
decided upon similar action. But in this they were disappointed.
As was proved in the Scotch railway strike, the public sympa-

284 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Nov.,

thy is warm enough to put up with a little inconvenience, but
not warm enough to put up with much ; and the stopping of
railway traffic was more than it would tolerate. Then and this
is the notable feature the government of the Republic stepped
in and placed the army railway corps at the service of the
companies, and the soldiers carried on the traffic until the
strikers were glad to be received back. The same thing took
place in the strike of the bakers; the army bakers were em-
ployed in making bread for the store-keepers, and they made it
so much more cheaply that the keepers of the stores were glad
of the strike and sorry when it ended. Moreover, there was a
prospect of the bakers who were on strike being called upon as
reserve men in the army to do the very work for army pay
which they had been doing for higher wages. It is scarcely to
be wondered at that the military system of the Continent finds
so little favor among large numbers of workmen.

At first sight, reference to the International Electrical Ex-
hibition recently held at Frankfort might seem to be quite out
of place in these notes on' social and industrial questions. The
bearing of the one upon the other is, however, very far from
being remote. As every student of political economy is well
aware, the present conditions of manufacture favor the concen-
tration or aggregation of capital. Small men have been driven
out owing to the fact that the power now in use water or
steam renders production much cheaper when the machinery is
concentrated at one spot. But if a new power were discovered
which could be distributed like gas from a single centre to the
work-people in their own homes, the days of the large capitalist
might be numbered, for production would in many cases be as
cheap for the small manufacturer as for the large. Now, at the
Frankfort Electrical Exhibition the current which lit 1,100 elec-
tric glow-lamps, and which set several motors in motion by which
motive power was supplied to a number of workshops, was trans-
mitted to the .exhibition from Lauffen, a place at a distance of
108 miles. At Lauflen the original motive power for the generat-
ing dynamos was a water-fall. The experiment was a complete
success, and is declared by competent authorities to be the
most momentous one yet made in technical electricity since that
force has been made practically useful.

The experiment did not merely show that the transmission of
electric power to such long distances was scientifically possible,

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 285

but also that it would be practicable from a business point of
view ; for fully seventy-five per cent, of the efficiency of the
current reached Frankfort. Unless some unforeseen obstacle pre-
sents itself, we may, therefore, be now on the verge of the long-
desired revolution in industrial production. The agglomeration
of men, women, and children in huge factories, amid the noise
and din of rattling wheels, beneath the watchful eye of a mer-
cenary task-master, may give place to work at home, where each
man will do his own work in peace and quiet" and be remu-
nerated according to its quantity and quality. Then, too, the
factory hand will cease to be the mere servile executor of the
plans and taste of others, and will be able to maintain his own
individuality and to contribute to the advance of art. We hope
we are not dreaming, and we have reason to think we are not.

So great is the interest taken in social and industrial ques-
tions that, at the recent meeting of the British Association for
the Advancement of Science, held at Cardiff in Wales, the pro-
ceedings of the Social and Economic Science Section attracted far
more attention than those of the sections devoted to the more
purely scientific subjects of mathematics, chemistry, geology, or
even biology. One paper in particular, read before the Economic
section, may be looked upon as the one most likely to give the
Cardiff congress an enduring place in men's minds. It was
written by Mr. T. Forster Brown on a subject which is continu-
ally entering into the minds of English thinkers, the probable
exhaustion of the coal-supply ; but the point of view, however,
from which it was looked at was new. After showing how en-
tire is the dependence of English trade and commerce on the
coal-supply, and that the coal easily obtainable obtainable on
terms commercially profitable would be exhausted in fifty years,
he asked what they, the present generation, were going to do
for their children and grandchildren, whose resources they were
consuming so rapidly and surely. As things are going on now
the fathers, instead of providing for the children, are rapidly
rendering it impossible for the children to provide for themselves.
What, then, was the duty of the present generation ? In view of
the hard times coming it was their duty, in the present period
of prosperity, to remove the burdens which would fall on their
children. They should, therefore, by methods which he described
in detail and which, of course, our space precludes our attempt-
ing to describe pay off the national debt, purchase all the rail-
ways, tramways, canals, docks, water and gas companies, and ex-

286 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Nov.,

tinguish the indebtedness of the towns and cities. When all this
has been done the high price of coal will be tolerable and will
not cripple the energies of the future inhabitants of Great
Britain. We have riot seen that any step has yet been taken to
realize the proposals made. However it is a good sign of the
times that such proposals should attract attention, and we hope
that this forethought for future generations of Englishmen is but
an evidence of the anxiety which is felt for the existing genera-
tion, and that the superabundant anxiety which looks so far
ahead will not be remiss as to actual needs.

The Free Education Act is now in force, and out of 19,700
schools in Great Britain more than 19,000 have signified their
intention to conform to the act. This does not, however,
mean that all these schools have been made quite free, for the
act admits of partial payments by parents. The London Board
Schools, have, however all been made free. The expectation that
all school boards would adopt the free system has not, however,
been realized, for in several places schools which charge fees,
have been retained. This is still more the case as regards Vol-
untary Schools. In Liverpool the Catholic schools charge the
small sum of one-half cent a week for the purpose, we pre-
sume, of keeping alive in parents their moral responsibility for
their children's education. Great efforts are being made to
maintain the religious schools in the position they had secured be-
fore the passing of the act ; nor are these efforts superfluous, for the
Bishop of Salford has declared that in his diocese alone $15,000
more a year will be required in consequence of the act. American
experience is being appealed to in support of these efforts. The
last report of the United States commissioner, which shows a
steady transfer of children from public schools to private schools,
a transfer amounting to as much as one-tenth of the children, is
adduced as proof of the dissatisfaction excited by purely secu-
lar free education. The dissatisfaction experienced by those
who have themselves made the experiment is sure, it is argued by
Dr. Wilson, former head-master of Clifton College, to be felt sooner
or later by those who may adopt the secular system in Great
Britain, and what will be the result? If the schools are once
given over to the state and made entirely secular, the state will
never restore them to their former managers. Then new re-
ligious schools will have to be built and supported, and those
schools will not have the advantage of government inspection.
" If we close denominational schools under government inspec-

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 287

tion to-day, we shall have them open to-morrow without govern-
ment inspection."

The Temperance movement, notwithstanding the adjournment
of Parliament, is slowly but steadily effecting its object. The
bills introduced during the last session, it is true, failed
to become law. In particular the Irish Bill, which had such
good prospects on its second reading, was withdrawn in the last
days of the session owing to the impossibility of finding time
for discussion. Mr. Sexton and other members of the Irish
party, both Parnellite and anti-Parnellite, offered to it an unyield-
ing opposition. The old law, however, remains in force. But
notwithstanding the non-success of proposed legislation, the force
of temperance conviction is making itself felt in another way.
The decision of the House of Lords in the case of " Sharpe v.
Wakefield," that a publican possesses no vested right to the re-
newal of his license, has induced the magistrates in a few in-
stances to suppress public-houses on the mere ground that the
number of them is too great, and to give notice in a great many
cases that that course will be pursued hereafter, especially if
there is the slightest ground for complaint about the manner in
which .a house is conducted. In some country places in Eng-
land there is a public-house for every ninety-one inhabitants.
There is, therefore, room for extensive weeding. The magistrates,
however, have not even yet a perfectly free hand, for their
power to refuse must be exercised judicially ; that is, not in vir-
tue of a general foregone conclusion, but on a judgment con-
cerning each particular case.

There are several other indications of the growth of the
movement in the most extreme form Teetotalism and Prohibi-
tion. The leaders of the Gladstonian party, Mr. Gladstone him-
self, Sir William Vernon Harcourt, and Mr. John Morley, have
declared in favor of local option, and a member of the present
Conservative cabinet has declared war on the " tied house "
system. This for either party is a good stroke of policy if, as
Mr. Caine asserts, there are now seven million total abstainers.
To say nothing of other organizations, in the Bands of Hope,
which consist exclusively of children, there are said to be two
million members. But it is not the friends alone of the move-
ment that recognize the power which it has attained. A leading
physician in London, who has declared himself its unflinching
opponent, has felt himself called upon, on account of its growing

288 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Nov.,

power, to take up arms against it. He writes : " Believing tee-
totalism to be one of the weakest and most mischievous crazes
of the nineteenth century, I think the time has arrived when it
is desirable that some one who has strong views on the subject
of what it is the fashion of the day to denounce as drinking
should speak out honestly. ... I am persuaded the time has
come when those who do not share the views it is fashionable
to profess ought to declare themselves." He admits unreserved-
ly : u I am placing myself in antagonism to the majority of
medical writers on this topic.'' This letter has called forth col-
umn upon column of letters to the newspapers. Into the merits
of the controversy this is not, of course, the place to enter. We
refer to it in order to show the strength which teetotalism has
attained.

We do not, as a rule, in this country associate our German
fellow-citizens witn any remarkable zeal for temperance legisla-
tion. The German fatherland, however, is engaged in the con-
sideration of perhaps the most drastic project short of absolute
prohibition that has ever been submitted to the judgment of a
legislative body. The real author is said to be the emperor him-
self. Among other provisions it forbids the selling of spirits before
eight o'clock in the morning, and, with what seems charming sim-
plicity, imposes on dealers the obligation of doing all in their power
to hinder the abuse of spirituous liquors. No spirit-dealer is to be
permitted to sell spirits to any person below the age of sixteen
years. They are forbidden to sell liquor to any visibly drunken
person, or to any person who within three years has been pun-
ished as a confirmed drunkard. The spirit-dealer is bound to
see that drunken persons are conducted to their dwellings or
handed over to the care of the police ; moreover he is forbidden
to supply liquor on credit. We hope that the German liquor-
sellers have a keener sense of the evils of their trade than those
in this country are endowed with, and also with a greater re-
gard for the laws of the land. If they have, the law will be
useful ; otherwise we have our fears. But the most remarkable
feature of the proposed law is the provision for dealing with
those who on account of drunken habits are unable to manage
their affairs, or who by their conduct threaten to bring their
families into want or to endanger the safety of others. These
may be placed under a guardian, and this person may, with the
consent of the court, place his ward in an asylum for inebriates.
Even in cases where the guardian does not exercise his rights in

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 289

this respect, the court may intervene and order his committal to
an asylum. It is impossible to say as yet how much of this
bill will pass into law. It will undoubtedly be keenly opposed,
and, strange to say, by the party which in other countries is in
favor of such legislation.

The most important event in European politics since our last
notes were written is the relaxation of the passport system in
Alsace-Lorraine. This indicates, and is generally accepted in
France as indicating, the intention of the German emperor to do
away with everything that unnecessarily increases the friction
between the two powers. A thing worthy of note, however, is
the way in which the papers have filled their columns with a
variety of startling incidents, subsequently to be proved to have
either no foundation, or but the slightest, in fact. It was gravely
announced that the Emperor William had spent ten thousand
francs to send a lot of Germans to acclaim Wagner at the Opera
in Paris. Then the occupation of Sigri by the English was pro-
claimed. Afterwards came the declaration that France and Rus-
sia had decided to oblige England to evacuate Egypt without
delay. Next came the news that an Italian man-of-war had
ostentatiously refused to salute the French flag. Last of all a
report appeared in a French newspaper of a speech made by
the Grand Duke of Baden, in which he said that the time was
near in which Germany would have again to unsheathe her
sword. The newspapers aspire to supplant the pulpit as teach-
ers and instructors, but while in Europe so many of them revel
in sensation-mongering, and in this country in filth and calumny,
they will before their claims can be accepted have to furnish
more satisfactory proofs of their competency.

The closeness of the relation now established between France
and Russia is proved by the fact that a loan has been negotiated
by French bankers, although the Jewish bankers a short time
ago refused to have any thing to do with a proposed Russian
loan. It seems certain, also, that there has been a rapproche-
ment between Turkey and her old enemy. The Dardanelles
question has been settled by a concession which enables certain
" Volunteer " vessels of Russia to pass through the straits as
freely as merchant vessels. Moreover, since the change of min-
istry and the appointment of a new grand vizier, a change seems
to have taken place in the attitude of the Grand Porte towards
Bulgaria, although this is disclaimed. All the Powers, however
VOL. LIV. 19

290 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Nov.,

are loud, and we believe sincere, in their profession of a desire
for peace, nor does it appear likely that war will soon break
out. The chief fear at present is lest Germany and the other
allied powers should deem it better to strike a blow while Rus-
sia is crippled by famine, and poverty, and the process of re-
arming her soldiers, and before France gets stronger than she
actually is.

For France seems to be growing stronger every day. The
old parties are dwindling into insignificance. The recent ma-
noeuvres have made clear to all the world the strength and com-
plete efficiency of her army ; the present ministry has proved itself
stable ; the ministers in their speeches have manifested a spirit
of great moderation and prudence, abandoning the attitude of
combat and defiance towards the opponents of the republican
form of government, and calling upon the nation to union and
mutual confidence. The president has secured for himself the
regard and respect of all parties. On the occasion of his recent
visit to Chalons the bishop expressed his hope that as the first
Carnot had been the " Organizer of Victory," the present might
become the u Pacifier of Consciences." One of the most promis-
ing signs is that the government, which a short time ago quailed
before the mob and suppressed " Thermidor," feels itself now
strong enough to protect " Lohengrin " from the same opposi-
tion. Moreover, efforts are being made to suppress that glaring
blot on French civilization its obscene literature. Of course,
many things are still done in the name of the .government which
call for the strongest condemnation. For example, the mayor of
La Mire has forbidden young girls wearing white dresses, be-
cause white is the color of the old dynasty and of the Blessed
Virgin. This seems to us a monstrous piece of tyranny, but the
ways of continental Europe are not as our ways. Not long ago
the police in Vienna were instructed to prohibit women in long
dresses walking in the streets, and in Prague white caps were

forbidden by the all-supervising authorities.

In Germany and in Austria military manoeuvres have been the
order of the day. At one of these the German and Austrian
emperors met, but nothing is known of the political results (if
any) of this meeting. At another the German emperor made a
speech in. which he referred (according to some reports) in disre-
spectful terms of the first Napoleon as a parvenu Corsican. This
excited great indignation in the country which will not allow to
the descendants of this Corsican so much as a burial-place in its

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 291

soil. In East Africa the Germans have met with a grave dis-
aster, which may prove a serious hindrance to the suppression of
the slave-trade. If we may put confidence in the words of the
chancellor of the German Empire, European peace is assured,
for he has publicly declared that no cloud darkens the political
horizon. -- The fearful famine raging in Russia should, one would
think, engross all the energies of the government. However, it
would appear that it is strong enough even in this severe time
of trial to enlarge the borders of the empire. In " the Roof of
the World " (to use the native name for Pamir), of which the
Russian territories and those of British India and of China form
the boundaries, Russia is accused of making serious encroach-
ments. Meanwhile the Jews are being driven out of their homes
with relentless rigor. One of the most remarkable undertakings
ever entered upon by a private person has taken practical form
and shape. Baron Hirsch has formed a company, of which al-
most the entire capital ten million dollars has been subscribed
by himself, for rinding homes, and especially farms, for the expa-
triated Jews. The effort is a noble one : whether or no it will
succeed it is hard to say. The Jews who left Russia in 1882,
and for whom farms were found in the West, have abandoned
those farms long ago, and have been sent back to their old
country, money having been subscribed for the purpose.

Spain remains in the same state of political quietude to
which we alluded in our last. She has been visited, however,
by terrible storms which have ruined and devastated whole
provinces. In one place some two thousand lives were lost,
railroads were destroyed, and there are grave fears lest the finan-
cial credit of the country none too good should be affected.
The redeeming feature of these sad events has been the mani-
festation of the generosity and kindness of the nation towards
the sufferers " a frenzy of charity " one of its papers called it.
These storms are said to recur periodically, and to be due to
the absence of forests. This absence of forests itself is said to
be due to the fact that the Spanish peasantry look upon a tree
much in the same way as an English peasant looks upon game.
As the latter thinks it no wrong to violate the game-laws, so
every Spanish peasant cuts down without the least scruple any
tree to which he may take a fancy, in disregard of all proprie-
torial rights, and consequently the whole country is denuded of
forests. And so the recent disasters find an ultimate cause in
mistaken ideas of morality.

292 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

THREE of the new fall books relate to Russia and various
aspects of Russian life, a subject abundantly interesting of late,
and destined, doubtless, to remain so. What is written about it,
however, whether by natives or foreigners, varies indefinitely in
point of interest, instructiveness, and charm. Mr. Stoddard's
volume* probably represents no aspiration beyond that of pro-
ducing a fresh and comprehensive guide-book for intending visi-
tors to St. Petersburg and Moscow. It is, at all events, faithful
enough to such an ideal. It must not be inferred that these
two cities were the only places visited by Mr. Stoddard on the
journey he describes. He entered Russia through Sweden and
Finland, to each of which countries he devotes a chapter or
two, and came back to " a society where education and civiliza-
tion were prominent and influential " by way of Warsaw, Cra-
cow, the Carpathians, some Hungarian caverns, and Buda-Pesth.
But the chief impression gained by his reader is not unlike that
produced by a good museum catalogue and Cook's tourist guide-
book. More history, more politics, more communicativeness
concerning the condition and manners of the common people,
and a less marked avoidance of burning questions, would have
increased its value and interest for the general reader.

Gregorovitch, an old man of seventy, has long been a popular
novelist in his own country, but has not made much impression
upon that foreign public which either admires or pretends to
admire Tolstoi and TurgeniefL The tale f now translated and
preceded by a brief sketch of the author by Mr. Pierson, is de-
scribed as " an admirable picture of modern life in St. Peters-
burg." There is nothing admirable in the picture, however,
except the skill with which it portrays the fond simplicity of
Nikolai Foufliguine, the abortive folly of his wife, and the
meanness, cupidity, profligacy, and selfishness of all the other
personages introduced. It is undeniably clever in workmanship,
and that is all that can be said in its favor, save that it ends
happily for the Foufliguines after they have thrown all their
little fortune into the laps of greedy relatives, petty politicians,
and other disgraceful but, doubtless, wholly natural characters.

* Across Russia from the Baltic to the Danube. By Charles Augustus Stoddard. New
York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

t The Cruel City. After the Russian of Dimitry Gregorovitch. Introduction by E. De
Lancey Pierson. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

1 891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 293

A Russian Priest * represents a totally different aspect of
Russian life. It appeared about a year ago as a serial in the
Viestnik Evropi, the leading literary magazine in Russia, under
a name which is probably assumed. It is interesting in all re-
spects and particularly well worth reading, since it deals with a
topic seldom handled the habits and conditions of the peasantry
and the influence exerted over them by the clergy. The hero,
Cyril Obnovlienski, belongs to what might be called the heredi-
tary caste of the clergy. As is well known, the Greek Church
requires marriage as a preliminary condition to the ordination
of a secular priest, although it forbids them to contract a second
marriage after widowhood. A student who has passed through
the seminary and the academy with honors, especially if he has
earned the degree of " Magistrant," or Master of Arts, is a
" made man " from the professional point of view. There are
several courses open to him, as Mr. Gaussen explains in his brief
but instructive preface. He may either marry and receive a
nomination to some lucrative town living, or remain a layman
and become a Seminary professor. But if he is ambitious to
rise in his profession, he will embrace the celibate life and enter
a monastery, the only feeding ground of prospective bishops.
The less productive town livings and the country parishes fall to
the share of those theological students whose course has been
less brilliant. The clergy are not salaried by government, nor,
since 1861, when the serfs were emancipated, have they been
greatly assisted by the great landed proprietors. Their income
is derived from the fees received for baptisms, funerals, and other
religious ceremonies, and, in the towns, often amounts to a large
sum. " Several parishes in Moscow and Petersburg," says the
English editor, "yield considerably over a thousand pounds a
year in our money." But in poor country places the living of
the priest, his family and clerical assistants, is screwed out of the
peasants by a tariff of charges graduated according to the needs
of the recipients, unmodified by those of the persons to whom
the services are rendered. In addition to these fees, a small
allotment of church land is given them to farm. Hence, when
Cyril, who might legitimately aspire even to a bishopric, elects
not only to marry but insists on being appointed to a country
cure, his own family and that of his bride-elect are bitterly dis-
appointed. The bishop alone approves when he learns the
grounds of his choice. Never before in that dignitary's life had
an academician petitioned to be made a village priest. " I wish

* A Russian Priest. By N. H. Ilota Ilehko. Edited and translated by W. Gaussen.
New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

294 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

to serve the lesser brethren those that live in darkness," Cyril
had answered when his reasons were inquired for. " Oh, that's
it ! " said the bishop ; " only I don't understand why you have
thus decided." " I don't care about town life ; a large income
has no attractions for me," continued Cyril. " My heart is in
the village where I was born and bred." " This is very sensi-
ble ! May God bless you ! " added the bishop in delight. " You
will be an example to the others."

Cyril, in short, has the true priestly and apostolic vocation.
" Why didn't he enter a monastery if he had such notions as
these ? " inquires his aggrieved assistant, when, under Cyril's
management of their flock, the income with which he has been
accustomed to provide comfortably for his family and lay aside
wedding portions for his six daughters, shrinks up into a sum
barely sufficient for the necessaries of life. The answer is that
Cyril feels himself called to an active work of enlightenment and
elevation among the poor, and that he is as unable to accomplish
it unmarried as he would have been if unordained. He replies
to the woman who would have tempted him to be unfaithful to
his vocation, when she says :

"Why do you wear that cassock? You don't really believe.
. . . Take it off!"

In her quiet, scarcely audible voice something in the nature
of a demand was heard.

" Who told you that ? I believe in God, who has helped
me to reach the hearts of these dark people. Without that I
should never have done what I have," answered Cyril in a tone
of firm conviction.

"Very well! but why d you wear that cassock?"

" Why ? Why in order to have the right to go among them
in their every -day life."

There is something very noble in the conception of Cyril,
and the manner in which it has been worked out is excellent.
His vocation costs him all that he has, even his wife, to whom
evangelical poverty, when it comes to mean almost starvation,
passes the bounds of endurance. She promises to come back
and bring his baby son when her husband " returns to his senses."
Should he do so, " the bishop is willing to appoint you to a
place in the Merchant's church, should you wish it." For an
instant Cyril meditates that possibility, but only to reject it.
One day he will reclaim his son and teach him how to live.
And meanwhile he is not alone. He has conquered his people
and made himself dear to them. " Cyril remembered the sick
woman the doctor had spoken to him about. He put on his
cnssock, took his stick, and with a firm step descended into

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 295

the street." Thus abruptly the story ends, leaving, as it were,
a half-closed door through which one gets a more than ordinarily
vivid glimpse into the needs and hopes and immense drawbacks
of Russian common life.

Amaryllis* is a pleasingly sentimental and perfectly innocent
little pastoral, the scene of which is laid near Athens. It can
hardly be said to have a theme, but perhaps, if rigidly searched
in quest of something of the sort, one might unearth the sug-
gestion that obstacles are so essential to the proper course of
true love, that, when they do not naturally exist, it is wise to
introduce them artificially.

Emotions are plentiful enough among the four or five per-
sons with whom the latest issue of the " Unknown " library
chiefly deals, to justify one half of its very taking title. f Nor are
some emotions likely to remain dormant in its readers ; those, for
example, which produce amused laughter, respect for the au-
thor's cleverness, his extremely light and sure touch, and keen
sense of some fundamental belongings of human nature. But
the " moral " is not so obvious, unless, indeed, it may be couched
in the advice, " Never marry one person when you love another."
The two couples who are paired but not mated could hardly
serve to point any other. However, the moral of a story is
nowadays seldom worth discussing or looking for. What does
call for notice in this one is the cleverness of the dialogue.
There are strokes of wit and flashes of insight in the talks
carried on between Cynthia and Lady Theodosia unsurpassed in
any recent fiction we remember. Cynthia, by the way, bears
a family likeness to some of Mr. Thomas Hardy's earlier
heroines. She might be " own first cousin " to Elfrida in " A
Pair of Blue Eyes."

Those who " love books about books " and there are a good
many of us will not easily find more agreeable entertainment
than is furnished in Miss Repplier's recent volume.;): She is a
very charming essayist. Unerring taste ; a range of reading
wide enough to include the Shepherd of Hernias at one end and
the " penny dreadful " of English railway-stands at the other ; a
pleasant humor of her own, and its natural accompaniment, a
quick sense of humor in others ; a style so lucid yet so re-
strained that the epithet well-bred seems to belong to it by
right, give Miss Repplier a certain unique distinction in her own

* Amaryllis. By Georgios Drosines. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.
f Some Emotions and a Moral. By John Oliver Hobbes. New York : Cassell Publish-
ing Co.

J Points of View. By Agnes Repplier. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

296 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

department of literature. We have, for our own part, no favorite
among the papers contained in her present volume. " Books
that have Hindered Me " is especially amusing in a quiet way,
and " Fiction in the Pulpit " a good sermon whose application
the ( reader makes or fails to make according to his own good
pleasure. A closer and more compact style than is usual with
Miss Repplier is observable in '< Scanderbeg," an essay which
originally appeared in this magazine. But in this case her sub-
ject did not naturally lead into those pleasant byways which usu-
ally attract her.

Mr. Crawford's new romance* is fantastic enough to abundantly
justify its title. His " witch," if not a convincing is at least a
striking figure, and one that to our notion illustrates admirably the
artistic possibilities and the rigid limits of hypnotism, whether
as a healing or a destructive agency. Unorna, the witch, is a
natural clairvoyant as well as a marvellous hypnotizer, who uses
her powers without comprehending either their source -or scope.
Mr. Crawford insists on her beauty, but, by gifting her with one
gray eye and one brown one, and dwelling now and then on
various other natural defects, such as the coldness and marble-
like heaviness of her well-modeled hands, he manages to prevent
his reader from believing in it. Perhaps this treatment is meant
to be symbolic. At all events, whether by accident or design,
his tale throws into prominence the old truth, familiar to all
who have made any study of either ancient or modern occult-
ism, that here as elsewhere in nature nothing comes out of the
egg which was not put into it. In the new science, where
man's will seems to be raised to the n th power, so to say, it
nevertheless remains purely human. Probably the evolution is
not even yet equal to the involution, but its promise tends only
thitherward ; man wills, not what he pleases but what he can.
Naturalism, that is, remains always distinctly different from, and
indefinitely below, what Christians mean by supernaturalism.
Who will may convince himself of that fact by reading the lives
of the saints, and comparing them, not merely with the most
circumstantial details of spiritism, magic, and hypnotism, but
with the fictions based on such things by men as clever as Bul-
wer or Mr. Crawford. There is something towards which man
aspires, and to which he not infrequently attains, not simply in
the persons of saints and prophets but in those of otherwise or-
dinary good Christians, between which and the extraordinary
limit of his natural powers a great gulf opens. Life and Love

*The Witch of Prague: A Fantastic Tale. By F. Marion Crawford. Illustrated by
W. J. Hennessy. London and New York : Macmillan & Co.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 297

mock at man. Death he can always compass, and almost
always satisfy his brute desires ; he can inflict pain and give
pleasure ; he can thwart, oppose, and harass the spirit of his
neighbor and fatally degrade his own. Within the limits of his
nature he can ameliorate his condition and uplift those beneath
his mental and spiritual level. The professional hypnotists
promise a step farther than has yet been taken in this direction,
and by the mere force of suggestion to convert drunkards into
sober men, and the vicious into decorous members of society.
They are handicapped, however. Their " sword's hilt is the
sharpest," as Mrs. Browning's seraph remarks of his own. On
all sides the evils that must attach to the now fully accepted
and fast-developing power, are more dreaded than the benefits
that may spring from it are desired. Grarrt all that can possi-
bly be claimed for it, and man, though richer, is not other than
he was. Life and Love mock at him still, and " He that sits in
the heavens laughs " when he seeks peace or blessedness except
in Him. " Wonderful in His saints," He works still, as He has
always worked, in and through and by them, marvels which
neither human science nor imagination, hampered in their boldest
flights by the chain that binds what is earthly to the earth, dare
aspire to rival. Man rests on his natural level until lifted
from it by the lever of divine grace and a will that is higher
than that of man. But then, he soars above the earth ; the
rust of poverty and the pangs of disease transmute themselves
for him into the gold of contentment and the blissful soundness
of those who are whole in God ; when jt pleases Him whose
footstool is Nature to reward heroic virtue, inanimate things
obey him, the brute creation acknowledges him its master,
and death and the grave yield up their prey. Read the naive
and bald chronicles, Scriptural in their bluntness of detail, in
which the lives of men like Francis of Assisi and Anthony of
Padua are set down. Behold the dead take up anew and go on
bearing the burden of life at the prayer of Francis Xavier and
Francis de Sales. See, as some of us have seen, the blind re-
stored to sight, the deaf to hearing, the deformed made straight,
the gifts of healing, and prophecy, and vision granted in ways
that made visible the finger of the Master of Life and asked of
man's will only the act of invocation based on the merits of
Jesus Christ, and then think how cheap the marvels of occult-
ism must be held by Christian men arid women !

The author of " How to be Happy though Married," and
several other volumes which by their popularity seem to prove

298 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

that they " met a felt want," has recently published one on The
Business of Life.* Though there is nothing very new about it,
even to the anecdotes with which its pages abound, yet it is
entirely readable, wholesome in sentiment, and for the most part
even tritely true. In fact, the well-known criticism on a certain
philosopher, that what was true in his writings was not new, arid
what was new was not true, seems particularly applicable in the
present case. We have not found the author straying beyond
orthodox Protestant bounds save in the remark that " immor-
tality is probably conditional." His essay on " Wealth as a Pro-
fession " is well worth pondering by those who have been elected
to the high calling of stewardship in these days. He is gossipy,
chatty and agreeable always, and if he is sometimes preachy
as well, that is one of the chief drawbacks of men of his cloth
when they leave the pulpit for the desk.

A very good novel indeed, clever in style, full of incident,
and so well managed as to plot that he will be a very penetrat-
ing reader who does not remain in ignorance of the clew until
the author reveals it in the last chapter, is The Fatal Request, f
It comes to us in company with another issue of the " Sunshine
Series," which deserves equal praise, Mr. Hake's Within Sound
of the Weir. Both of them are English stories of middle and
lower class life, the scenes being laid near London. Mr. Hake
has sometimes a touch which reminds one of Dickens.

A really brilliant novel in point of style and treatment of
character is called Miss Maxwell's Affections.^ This also is Eng-
lish, but the characters belong to " the nobility and gentry and
county families." Though it seems to be its author's first story,
it is written with a firm hand and plenty of assurance. Ger-
trude and her trio of admirers are very well understood and
described, though exception may plausibly be taken to the very
unpleasant scene in the churchyard with the hereditary madman,
George Brabant.

A poor novel, The Price of a Coronet, \ adapted from the
French of Pierre Sales, and a very clever^ one, whose scene is
laid in France, by an Englishman, Mr. R. H. Sherard, come also
from Cassell's. The first, though not destitute of good points,

* The Business of Life. By the author of " How to be Happy though Married." New
York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

t The Fatal Request. By A. L. Harris. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

} Within Sound of the Weir. By Thomas St. E. Hake. New York : Cassell Publish-
ing Co.

Miss Maxwell's Affections. By Richard Pryce. New York : Harper & Brothers.

\ The Price of a Coronet. Adapted from the French of Pierre Sales by Mrs. Benjamin
Lewis. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

\By Right, not Law. By R. H. Sherard. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 299

makes them by forced contrasts with meanness and vice of the
unpleasant description too common in French fiction. The
second is something of a curiosity as to invention and plot.
The singular Englishman, Oliver Martin, and his contrivance for
extorting what he conceives to be justly his own from old Pru-
dence Mecrant ; the history of his motives ; the apparent incredi-
bility of a perfectly true tale, which brings him within a stone's
throw of the scaffold ; the clever use that is made of hypnotism
as a detective agent ; and Oliver's final escape, just when the
need of escape had been averted, all make up as entertaining a
bit of pure story-telling, with not a scrap of love-making in it,
as we have lately seen.

There are some very pretty complications in Mr. Anthony
Hope's unusually clever novel, Father Stafford.* " Why is the
gentleman called * Father ' ? " asks one of the 'guests at Eugene
Lane's country-house when he learns that the party is to be
reinforced by a new arrival.

" Because he is a priest," Miss Chambers answered. " And
really, Mr. Territon, you're very ignorant. Everybody knows
Father Stafford. You do, Mr. Haddington ? "

" Yes," said Haddington, " I've heard of him. He's an An-
glican Father, isn't he?"

The personage thus announced is a " high " Churchman of
the most advanced description. " Everybody knows " about his
fasts and penances and his vow of celibacy. As his host says
on the occasion just quoted from :

" By the way, you fellows, I may as well mention that Staf-
ford doesn't drink, or eat meat, or smoke, or play cards, or any-
thing else."

" What a peculiar beggar ! " said Bob.

"Yes, and he's peculiar in another way; he particularly
objects to any remark being made on his habits I mean on
what he eats and drinks and so on."

" There I agree," said Bob ; " I object to any remarks on
what I eat and drink " ; and he took a long pull at the beer.

Stafford, though not much past thirty, has made a real repu-
tation based on what he has done as well as on the many
things he declines to do. Not only his learning and his success
with an East End parish have made him a marked man, but
his absolute sincerity of conviction has won him the reverence of
many to whom his views and practices seem absurd. If he
comes down at this crisis to his old friend Lane, it is because
incessant labor has reduced him to such weakness that he has

* Fat her Stafford. By Anthony Hope. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

300 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

been ordered to quit work and rest himself. Now, the party at
Lane's comprises the betrothed of the host, Kate* Bernard, a
couple whose attachment for each other is a doubtful quantity;
a Mr. Haddington, who is the second string to Kate's bow;
Lady Claudia Territon, a dangerous flirt by whom Eugene Lane
is seriously smitten ; an eccentric artist named Morewood ; Sir
Roderick Ayre, the Bishop of Bellminster, and his wife, and one
or two others. " Father Stafford " being destined by fate for
the hero of a novel, is preordained to fall in love, in spite of
his vow, and is altogether out of his depth with Claudia some
time before he knows it. Claudia, flirt as she is, does not know
it at all. Like the " father," she is religious, takes his vow
seriously, and though she spends a good deal of time with him,
she is doubly protected, on one side by her belief that he is
within no woman's reach, and on the other by an attraction to
Lane, held in tolerable check by her knowledge that he is an
engaged man. Stafford's recognition of his predicament comes
when he sees a head of himself that Morewood has painted
after seeing him at an unguarded moment when all his passion
for the unconscious Claudia is written on his face. There is
some excellent talk between the painter, Lane, and Sir Roderick
when they look at this picture together and debate whether or
not Stafford ought to see it. When he does, the effect on him
is immense. He is shocked, horrified. " It is the face of a
beast," he says to Morewood. " My dear fellow, that's stuff ! "
returns the painter. " It's only the face of a lover. . . .
What's the harm, again I say ? And if she loves you

Stafford's story is itself so condensed that it is not easy to
outline it more narrowly still. The gist of it is that he has
been so desperately in earnest in his vow, and his faith has taken
so profound a hold on his intellect, that to him such a dispensa-
tion as he could easily get from his bishop has come to mean a
deliberate casting away of God and all high ideals, for the sake
of gratifying his lower inclinations under a decent veil of mar-
riage. " Lucas Malet " has recently been handling a somewhat
similar situation in her Wages of Sin. Stafford flees at once
from temptation or, better, from Claudia's presence and be-
takes himself to a " Retreat " founded by some wise man for An-
glican parsons in difficulties, where they can think out their pro-
blems undisturbed. He fights through a terrible week or two
perhaps more and then announces his decision in a really
powerful scene with the infidel Morewood, and shocks him
thoroughly. He says he thinks

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 301

" a broken vow is death to your own soul and a trap to the
souls of others a baseness, a treason, a desertion. . . . All
that it meant to me and more the triumph of the beast in
me passion and desire rampant man forsaken and God be-
trayed my peace for ever gone, my honor for ever stained.". . .

"Do you still believe all that?"

" Yes, all, and more than all. For a moment a day perhaps
a week, I drove myself to doubt. I tried to doubt I rejoiced in
it. But I cannot. As God is above us, I believe all that."

"If you break this vow you think you will be ?"

" The creature I have said ? Yes and worse."

" I think the vow utter nonsense," said Morewood again.

" But if you thought as I think, then would your love yes,
and would a girl's heart weigh with you ? "

Morewood stood still.

" I can hardly realize it," he said, " in a man of your brain.
But

" Yes ? " said Stafford looking at him almost as if he were
amused, for his sudden outburst had left him quite calm.

" If I believed that, I'd cut off my hand rather than break the
vow."

" I knew it ! " cried Stafford, " I knew it ! "

Morewood was touched with pity.

" If you're right," he said, "it won't be so hard to you. You'll
get over it."

"Get over it?"

" Yes ; what you believe will help you. You've no choice,
you know." ... A pause followed. Stafford still sat mo-
tionless, but his face changed from its stern aspect to the look
that Morewood had once caught on his canvas.

"You're in love with her still?" he exclaimed.

" Still ? "

"Yes. Haven't you conquered it? I'm a poor hand at
preaching, but, by Jove ! if I thought like you, I'd never think
of the girl again."

" I mean to marry her," said Stafford quietly. " I have
chosen." Morewood was in very truth shocked. But Stafford's
morals, after all, were not his care.

" Perhaps she won't have you," he suggested at last, as though
it were a happy solution.

Stafford laughed outright.

"Then I could go back to my priesthood, I suppose?"

"Well after a time."

" As a burglar who is caught before his robbery goes back to
his trade. As if it made the smallest difference as if the result
mattered ! "

" I suppose you are right there."

" Of course. But she will have me."

" Do you think so ? "

"I don't doubt it. If I doubted it, I should die."

" I doubt it," said Morewood.

" Pardon me ; I dare say you do."

302 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

"You don't want to talk about that?"

" It isn't worth while. I no more doubt it than that the sun
shines. Well, Mr. Morewood, I am obliged to you for hearing
me out. I had a curiosity to see how my resolution struck
you."

" If you have told me the truth, it strikes me as devilish.
I'm no saint ; but if a man believes in good, as you do, by God,
he oughtn't to trample it under foot ! "

Stafford took no notice of him. He rose and held out his
hand. " I'm going back to London to-morrow," he said, " to
wait till she comes."

" God help you ! " said Morewood with a sudden impulse.

" I have no more to do with God," said Stafford.

" Then the devil help you, if you rely on him."

" Don't be angry," he said with a swift return of his old
sweet smile. " In old days I should have liked your indignation.
I still like you for it. But I have made my choice.

" ' Evil, be thou my good.' Is that it ? "

" Yes, if you like. Why talk about it any more ? It is done."

It is Morewood who is right about Claudia, however. Not
only does Stafford's abandonment of his ideal lower him in her
eyes, but the breaking of Lane's engagement very amusingly
managed, by the way, by Sir Roderick Ayre has left the way
open between her and the man she loves. Stafford, waking up
to the knowledge that he has really flung away all and got
nothing in exchange, resolves on suicide. It will be only has-
tening his fate. Morally he had committed it when he made
his decision. He is rescued, however, by Sir Roderick, who has
a way of turning up at critical moments. He persuades Staf-
ford, whose intellectual belief remains precisely what it was,
that life still contains something for him, and that as the church
suits him best, he ought to make himself something to live for
in " your own church or another. I've often wondered why
you don't try the other." " I've been very near trying it before
now," returns Stafford. " It's a splendid field. Glorious ! " says
Ayre. " You might do anything."

Mr. Hope, who goes into detail and analysis so often, omits
any that may have occurred to him concerning the processes in
Stafford's mind between this conversation and the news, an-
nounced just before Claudia's wedding, that he " has joined the
Church of Rome."

Morewood grunted angrily. " Did you tell him to ? " he
asked Ayre.

" No ; I think I referred to it."

" Do you suppose he's honest ? " Morewood went on.

" Why not ? " asked Eugene. " I could never make out why
he didn't go before. What do you say, Ayre ? "

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 303

" Oh ! I expect he's honest enough ; and it's a splendid field
for him," he answered, repeating the argument he had urged to
Stafford himself.

" Ayre," said Morewood aggressively, " you've driven that
young man to perdition."

" Bosh ! " said Ayre. " He's not a sheep to be driven, and
Rome isn't perdition."

To Claudia, when she asks what it means, Ayre says :

" Mind, I may be wrong ; I may do him injustice, but I
think'

" Yes ? " she said impatiently.

" I think, Lady Claudia, you have spoilt a Saint and made a
Cardinal ! "

And so ends a novel so skilfully contrived as to produce all
the emotions and the suspense awakened by the sight of a great
struggle carried on at the verge of a precipice, and at the same
time to keep the fact before the reader's mind that the contes-
tants are made of pasteboard, and the bottom of the precipice
only a step below the stage. It is an exceedingly clever piece
of work in more ways than one, but its special achievement,
to our mind, is that we have just noted.

I. THE WESTERN SCHISM.*

The title of this little pamphlet of thirty-two pages tells
what- is its topic in general terms. Its particular object is to
prove the certain legitimacy of the election of Urban VI. and
the succession to the rightful possession of the Roman See of
the line of popes who followed him, down to Gregory XII. in-
clusively. From this position follows necessarily the rejection of
the pretenders of Avignon and Pisa as anti-popes.

The occasion of the pamphlet is the publication of a work on
the same subject, written in an opposite sense, by the Abbe
Gayet ; of a review of the same in the Catholic Quarterly Review
of January, 1891, and of a long article by M. Valois in La Revue
des Questions Historiques for October, 1890. M. Valois is less
categorical and more reserved in the expression of his convic-
tion of the legitimacy of Urban's election than is Dr. Brann.
Nevertheless, he shows plainly enough what his conviction is,
and has arrayed a mass of proofs to sustain it which presents a
very strong front to his opponents.

Dr. Brann's argument is succinct, but very clearly and ably

* The Schism of the West and the Freedom of Papal Elections. By Rev. Henry A. Brann,
D.D., LL.D., Rector of St. Agnes's Church, New York. New York, Cincinnati, and Chicago :
Benziger Brothers.

304 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

presented. We have always held the opinion which he advocates,
and have seen no reason to change it. The want of due and
general information concerning the rival claims of Urban VI.
and Cardinal Robert of Geneva excuses the adherents of the
latter from formal schism, and for similar reasons the members
of the Council of Pisa and its adherents must be likewise held
guiltless. The complexity of the question makes even now a
sincere and plausible plea possible to the Catholic opponents of
Urban VI. and Gregory XII. The lack of any formal decision
of the church leaves the question, in point of fact and in a
technical sense, an open one.

Nevertheless, it appears to our mind sufficiently clear, that
the universal judgment of the church, and specifically that of the
Council of Constance, has practically determined the question in
favor of Gregory XII. and his immediate predecessors, from
Gregory XL down the Roman line. The rival lines of Avignon
and Pisa came to a disastrous and disgraceful end. Peter de
Luna and Balthassar Cossa w r ere rejected and abandoned by the
universal church. Gregory XII. was treated with honor and re-
spect. The great diet or congress of Constance submitted to be
convoked by him as an oecumenical council, to be presided over
by his legates, and to receive his authorization to proceed, after
the acceptance of the resignation which he tendered, to an elec-
tion in an unusual mode. The Council of Constance owes its
undoubted character as oecumenical to the convocation of Gregory
XII. and the subsequent confirmation of Martin V. The canoni-
cal regularity, though we may not venture to say the validity, of
the election of Pope Martin is dependent on the right of Greg-
ory XII. to sanction the mode in which it was accomplished.

The history of the Papacy from Clement V. to Martin V. is,
in one aspect, reassuring. Seeing the vicissitudes and perils of
the See of Peter during that period, and the wonderful provi-
dence of God in its preservation and final triumph, we are en-
couraged to hope for a deliverance of the Sovereign Pontiff, the
Roman Church, and Catholic Christendom from present troubles
and menacing dangers.

2. RATIONAL PHILOSOPHY.*

This is the final volume, completing the Stonyhurst Series of
Manuals of Catholic Philosophy. These Manuals have been re-
ceiving welcome and praise on all hands, since their appearance ;

* Manuals of Catholic Philosophy. Natural Theology, by Bernard Boedder, S. J. New
York, Cincinnati, and Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 305

and they have been honored by the high appreciation of the
Sovereign Pontiff. What most clearly shows their opportune-
ness and excellence is the fact that they are becoming favorite
volumes of our studious youth, even those who make their regu-
lar course in Latin text-books.

Father Boedder's Natural Theology is written in a very lucid
and attractive style of pure English, and his treatment of his
topics is logical, well-reasoned, excellent in its order and
arrangement.

The First Book treats of the existence of God. The first
chapter contains a brief but sufficient refutation of the mode of
proving the existence of God proposed by the so-called Ontolo-
gists. Connected with this is an examination of the ontological
argument, or demonstration a priori, sometimes called a simul-
taneo, which is totally dissimilar from the systems of ontologism
contained in the writings of Malebranche, Gioberti, and Rosmini.
The author appears to be inclined to allow considerable force to
the ontological argument, although he denies to it the quality
of a conclusive demonstration. We think he has discussed this
point too superficially, and has not done justice to a line of
argument which, in combination with the argument a posteriori,
adds very much strength to the metaphysical demonstration of
the existence and fundamental attributes of God.

In the second chapter, and those which follow, the author
proceeds to the exposition of the argument ft posteriori, in a
very able and satisfactory manner. Especially noteworthy is the
way in which the author presses into the service of his argu-
ment the admissions of Kant, Wallace, Darwin, Huxley, Tylor,
and others, who are hostile or alien to Catholic philosophy.

In the fourth chapter, section xii., thesis 20, the author
states a proposition to which we cannot agree : " // is not evi-
dent that no creature, whatsoever, can exist from eternity." The
author demonstrates that the actual world and every creature
in it must have had a beginning. However, although he is not
inclined to think a creature existing without succession and
change to be possible, he denies that it can be certainly proved
to be impossible. It seems to us, that a being whose duration
is not measured by time, although receiving existence from God,
must have a duration commensurate with the eternity of God,
i.e., " a simultaneously full and perfect possession of interminable
life." Having possession in act of boundless life, without end
and without beginning, it is a contradiction in terms to suppose
that God can deprive him of it. To imagine that God can
VOL. LIV. 20

306 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

bestow such a gift on a creature seems equivalent to the sup-
position that he can impart the infinite to the finite, divine
attributes to a created substance.

The topics of the other books are treated with an ability
equal to that which is shown in the first. The explanation of
the divine foreknowledge of future, conditioned contingents, we
do not, however, find to be satisfactory. But neither have we
found one more satisfactory elsewhere. Kleutgen has expressed
his dissatisfaction with scientia media as a solution of the pro-
blem, and Cardinal Pecci, with whom Archbishop Satolli is in
agreement, has written more fully in the same sense. We con-
fess to a difficulty in understanding the precise meaning of both
these eminent writers. Perhaps the problem is insoluble.

We have read with pleasure the author's refutation of the
theory of physical predetermination. Here he has the . two
illustrious authors just mentioned entirely on his side, and their
arguments, together with those of some other recent and very
able writers, have very much weakened the position of those
who rest their cause of physical premotion chiefly on the autho-
rity of St. Thomas. This is not a mere curious question of
scholastic discussion in a time, and in places, where the effect
of Calvinism and the determinism of materialists, is disastrous
and must be counteracted. It is most essential, in present cir-
cumstances, to insist on the universality of the grace of Jesus
Christ, and on the freedom of the human will. It is impossible
to do this successfully by following the theology of Bannez and
Billuart. Hence the practical importance of this question, and
the reason for welcoming the prospect of an honorable burial of
physical predetermination in the sepulchre of obsolete theories.

It is superfluous to add that we recommend the entire
Stonyhurst Series in a special manner to our studious youth,
both lay and clerical.

3. A LIFE OF CHRIST.*

It may be asked why another Life of Christ should be pub-
lished when we have the admirable work of Father Fouard, and
a translation of another celebrated work of the same kind
.by Father Didon. A glance at the present volume will show
that the question is irrelevant. It is not, like the works above
mentioned and similai ones by. other authors, a life narrated by

* The Life of Jesus Christ according to the Gospel History. By Rev. A. J. Maas, S.J.,
Professor of Oriental Languages in Woodstock College. St. Louis : B. Herder.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 307

the writer in his own language. It is a harmony of the Gos-
pels, with a running commentary in notes at the foot of the
pages. The text is the Gospel history pure and simple. The
arrangement, the introduction, and the notes are the author's
work. The harmonizing has been made according to the best
authorities. The commentary is full of the most useful and in-
teresting information about everything which can suggest ques-
tions to the reader, and which he would desire to have explained.
In regard to those points which are not certainly determined by
critics and expositors, the author contents himself, as a rule,
with a presentation of the several different opinions advocated by
good authorities, and the reasons on each side. An excellent
introductory essay gives an account of the authors and periods
of the four Gospels, and the proofs of their authenticity. The
gospel text is taken from an edition of a recension of the New
Testament of Rheims, approved by the Archbishop of Baltimore
and published by the Catholic Publication Society. It is, of
course, a faithful version and quite sufficient for practical pur-
poses. We need, however, a better English version of the Bible
than any we have. A separate publication of the Psalter and
Scripture Lessons in the Marquess of Bute's Breviary could go
far to supply the want. We have no hope, however, that any
suggestions we may make on this head will receive any atten-
tion. All proposals and attempts at a perfect English version of
the Bible seem doomed to disappointment. Nevertheless, one
who reads our common English Bible is just as safe from any
error of consequence as if he read the original texts.

The style of printing in this book is good and convenient for
the reader. It reflects credit on the printing-office of the Catho-
lic Protectory, where the work was done.

This excellent Harmony and Commentary ought to be in
every Catholic family in the English-speaking world. Certainly,
all ought to read the Gospels, the most precious part of the
best of books. Father Maas's Life of Christ gives them in the
best form and with the most instructive explanations for general
reading ever issued from the Catholic press. Undoubtedly, it
will very soon come into universal use and be everywhere prized
as it deserves.

308 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ALL COMMUNICATIONS RELATING TO READING CIRCLES, LISTS OF BOOKS,
ETC., 'SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, NO.
415 WEST FIFTY-NINTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY.

THE literary associates and supporters of St. Anselm's Society
were lately called together for a special meeting at the Arch-
bishop's House, Westminster. From the report of the secretary,
Mr. W. M. Hunnybun, we learn that the original plan of this
society was to prepare lists of books that could be safely read,
to be selected from Catholic works and such others as had been
found to contain profitable reading. Every encouragement was
given to the formation of parochial libraries by securing reduced
rates in the purchase of books. The society could not promise
greater reduction in the price of books than was offered by book-
sellers generally, except by the aid of special donations, which
were not always to be obtained.

The need of St. Anselm's Society may be judged by the fact
that the information which it gathers concerning the best books
has been eagerly sought for by managers of libraries and intelli-
gent readers generally. It has done much, largely through the
personal service of generous ladies, for the diffusion of good
literature in prisons, hospitals, and workhouses. Soldiers and
sailors have also been assisted in obtaining suitable reading for
libraries on board ship and in the military garrisons. This is
noiseless work mainly conducted by letters, and, though unseen
by the public at large, it must have a most beneficial result in
correcting the tendency to careless or vicious reading.
* * *

Cardinal Manning declares that the work of St. Anselm's
Society is of very great importance to the church. " The
clergy," he says, "are often asked whether they can recommend
a book on such and such a subject, or whether a certain book
can be recommended for reading. It is impossible for us to
read everything ; and it is therefore of great importance to have
some guide or test, such as St. Anselm's Society gives us, to
know which books can be pronounced, in the opinion of com-
petent persons, to be safe. We are in a country where the
enormous multitude of publications every year is 'constantly in-
creasing. It is impossible for Catholics to read only books

1891.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 309

written by Catholic authors. We are compelled to see continu-
ally all manner of books. St. Anselm's Society performs an ex-
ceedingly valuable function in testing and giving its testimonial
to such books as will well repay reading.''

x- # *

The Duke of Norfolk endorsed the good work in these
words :

" Not only in the public libraries, but at every railway sta-
tion, and, in fact, everywhere we go, we see how, more and
more, the country is being flooded with literature, and as the
increase of education goes on, while people will benefit from the
spread of literature, it is to be remembered that there are
dangers which are inseparable from those benefits. That being
the case, it is exceedingly desirable that Catholics should turn
the current to good account rather than to evil. Now, this so-
ciety, in the first place, puts it into the power of those who have
to provide literature for others to know where they may find
wholesome literature, and where, on the other hand, they may
avoid what is poisonous and dangerous. That is, in itself, a very
good and important work, although it is not as far-reaching as
some of its other aims. We then come to the point of those
who have to select a literature for themselves ; and there I con-
fess rather a sneaking sympathy with the priest and I am very
glad to be able to quote a priest on my side who said, when
he was told that the society was to provide good books for
people, that people do not want good books. I think that is the
feeling in the minds of a great many people. It is rather dis-
agreeable to tell them that the bad books are there and must
not be read, and that good books must be thrust down their
throats. It is very sad that this should be so, no doubt. At
the same time, the very fact of the existence of the society re-
minds us that the selection of the literature we study is a matter
of great importance ; and it also takes away from us the excuse
that we really must read the bad books first to find whether
they are good or bad. This society comes forward to perform
that perilous task for us, and to assure us that the books it
passes are wholesome and may be read with profit. I think
those are the chief objects the society has in view; and I think
that the two points which ought chiefly to animate us to zeal in
its support are, firstly, its immense importance, and, secondly, the
difficulty of pushing it to a successful issue. There is no obvious
hostility to be overcome ; but we have to cope with the silent
tendency of the age, which unhappily appeals to our nature. I
think-, undoubtedly, in proportion as this society pushes to the
front and brings the objects it has at heart into practical utility,
a great work will be done for the church, and, indirectly, for the
people of this country at large. I think all who consider the
matter carefully will feel that that is the case, and I trust that
all here will not only do all they can, but will urge upon others
the importance of a work which, if it be not pushed before

310 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov.,

peoples' minds strenuously and persistently, is in great danger of
being forgotten ; but if pushed forward with zeal and success
will do a very great work and one of lasting good."
* * *

The Marquis of Ripon attended the meeting of St. Anselm's
Society and moved this resolution :

" Since the power of the Press is only second to the power
of the Church of God in influencing the opinions and conduct of
men, it is of the first consequence that this power should be ex-
erted and directed in the cause of Christian faith and purity, and
the advancement of sound learning."

" The assertions contained in the resolution," said the Mar-
quis of Ripon, " are almost self-evident. No one, I am sure, will
contest the power of the press in the times in which we live ;
and I do not think the resolution can be charged with delusions
even when placing the power of the press in the high position
accorded to it. I am sure that none of you will doubt, if the
power of the press be as great as the resolution affirms it to be,
that it should be exerted and directed in the cause of Christian
faith and purity, and the advancement of sound learning. We
are all of us convinced that we could give no better advice to
any young persons who ask us upon entering life what they
should do, than to seek to enter into communication with good
companions. Well, it has been said with truth and never in
any period of history was it more true than at the present time
that books are in a high degree our companions. And if it be
desirable to seek for good companions, then it is certainly
desirable that we should offer to the young especially the oppor-
tunity of having good books placed in their hands. The torrent
of literature poured out upon us in these days is such that if
the reading of it is to be of use it must be reading which is
directed under guidance. We cannot, happily for us, read all the
books that come forth from the press every year. We must
make a choice, and anything that will help to make that choice
a sound one must be of the utmost possible assistance to us.
Therefore, it seems to me that the society, if conducted in a
sound and wise, and I will say a wide spirit, must prove to be
of very great utility. There is another direction in which, it
seems. to me, the society may do a great deal of good: that is
especially in the direction of history and in the explanation of
Catholic practices and doctrines. Nothing surprises me so much,
in reading books not written by Catholics, but written very often
by people of very great ability and very great authority, as to
observe the continual, profound, and startling ignorance in which
men who, one would think, ought to know better, are in regard
to Catholic history and Catholic practices. Men who would be
ashamed to make a mistake in connection with the Athenian
Constitution or the proper succession of the kings of Egypt are
not a bit ashamed when they are found out in some egregious
error in reference to the history and practices of the Catholic

1891.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 311

Church. It is a singular thing that men of education and culti-
vation and knowledge should so continually fall into such ob-
vious blunders in regard to the religion professed by the greatest
number of people of any religion in the world, and it is, there-
fore, most desirable that this society should have the means of
circulating books of the description, to which I have referred."

# * #

As an author and a publisher of long experience Mr. Kegan
Paul is well qualified to give an opinion on the diffusion of liter-
ature. He spoke as follows :

" So far as I have been able to know the work of St. Anselm's
Society, it is one that commends itself to every Catholic. Its
function is to put good literature in the place of evil, and to
place it within the reach of everybody; to drive out, if it be
possible, evil literature by good. Now, I have a very strong be-
lief that if there is much evil literature read in these days and
that there is can hardly be doubted it is not because people
love evil literature, but because the good is not put before them
in sufficient quantities. There are a great many very good books
which, it must be said, are somewhat dull, and there are a great
many bad books that are extremely lively. What we have to do
is to bring out, as far as possible, good books that are at the
same time interesting. The books that are put before the
readers and supporters of this society are not always, I will say,
necessarily lively, but such books as one can read with interest.
I think the society is doing a very good and a very noble work.
It needs support, and it ought to, and I believe it will, receive
it when its objects are more fully known."

Besides endorsing the general plan of St. Anselm's Society
Mr. Wilfrid Ward suggested that Catholic queries might be
taken up more extensively.

" There are," he said, " many points of interest, both to
Catholics and to non-Catholics, who are anxious upon the points
of Catholic doctrine and Catholic history, upon which, no doubt,
you can get information in large books, which, perhaps, persons
have not very much time to trouble about. If they have a rec-
ognized body with which they can communicate, and to which
they can send questions, it might be very useful indeed, particu-
larly in view of the great ignorance on points of Catholic doc-
trine displayed by non-Catholics, referred to by Lord Ripon.
There are many practical questions as to historical, liturgical, and
even doctrinal questions, which Catholics themselves are often
uninformed upon, and to whom such a publication would be
very useful. That is only, I think, an additional reason for our
rallying to the support of the society."

* -x *

Father Bridgett ventured the opinion that since the Catholics
of England became mingled in the general society of the coun-

3i2 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov.,

try less interest has been taken than formerly in the spread of
Catholic books. If those who have come later into the Church
would read what has been done in former times they would be
incited to greater efforts.

" We are," said Father Bridgett, " doing nothing compared
with what was done in the penal times, when books came out
year by year and went through three or four editions. Why,
we are lagging behind and doing nothing compared with what
has been done in the last three hundred years. Therefore, I
always feel the deepest interest in St. Anselm's Society, because
it is simply carrying on the old work. The resolution says that
* the power of the Press is only second to the power of the
Church of God,' but I would say that it is a part of the power
of the Church of God. It is not distinct from it. That is to
say, the church cannot be without it. I do not say that the
church could not exist for a time in the country without the
press ; but certainly it never has done, and you cannot conceive
a state in which it could not use the press. It is one of its ad-
juncts. However, there is no doubt that the power of the press,
even as it is understood here, extends the direct power of the
church, and is in that sense second to it."

We extend our hearty congratulations to the Very Rev. Pro-
vost Wenham on the successful results produced under his di-
rection by St. Anselm's Society. The workers in the same
cause on this side of the Atlantic are particularly grateful to
him for having arranged to get for his special meeting positive
declarations on vital points connected with Catholic literature
from some of the leading minds of England. The same condi-
tions prevail in America, and the problem of making a good
use of our literary opportunities must be discussed on the same
lines. Prominent Catholics who fail to do anything for the sup-
port of Catholic literature are blind to the best interests of the
church. Intelligent zeal should prompt them to assist in direct-
ing the publications of the press for the welfare of religion, as
well as for their own mental improvement. Good books pene-
trate where the voice of the preacher can never reach. They
can be used to supply an effectual antidote to the literature now
extensively circulated, which is exerting a most dangerous influ-
ence against sound faith and true morality. By indiscriminate
reading many are brought into direct contact with minds dis-
eased and darkened by the spirit of modern unbelief.

M. C. M.

1891.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 313

WITH THE PUBLISHER.

WHILE the Publisher must again regret the narrow limits of
his department in this issue, he must frankly declare that his
call for evidences of renewed activity in the work of the maga-
zine has not been seconded with the enthusiasm he expected.
He has met with some response, and with response that went a
long way in quality to make up for his disappointment in quan-
tity. Perhaps the past has spoiled him in the experience he
then had of the answers that followed every appeal ; perhaps,
too, the stirring events in the political world claim the greater
attention of the moment, and perhaps and he confesses it looks
like it there are people who think he has made too many such
appeals already, and should now harp on some other string.

But, dear reader, he won't touch another string ; Oliver Twist
in his demands for more is far less insatiable than this Pub-
lisher. Why, the plain truth is that he cannot have an alterna-
tive. If you knew all the schemes he has in the back of his
head, far from finding fault with his persistence, you would
rather marvel at his self-restraint, and wonder why he neglects
to put dynamite in his paragraphs. Why, when he built THE
COLUMBUS PRESS and gave the magazine a local habitation of
its own, it wasn't his plan to sit back in his chair and listen to
congratulations ; it was a great step, no doubt, and if congratu-
lations were in order, they were due to his readers, not to him.
He had all his work still before him. THE CATHOLIC WORLD
had better equipment, but its new conditions meant an easier
and more rapid movement towards the realization of its mis-
sion ; it was not a call to halt, nor was it a grand review after
victory. That great victory is still to come. And lest any should
forget it, the Publisher repeats it, that victory largely rests

with our readers.

It is the Cause of Truth that made THE CATHOLIC WORLD.
That cause has your allegiance ; your reverence for it, your
loyalty, forbids the thought that it demands your service ; you
rather hasten to give it, cheerfully, generously, with the know-
ledge that such service brings you honor. The only question
with you is to determine the channel through which you can

WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Nov.,

render the best and the widest service. And it does not require
very prolonged reasoning to make you see that this service is
best rendered through literature. It won't take you long to see
how much depends upon the reader to secure the aims of any

cause that invokes the press for its aid.

_ .

The grain of mustard-seed of one man's example is already
showing signs that it has taken root in favorable soil. The
gentleman who sent a year's subscription for THE CATHOLIC
WORLD, to be sent " where it will do the most good," is begin-
ing to gather followers in his missionary zeal. Facts have been
powerful as persuaders, for there are now eight subscribers who
have imitated his example. One of these sends with the sub-
scription a letter which my readers will grant ought to be given
to our public:

" BOSTON, Oct. 12, 1891.

" DEAR REVEREND SIR : Talking Fact, in the third paragraph
of "With the Publisher" in THE CATHOLIC WORLD for Octo
ber, is persuasive.

" Herewith is a single subscription, $4, for the coming year,
the magazine to be sent by the Publisher where he believes it
will do good. . . . Put Talking Fact to the front as a
file-leader, and extend the column " devoted to the same mis-
sion " to regimental numbers. It is an effective way for the
Home Guard to send out recruits, to do a service distinctly of
the virtue of the charity of Christ, of love of God and man.
Publisher, bid for a regiment ! "

We know our readers will agree with the Publisher that this
letter is the very best "Talking Fact."

Macmillan & Co. announce The Browning Cyclopcedia, by
Dr. Edward Berdoe, an active member of the Browning Society.
The volume will treat of all of the poet's works, and will con-
tain a commentary on every poem with explanations of all ob-
scurities and difficulties arising from the classical allusions, legends,
archaic phraseology, and curious out-of-the-way terminology which
makes Browning so difficult for the ordinary reader. The Pub-
lisher is one of them and hails the Cyclopaedia as a boon.
Hitherto his bouts with Browning have been, he confesses with
sorrow, rich in experiences of the kind that brought such trouble
to Mr. Gilead P. Beck of The Golden Butterfly.

The same firm announces two new volumes of essays by
E. A. Freeman, historical and miscellaneous; The Present State
of the Fine Arts in France, by P. G. Hamerton ; a popular
account of the whole series of Dr. Schliemann's excavations and

1891.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 315

their results, from the German of Dr. Carl Shuchhardt ; England
and the English in the Eighteenth Century : Chapters in the
Social History of the Times, by Wm. Connor Sidney; and Mah-
diism and the Soudan : An Account of the Rise and Pro-
gress of Mahdiism, and of the subsequent events in the Soudan
up to the present time, by Major F. R. Wingate. This book is
compiled from official sources, and gives the fullest possible de-
tails of the fall of Kartoum.

D. Appleton & Co. have just issued an English translation
of Pere Did on 's Life of Jesus Christ, the sale of which was so
phenomenal in France. The work in its English dress has been
edited by Mgr. O'Reilly, and Cardinal Gibbons contributes a
preface.

The Catholic Publication Society Co. has just published :

The Illustrated Catholic Family Annual for 1892 (Colum-
bus number).

The Temporal Power of the Pope : " Definable or Indefina-
ble." A reply to criticism. By the author of Civil
Principality.

A Short Sketch of Father Albany James Christie -, S.J. By
Rev. Richard F. Clarke, S.J., with portrait of Father
Christie from a recent photograph.

The same firm has in preparation :

Frequent Communion. By Father Joseph Hube. Translated
by Rev. Charles Barchi, S.J.

Benziger Brothers' new publications are :

Help for the Poor Souls in Purgatory. Prayers and Devo-
tions in aid of the Suffering Souls. Edited by Rev. F.
B. Luebbermann, Editor of The Poor Souls Advocate.

The Schism of the West and the Freedom of Papal Elec-
tions. By Rev. Henry A. Brann, D.D., LL.D., Rector
of St. Agnes's Church, New York.

They have in preparation, to be issued shortly :

An Explanation of the "Baltimore Catechism of Christian
Doctrine." For the use of teachers and advanced classes.
By Rev. Thomas \>. Kinkead.

The Correct Thing for Catholics.

Birthday Souvenir, or Diary. With a Subject of Prayer or
Meditation for every day in the year.

Tom Play fair ; or, Making a Start. By Francis J. Finn,
S.J., author of " Percy Wynn," etc.

The Little Altar-Boy s Manual. Instructions for serving at
Mass, Vespers, Benediction, etc., with the Proper Re-
sponses. With Morning and Evening Prayers, Prayers at
Mass, etc. With the imprimatur of the Most Rev.
Archbishop of New York.

316 BOOKS RECEIVED. [Nov., 1891.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

LA THEOLOGIE POPULAIRE DE N.-S. JESUS CHRIST. Par
1'Abbe E. Le Camus. Paris : Letouzey et An.

WHITE SLAVES ; OR, THE OPPRESSION OF THE WORTHY POOR.
By the Rev. L. A. Banks, D.D. Boston : Lee & Shepard.

LADY JANE. By Mrs. C. V. Jamison. New York : The Century
Co.

PHILLIPS BROOKS. By Newell Dunbar. Boston : J. G. Cupples.

ON THE BORDER WITH CROOK. By John G. Bourke. New
York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE DIVORCE OF CATHERINE OF ARAGON. By J. A. Froude.
New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE BEING OF GOD AS UNITY AND TRINITY. By P. H. Steen-
stra, D.D. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mifflin &
Co.

THE WILL OF GOD. By J. Hillegeer, S.J. Baltimore : John
Murphy & Co.

THE USE AND ABUSE OF MONEY. By W. Cunningham, D.D.
New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE LITERATURE OF THE OLD TESTA-
MENT. By S. R. Driner, D.D. New York: Charles Scrib-
ner's Sons.

GOLDEN JUBILEE CELEBRATION OF THE RIGHT REV. JOHN
LOUGHLIN, D.D., FIRST BISHOP OF BROOKLYN. By the
Rev. James H. Mitchell, A.M. Brooklyn : Golden Jubilee
Committee ; M. F. Welply, 274 Fulton St.

JESUS CHRIST: OUR SAVIOUR'S PERSON, MISSION, AND SPIRIT.
From the French of the Rev. Father Didon, O.P. New
York: D. Appleton & Co.

PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.

FOURTH ANNUAL REPORT OF THE SCHOOL BOARD OF THE

DIOCESE OF LEAVENWORTH. Leavenworth : Reyburn &

Brogan.
RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR THE PAROCHIAL SCHOOLS OF

THE DIOCESE OF LEAVENWORTH. Leavenworth : Reyburn

& Brogan.
PURGATORY. By the Rev. Henry A. Brann, D.D. St. Paul,

Minn. : The Catholic Truth Society.

BRAZIL. Washington, D. C. : Bureau South American Republics.
CARMEN JUBILARE. Buffalo : Catholic Publication Society.
HIGHER EDUCATION IN INDIANA. By J. A. Woodburn, Ph.D.

Washington : Government Printing-Office.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LIV. DECEMBER, 1891. No. 321.

THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS.

Now, madame, a story this Christmas afternoon, if you
please ; your own story. Nay, do not expostulate ! What story
could so interest an old friend ? It still wants an hour till mon-
sieur your husband and the boys return from the matinee. You
have time.

It is so droll to relate of myself! But, as monsieur wishes,
so be it. All that I will tell is true, and of the truth. Why
say I this? It is so trivial, monsieur cannot doubt.

Ten years ago to-day, of a Christmas morning, at the Aurora
Mass, I met Franois I and the grand-mtre, and the good M.
and Mme. Robert, who have the boulangerie over which we did
live. Ah, monsieur, you smile at my English ! Good ! I will tell
my story in French. If I could speak monsieur's great language
as he speaks the French But I must not desire all things.

As I said, we four met at the Aurora Mass, and as we as-
cended the steps of the cathedral a young man, who carried a
violin-case, stopped to greet our good friends the baker and his
wife. Grandmother was for pressing on through the crowd
when Mme. Robert would have introduced to us the young
man, whom she called M. Francois Malan. But madame was
persistent, and when grandmother recognized how respectful M.
Malan was to her, and how he was in awe of me, she was re-
conciled. And monsieur need not laugh ! It is quite true that
he was in awe of me, and monsieur will not deny that he is hand-
some. That I saw, though I kept my eyes down and did not
appear to look him in the face while he told us that he was
to have a part in the orchestra at the Mass.

The good God will forgive me, but the music was very beau-
tiful that Christmas morning ten years ago !

3i8 THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. [Dec.,

When I went down to the bake-house towards nightfall to
fetch our little dinner, I remarked to Mme. Robert that the
violins at Mass were not in accordance.

"You must have been asleep, mademoiselle," retorted mad-
ame. " M. Malan not to know how to play ! " and she banged
to the oven-door.

" But there were others," I said. " And this M. Malan, he
is a boy ! "

Madame put her hands on her hips and nodded her head
vigorously. " M. Malan," she said, " is first violin at the French
opera."

I drew in my breath. First in my reverence was the good
God and our Lady, then grandmother, and then music. For,
monsieur, I had a voice, yes.

" Is he the one you said might get me place in the chorus ? "
I asked, abashed.

Madame nodded her head. " He is a good boy, mademoi-
selle. I have known him always ; he is my godchild."

Again I drew in my breath. " Madame, you must never
speak to M. Malan of my desire to enter the chorus. I forbid
you," I commanded.

Madame stared at me, amazed ; and I took up the pan of
bread and meat, and went up the stairs slowly to grandmother.

Monsieur must understand that I desired to be in the chorus
not for itself, but for the picayunes it would bring to grand-
mother. Monsieur is a -man of affairs, and he knows that one
cannot live well on one hundred and eighty dollars a year, and
that is all we received for the rent of the Auriculas, the little
place left us out of the dead past. And here I may tell you
that I had never seen my father, my mother died when I was
a child, and that I only knew grandmother, and grandmother
very poor, but never stouter of heart than on this Christmas
day of 1879.

I thought of her poverty, and of the music at the cathedral,
and a little of M. Malan, and I suppose I looked sorrowful, for
grandmother asked me why I was sad. I laughed and told her
some of the truth. " I think much of what I am to do ; I am
eighteen," I said.

" You can sew, my Irene," she suggested.

Monsieur, I confess it! I can cook I adore to cook! But
to sew I detest to sew! I sighed and looked out on the
bright sky, and said under my breath, " I have a voice, grand-
mother."

1891.] THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. 319

"Yes," she smiled; "and you will sing to me after dinner."

At this I took heart and said boldly : * I have spoken to
Father Rosseau, and he says if it is the will of the good God
so it will be ; and we must have wherewith to live, and I can
gain heaven there as well as elsewhere if my intention is pure ;
and to have a voice is a gift of the good God and, grand-
mother, I would sing in the chorus at the French opera." Just
so did the words fly from my lips.

She laid aside her napkin and rested her hands on the edge
of the table. " Little one," she said softly, " I do not say I
wish this otherwise than as is the will of the good God. Have
you spoken of your desire to any other than Father Rosseau ? "

" To Mme. Robert," I replied.

" And you had no trust in me, Irene, my little one ! " she
exclaimed.

Ah, how sad that made me ! I wept, monsieur, yes ; and I
begged to be forgiven, saying I feared that she would oppose
me.

" Will the old bird refuse to let its young eat ? " she asked.

But for all her courage and gentleness, I knew her heart was
troubled. And what a web of wrinkles that ugly spider, trouble,
had woven over grandmother's face. But the good God kept her
heart sweet!

While I cleared the dinner-table, we talked over and settled
how I was to make my application to the chorus-master. I did
not speak to grandmother of M. Malan, although I knew from
what Mme. Robert had told me that his influence with the mas-
ter was great.

We had so much to talk about, serious talk concerning my
future, that it was late before grandmother was ready to take
her after-dinner nap. Then, when she lay back in her chair, I
sung to her as was my custom ; on this occasion choosing my
softest song, one she loved to hear from that forgotten opera,
Petite et Blanche, by the forgotten Charpentier. The apostrophe
to the south wind :

" South Wind, O South Wind, sweet is thy breath !

Thou singest of life, never of death ;
Thou singest to me the silvery psalms
Sung by an angel who dwells 'mong the palms;
Sung by an angel whose silvery psalms
Thou hf ngest laden with fragrance from the fair land of palms. 1 '

And repeat ; and, monsieur, all my voice is not lost ? If you
think so, then it is because you are old and blase".
VOL. LIV. 21

320 THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. [Dec.,

Believe me ! all the time I sung I thought of the violin I
had heard that morning. But Francois must not know this, for,
monsieur, he is vain, you are vain, all men are vain !

On the Monday after Christmas we grandmother and my-
self went to the early Mass to commend me and my pur-
pose to the good God and our Lady. I did not realize the
seriousness of the step I was about to take, but grandmother,
yes. And on our way to the Opera House, as we went down
the old street so quiet, so dear to every Lousianian, she held my
hand in hers and whispered: "You are such a little one, and
your hand is small and your heart is big. Irene, your father
and your father's fathers were honest and honorable ; make your
heart and your hand strong with prayer; always, always with
prayer, that the little hand and the big heart be honest and
true, honest and true ! "

She almost made me weep, she did ; and for answer I held
her hand warm and tight.

My heart was very small when I stood in the presence of the
men before whom I was to try my voice. The manager to
whom we had applied had been respectful in his manner, but
discouraging. " So many think they can sing," he said. And
then he took us to a room which contained a piano and elegant
furniture, and about which sat a number of men smoking. In
my ignorance I had supposed I would sing accompanied by the
orchestra, and I dreaded meeting M. Malan. Therefore it was
a relief when I heard the manager request one whom he called
" Henri" to accompany me on the piano. At first, though what
he played was the simple air of " In the Desert," my voice trem-
bled, but presently love touched my lips, for I thought of grand-
mother, and how I would make her last days comfortable, and
then I sung as I had never sung before.

" If, monsieur/' I said to the manager when the song ended
oh ! I was bold " if Mme. Chevreuil could be permitted to ac-
company me ? "

He did not look pleased. " The last was quite good," he
said ; " M. Henri will continue."

I was infuriated. "Ah, monsieur of Paris," I thought, "you
think me little, but I shall conquer you ! " And I sang.

It was nothing to me that they clapped their hands, that they
cried "Encore!" But it was victory when monsieur of Paris
bowed to grandmother profoundly, and implored Mme. Chevreuil
to accompany me.

"What shall it be?" she whispered.

1891.] THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. 321

"The 'South Wind/" I answered.

There was so much smoke in the room ! I wished to puri-
fy it.

It is enough to say that I was engaged for the chorus at a
small salary that seemed to me large. I sang night after night,
often as close to M. Malan as I am now to you, monsieur. At
last I was given a small part, and on the night of my first ap-
pearance in it Francois gave me the flowers you see preserved
in the frame above your head. Before that he had been in the
habit of bowing to me when we met, but we never paused to
converse.

Now that I had a part, I was almost a grand madame, and
so hired Diane, Mme. Robert's black maid, to attend me to and
from the Opera House. This I did to please grandmother, not
because it was necessary; for, in all my experience of the stage
I was treated not alone with respect but with consideration.
Perhaps because I am so little ; eh, monsieur ? But I think it
was because I respected myself.

One morning there was to be a grand rehearsal of a new
opera, with the full orchestra present. I had taken my place,
and was thinking to myself whether I could not afford grand-
mother an unusual treat by way of a dinner at the lake, when
M. Malan crossed the stage. He was about to pass me with a
bow, but something made him change his mind, and, with some
hesitation, he said : " I congratulate mademoiselle with her
permission ? "

Instead of replying I said : " I wish to thank monsieur for
the flowers he gave me the other night."

" It was too much of a condescension in mademoiselle to
accept them," he answered, and Has monsieur ever seen Fran-
gois blush ?

"Was it?" I asked. "For a truth I don't know; no one
ever before thought to give me flowers."

He was about to speak when the manager gave the command
for us to put ourselves in readiness to begin. I was provoked,
yes ! I wished to hear what he would say. I have asked him
since what it was, and he says : " Why, little one, I have for-
gotten." Forgotten! O you men, you men!

A few days after M. Malan came to our lodgings and asked
for Mme. Chevreuil. Madame! it makes me laugh even now.
He was in distress at having to disturb madame, but mademoi-
selle her granddaughter had forgotten a roll of music at the
Opera House "Ah ! " he exclaimed, " but mademoiselle is here."

322 THE PIROGUE OF FHE AURICULAS. [Dec.,

O Frangois, Frangois, the hypocrite ! I should have distrusted a
man who could feign so well.

Yes, I was there, sewing ; and so busy I could scarce lift my
eyes to thank him and say that he need not have troubled
to bring the music to me, as he must have known I did not
need it. He looked so sad when I said this that in an in-
stant I repented, and added, " But monsieur has his violin."

His eyes were almost too grateful. However, it was of grand-
mother he asked permission to play. He is proud of his genius
for the violin. That, I grant, he has a right to be. After he
laid aside the violin, he sat and talked with grandmother, and I
listened, continuing to sew. All I could say was yes and no,
piping like a little bird and quite as innocent.

When he had left us I waited for grandmother to express
her opinion. She said nothing. I talked about everything that
would lead her to tell me what she thought of him, and she
remained silent. At last I asked, gazing out of the window :
" What do you think of M. Malan, grandmother ? "

She laughed and said, " Come here, little one " ; and I went
and knelt beside her arm-chair, and hid my face in her arm.

"What do I think of M. Malan?" she said. "He is a great
rosy-cheeked boy but he plays divinely."

Then I knew she was pleased, and I kissed her and ran
away to my room.

He came again, and again, and again ; and although we
never spoke of love, I knew that he loved me, and he knew
that I loved him. I had become quite famous, and the' season
was drawing to a close, when Frangois asked to speak to
madame, my grandmother, alone. I waited in my room, know-
ing what he was saying, but not knowing what she would answer ;
therefore the time seemed long. Very long it had grown to me
when Diane came to say that Mme. Chevreuil wished to see Mile.
Irene in the little salon.

I looked at his face to see what it would say, and what I
saw made my heart leap, and I said, quite under my breath,
" Frangois ! "

Does monsieur think I was too ready to be won ? Let him
think how dear I am to Frangois before he answers that question.

He caught my hands and led me to grandmother, who made
us kneel, one on each side of her. She rested her hands lightly
on us for a moment, saying nothing ; her silence speaking much.
Then she bade us cheerily to be seated, and our tongues were
loosed, finding so much to say that we almost talked together.

1891.] THE PIROGUE OF THE 'AURICULAS. 323

Frangois was much surprised when he heard I would have a
dower, our little place of the Auriculas. He called me a queen
with territorial rights, and himself a poor troubadour. Frangois
is such a droll boy ! It was at this time, as well, that it was
decided that I was to leave the stage. Was I glad of this ? In
truth I was. I adored music, but I cared more to have a
little home with Frangois and grandmother than to be as great
as Mile. Blanche Servain. Encore is sweet to hear, but to my
ears maman is of heaven.

One morning at our Lady's altar there was a Mass in white,
and in the presence of M. and Mme. Robert and grandmother
we were wed, and Father Rosseau gave us the blessing that has
never, never left myself and Frangois. We have never had
sorrow ? Listen, and then answer for yourself. But the blessing
was with us always, always.

At the time of our marriage, as it is still, the -violin of Fran-
gois was in such demand that we were almost rich. Therefore
it was that he bought this house, not furnishing it all at once,
but little by little, till it is as monsieur now sees it, quite ele-
gant, and I do not hesitate to say, in good taste. This alone
would not satisfy Frangois. " It is not enough that we have a
house in the city," he said ; " we must have a place to spend the
summer when the singers have flown away, and my violin sleeps
and dreams of the glory it is to bring its master. The Auricu-
las no longer has a tenant ; what do you think, Irene ? "

" I think," I replied, " that my boy is lazy " ; and laughed.

" You are one mock-bird ! " cried Frangois in English. (It is
mocking-bird, as monsieur knows. That boy never will speak
English well, though I talk to him the English to tire him to
the correction of his faults.) The end was, that when we had
consulted grandmother we had our way, and Frangois went to
arrange the house of the Auriculas for us to live in. While he
was away grandmother fell ill, and before we could move her to
the country she died. She was eighty-seven when she died,
monsieur ; and how blameless her life, the good God knoweth.
You may well believe that our hearts were sad when we went
to the Auriculas, though we knew she was in Paradise.

" I do not remember my mother, and she was all that to
me," I said to Frangois.

" And my mother died when I was but a baby," said he to
me. The trouble brought us nearer to one another than we
were before. The blessing followed us, monsieur.

It was a pretty place, the Auriculas the house up on a

324 THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. [Dec.,

bluff that stretched out into the Mississippi, forming a little pe-
ninsula. Back of the house was a field and garden, where the
auriculas, the roses, and jasmine grew thick as weeds and plenti-
ful as grass. And further back on the main-land was our field
of sugar-cane, which a Gascon worked for us on shares. From
three sides of the house we could view the river, that is like the
sea for strength and majesty, and for cruelness too. Down the
river, about three-fourths of a mile away, in the sunlight and in
the moonlight, we could look upon the town of Plaquemines.
And when the wind came from there we could hear, like the
buzz of many insects, the hum of the saw-mills and the call of
the men ; the song of the teamsters on the road, the crack of
their whips, the happy laugh of the hands in the fields ; and
wherever the wind, the whistle' of the birds, the singing that is
like no other singing, of the mocking-birds.

We lived quite in state : a negress, Priscille, to cook ; her boy
Tarbon to care for the horse and buggy that carried us to Pla-
quemines, to Mass, and to visit the friends we soon made, and
who all spoke of Frangois as of a planter. That would make
me laugh, for I could but think of the garden when they called
Frangois a planter. For Frangois had worked to make what he
called " harmony " in the garden. The rose must grow in one
place, the narcissus in another, and so on with all the others.
Monsieur, those flowers became enraged, and they grew more
madly wild than before. Then I said, " Frangois, you improve
much on the good God." " You mock-bird !" he cried. He
always says that when I am right and, monsieur, he says it very
often.

For our own pleasure, that no one else could share with us
it was so small, we had our pirogue. A pirogue ? Why, a boat,
shallow, its ends curved like the horns of the moon, and very
light. Imagine a magnolia petal large enough to hold two per-
sons, and you have its weight. And as lightly as a magnolia
petal would float on the water, not less lightly floated our
pirogue.

This same pirogue caused our first dissension, and gave me a
dark hour dark like the wind-clouds that sometimes come close
to the earth, blighting whatever they touch. It happened in this
way. Frangois would call the pirogue Irene, and I would call
it Frangois. " Well," said he, " so it be ; we will call it Fran-
gois." Then the little fool, that is myself, monsieur, thinks : " He
is very ready to call it for himself ; he has become tired of me/
And without a word I went out on the gallery. After a little,

1891.] THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. 325

I heard him get the paint-pot and the brushes, and presently he
called to know if I would come to see him paint on the name.

I tried to call out " No " in a decided tone, but my voice
broke down. In an instant he stood before me, paint-pot in one
hand, brushes in the other. " What is it ? what is it ?" he cried.
I made my heart hard. " Frangois will be a sweet name for the
pirogue," I said, and my foot went so pat, pat ! His eyes be-
came round like an owl's and his jaw fell. Still my foot went
pat, pat ! " I thought you wished it so," he said, and put down
the paint and brushes. " You wanted so P I retorted. His face
became white, and he looked weary, oh, so weary ! Something
touched my heart, and I threw my arms about his neck and hid
my face on his shoulder. He did not embrace me, his arms fell
so, limp. " Francois," I whispered, " please call the pirogue as
you wish."

I thought to hear him say " Irene," but he answered prompt-
ly, " We will call it * The Pirogue of the Auriculas.' "

" I like the name, for a truth," I whispered. I felt him
tremble, but otherwise he did not move.

" You do not call me mock-bird," again I whispered.

" Quack, quack !" he said twice, but I kissed him rather than
he should say it thrice.

That pirogue ! I would get in it cautiously, monsieur cau-
tiously ; a pirogue is easy to upset and Francois would paddle
me up the river or down the river, or up the bayou of Plaque-
mines, but always to some new spot. And sometimes we would
run the boat ashore, alight, and wander in the woods heavy with
perfume ; the woods that would be dark were they not lit up by
the white magnolias and the fire-bushes of crimson azalea. Mon-
sieur, we were young, and we are not yet old.

One day Frangois went out to fish, and I was alone on the
gallery watching his return, when the good God whispered to
me a message I was glad to hear. And even as I listened,
happy tears in my eyes, from Plaquemines came the peal of the
bells ringing the noon-day Angelus ; celebrating the message
that was brought to Mother Mary that, but with greater glory,
was like the message brought that day to me.

How shall I make monsieur comprehend the joy of Francois!
How proud he was ; he seemed to grow before my eyes. And
tender ? Ah, yes ! I was queen supreme, and I might have been
a tyrant, but was not.

The time arrived when Francois was needed in his place in
the orchestra, and we were obliged to separate, for the doctor

326 THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. [Dec.,

would not permit me to return to the city. " It will be best for
madame in every way to remain here," he said. " And for the
angel who is coming, think you not that its first experience
would be more pleasant in the country than in the town ?"

So it happened when she, my little Frances, came to the Au-
riculas, Francois was not there to bid her welcome. The doctor
telegraphed from Plaquemines to tell him of her arrival, and the
next evening he was with us. " What think you of our little
one, our angel, our own, Francois ? " I asked as he knelt by
my side and tried to talk to Frances in my arms. " I think she
has a voice," he replied, and laughed. Did I strike him on the
ear ? Yes. " Does she look like me or you ? She has your eyes,
Francois," I insisted. " My faith ! I think she looks like nothing
but herself," he said and still laughed. But when that boy saw
that I was not strong to be teased, and that I was about to
weep, he told the truth : that he jested, and that Frances was
so beautiful she could look like no one but me. I blushed like
a young girl, but presently, when I took occasion to look in the
mirror, I saw I was pretty, monsieur, yes.

How good our friends were to us I must not pause to tell.
Mme. Robert came from New Orleans to stay awhile, and to be
the godmother of Frances, the doctor the godfather. I could
not go to Plaquemines to the baptism of Frances, but waited on
the gallery with Priscille for her return. And when Francois
brought her back to my arms, I loved my little girl, if possible,
more than I did before. For, not alone was she my child, the
child of Fran5ois, but she was, as well, the child of the good
God.

I now began to desire the time to come when the doctor
would permit me to return to New Orleans. Frangois could not
come to the Auriculas oftener than once in a fortnight, and it
worried me to think that Frances was a stranger to her father.
I teased the doctor to permit me to depart, but he would say:
" When the fine air brings the bloom to madame's cheek."

It was late in November and the air was full of the silken
rustle of the cane falling under the knives of the cutters, and red
with the flamingoes sailing to the most southern marshes. "The
river has risen to such a height that he peeps over the levee
when the wind enrages his bosom," said the doctor to me one
morning. " It is the north wind," I pleaded. " Permit me to
return to the city, my good friend." He smiled. " My child,
the wind is there as well as here," he answered.

That night the wind came from everywhere ; and at times we

1891.] THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. 327

could hear the tolling of the bells at Plaquemines, the clanging
of the plantation bells that call the hands at sunrise, at noon, at
sunset, and when there is danger from the treacherous river.
From the windows we could see the lanterns flit, carried here
and there along the levee ; and when there was a lull in the
storm we could hear the crash of axes, the shout of the men build-
ing up and strengthening the weak places in our bulwark against
the wash and surge of the mighty river. Mighty ! how little that
word to express what the Mississippi is when he takes on himself
to show that he is king.

Up on our high bluff we had no fear. The river could not
reach us, nor the land behind us that was shielded by the bluff
of the Auriculas stretching out into the water, and by the belt
of bluffs that streWhed to the west and to the southeast. Still,
we were glad when the wind subsided. Still more so when the
morning brought the blessed sun, and a neighbor who came out
of the goodness of his heart to tell us that the river, laughing at
us, had gone down in the night, and that there was no longer
danger of an overflow. " Ah, M. River ! " I cried, " you change
your mind to swallow up the land but me and my little
Frances up here you cannot get." The neighbor laughed and
went his way ; the river rippled and sparkled and whispered low
along its banks ; and I watched the men outlined against the
sky leave the levee, and the cutters going to the fields. Then
Frances, Priscille, Tarbon, and myself were alone on the bluff of
the Auriculas, no one nearer than those at Plaquemines, and the
hands in the fields a mile away.

On the evening of that day Fran9ois was to come, and Tar-
bon was to drive the buggy to the station at Plaquemines to
meet him. Priscille was to go along, for there was business to
be done at the shops that could not be trusted to Tarbon. The
train would arrive at seven, but I said to Priscille that she had
better start for Plaquemines between four and five. " You have
to go to the apothecary's, to the grocery, and to the post-office ;
all this will take time," I said to her. You see I knew Priscille ;
what with her not being quick, and what with her tongue being
long, 'she would lose time.

Priscille and Tarbon had driven away, and now there was no
one in the house but Frances and myself Frances fast asleep, I
so wide awake. I tried to read, I sewed awhile, and wished it
were time to prepare the dinner which we were to eat at eight.
After six o'clock would be time enough for that. " Well," I
thought, " the doctor may forbid if he wish, but I return with
Francois to New Orleans."

328 THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. [Dec.,

About six o'clock Frances awoke and I arrayed her in her
finest white, as, I thought to myself, in the time to come I
would for her First Communion, and later, wheri her Francois
would come to take her from me, I would array her to stand
before the altar. " But, Frances," I said to her with much seri-
ousness, " he, whoever he is, must be as good as is Francois,
thy father." She laughed when I said this. Perhaps she under-
stood ; who knows ?

When she was clothed I put her in her little coach and
wheeled her on to the gallery. Then, on my knees beside her,
I took a little hand of hers and put it to her forehead, to her
breast, and from shoulder to shoulder, left to right. "Thou hast
signed thyself with the sign of the cross, Frances," I whispered
to her ; " and now, my angel, l The good G<^1 bless papa and
mamma ' ' My lips closed, my heart stood still, as there came
to my ears a rumbling noise, a crash of timber, a splash splash,
and then a gurgle of the sweeping river, and silence !

I snatched Frances to my bosom she never cried and ran
the length of the gallery to see

'To see the river where had been our field and garden ; to see
the river eating away the bluff on which stood the house ; to see
the river curl round the bluff that was now an island ; to hear
the sullen grumble of the clods of clay and loom detaching
themselves to slide into the water laughing at me in the setting
sun ; to feel the house shaken to its foundation, to feel my child
warm at my heart.

Over the railing of the gallery that had been the only one to
face the river I leaned and saw the pirogue dancing on the
water, and fastened by a rope and staple to the landing made
by Francois.

I was perfectly calm, and prayed earnestly in my heart to the
good God to be permitted to reach the pirogue, and for strength
to paddle it away from the bluff before what was left of it was
swallowed up by the water.

My arms and hands must be free, and snatching up a shawl
I rested Frances on my back and bound her to me as does an
Indian mother with her child. Frances did not cry ; no, she did
not cry !

The water washed over the landing, and the stairs that led
down to it swayed to and fro. It was growing dark, and I
was yet some little distance from the bottom, when the stairs
slipped and cracked and fell in together with a dull report, and I
was flung on my face and hands in the water on the landing.

1891.] THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. 329

Partly stunned, I recollected to put back my hand to feel if
Frances were safe. As my hand touched her body she drew a
long breath like a sigh, and I was dumbly thankful that she
slept, not wondering how that could be.

To find the staple to which was fastened the rope of the pi-
rogue I had to grope in the water, and when I found it, it was
well for me that I had learned to tie and untie the slip-knot,
for the water had made the rope difficult to unloose.

I was still calm, and when at last in the pirogue, every
thought was put aside but the one that the safety of Frances
depended on my being able to paddle the boat far enough away
to prevent its being sucked in with the house and the bit of
land on which it stood. Once out of the eddy of the water, the
tide swept us on %st enough, and far enough for me not to hear ;
but in the light of the rising moon I saw the house topple and
disappear.

Now that I was free to think, I realized that I was cold, and
that as I was so must Frances be, and that it was strange she
did not cry. I felt me over quickly to see if I had on one gar-
ment that was dry, and found none. Then, sitting in the pirogue.
I loosed her from her place on my back to lay her against my
bosom that was warm for her.

I laid her in my lap to take off her wet clothes, and when I
took off her cap, in the bright moonlight, I saw where a plank
of the stair and I had not known it ! must have struck her ;
I saw the head of my little one bruised and broken and I
knew that she was dead !

Monsieur, you will pardon me I am her mother !

I now know that it was out of the mercy of the good God
that she was taken so, without suffering, for in the end she
would have died of the wet and exposure. But for a time I was
out of my mind. I rocked her to and fro in my arms, calling
on her by every name of love I knew, till I fell, as it were, into
a stupor, droning, " Frances, Frances, Frances !" As I said over
and over her name, without an effort on my part, it melted into
Francois, and my ungrateful heart became conscious of the grief
that would be his if he lost us both. " Frangois ! " I called
aloud ; " Frangois ! " and looking about me, saw that the pirogue
had drifted into a marsh of tall grass and tangling vines.

" Frangois ! " again I cried with all my might. My cries only
served to disturb the cranes among the sedges. Having placed
Frances, wrapped in the shawl, in the bottom of the boat, I ex-

330 THE PIROGUE OF THE AURICULAS. [Dec.,

erted myself to push the pirogue from out the marsh into the
tide of the river. By the position of the Plaquemine lights, I
knew I was still above the town, and my hope was that the tide
would carry me thither, for my strength had given out and I
could no longer use the paddle. But before I quite gave up I
cried again, my voice shrill and piercing, " Fra^ois ! Frangois ! "
As I sank down beside Frances, I heard my name called in re-
turn and the plash of oars.

I remember being lifted into a fishing-boat, I and Frances,
and that Francois' arm was about me, my head resting against
him. I must have asked him some question, for he said, " From
the shore we saw you drifting away, and came to seek you."

"How long since the house fell in?" I asked, and shuddered.

"About an hour ago. I saw it fall on my way from the
station," he replied.

An hour ago ! It had seemed to me many hours. Then I
began to moan in my distress, not loudly but without hope.

" We have lost our Frances, Irene," he whispered ; " but the
good God has spared you to me, else my heart would have been
pierced so that it would have died."

Monsieur, you know the rest of my story. I have lived, and
we, my husband and myself, have we not been blessed ? And
But, monsieur, see Francois and my boys coming up the street !
Are they handsome ? Are they good ? Are they brave ? Yes !
yes ! yes ! Monsieur, I am proud of them.

HAROLD DIJON.

TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN AT THE MARRIAGE
FEAST AT CANA.

" The wine failing, the Mother of Jesus saith to him : They have no wine. Jesus saith to
her : My hour is not yet come. His Mother saith to the waiters : Whatsoever He shall say
to you, do ye." ST. JOHN ii. 3, 4, 5.

A WONDROUS miracle indeed, of power divine !
Plain water changed at once to ruddy, luscious wine ;
Yet more miraculous thy love's persuasive power
When at thy word, He changed his God-appointed hour.

ALFRED YOUNG.

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 331

THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

IN a city far, in .Palestine,

O'er which His wondrous star did shine

To tell the place,
Was born our own Emmanuel
Sweet Christ-Child, the source of grace.

Born He was before all time,
Begotten ere His star did shine,

Of God the Father,
Now born in lowly Bethlehem,
Sweet Christ-Child, the source of grace.

And born this very day to me,
Born in my heart with love so free,

That I do wonder :
Born for all the world and me !
Sweet Christ-Child, the source of grace.

HENRY NEVILLE.

THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM.

II.

To give my readers some idea of this highly interesting Bud-
dhist system, I will attempt to present them with a faint outline
of it. It is just as well for me to premise that Sir William
Jones, the most eminent and most discerning Oriental critic of
this century, has cast serious doubts on the historical existence
of its founder. He asserts that Buddha was only a myth, and
that the name designates, not a man but the possession of a
human faculty, Wisdom, in the highest degree, in an individual.
He believes that the system now going under his name was es-
tablished by a heterodox Brahminical School of Philosophers.
Leaving this question to be decided by competent judges, we
will assume, for our present purpose, the historical existence of
Buddha-Gaudama.

Buddhist philosophers assure us that there have existed other
worlds before the present one, at each of which one or more

33 2 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Dec.,

Buddhas made his or their existence. Their number is set down
at twenty-four. Our own world has been the joyful (sic] parent
of four, the last of whom, our hero, is named Gaudama. Gau-
dama made his appearance six centuries before the Christian era.
That century ushered a great revolution into the world of
thought and politics. Solon was then framing new laws for the
Athenian Commonwealth ; Confucius was establishing a new sys-
tem of philosophy in China ; Pythagoras was pouring out floods
of persuasive eloquence upon his spell-bound disciples in Magna
Grecia, and Cyrus was widening the boundaries of the Persian
monarchy. Gaudama's original name was Siddhartha. . His fath-
er's name was Suddhodana, king of Kapilavastu, a city supposed
to have been situated somewhere on the borders of Oude and
Nepaul, in the north of India. The young prince Siddhartha
seems to have fostered a thoughtful turn of mind from his boy-
hood. He was thirty years old when, unable to shake off the
uneasy sensation and conviction that life was a galling load,
offering nothing but vanity and vexation of spirit, he resolved on
quitting his wife and only child. His royal father did all in his
power to dissuade him from taking such a step, and placed every
obstacle in his way to prevent it ; but all in vain. Eluding at
last his father's vigilance, he shaved off his long locks and with-
drew into solitu'de, in the hope of finding that peace and rest he
could not find amid the glittering splendors of the court. Here
a bundle of bulrushes formed his couch ; the grassy mountain-
side supplied him with his lenten fare, and the crystal spring
with his drink. He spent six whole years in this rigorous asce-
ticism, without finding the coveted remedy for the ills that life
is heir to. Then he said to himself : " I'll yet find this out, and
that too by sheer force of thinking." So saying, he sat himself
down cross-legged under the spreading branches of a huge Pee-
pal-tree (Ficus Religiosd], and lighting up the lamp of medita-
tion, he began to revolve in his mind the causes and effects of
things. After weeks of close and abstruse reasoning he at last
arrived at the full, perfect, and universal knowledge of things by
realizing their illusory nature. This at once constituted him a
Buddha, a word derived from the Pali language, " Budd," to
know ; and Buddha means " one who is wise, enlightened," one
to whom the riddle of life is solved. The fictitious tree under
which the last Buddha sat plunged in abstraction, and under
which he also attained perfection, is still shown in India at a
place called Buddha-Gaya, in Bahar, whither a ceaseless tide of
pilgrims flows. The last tree, which was supposed to be about

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 333

two hundred years old, fell down in 1880, when I was in India,
and its place was supplied, as heretofore, by a seedling.

Buddha began now to impart to others the knowledge he
himself had acquired. For forty years he crossed India from
north to south, from east to west, making everywhere numerous
converts. During this time he sailed three different times to the
island of Lanka, the modern Ceylon, where, at a place called
Anarajapoora, there is still extant a " Bo-tree " (the Peepal-tree
of India), considered by competent judges, and proved by unim-
peachable historic documents, as the probably oldest tree in the
world, having been planted two hundred and eighty-eight years
before the Christian era. The Buddhists aver that it is a branch
of the identical tree under which the last Buddha, Gaudama,
reclined when he underwent his apotheosis. The Buddhists in-
vest this tree with wonderful sanctity, and fallen leaves of the
same are reverently picked up and jealously treasured by devout
pilgrims.

At the age of eighty years, the time of his liberation having
arrived, Gaudama resigned his breath at Kusinagara, in Oude,
and his body being burnt, " such parts of it as were not con-
sumed by fire, as teeth and bones, were divided amongst con-
tending claimants, and deposited in appropriate tumuli " called
Pagodas, or Shrines.

Gaudama prophesied that his Religion would last five thou-
sand years, of which 2531 have already elapsed. After this
period another Buddha will appear, whose name will be Aree-
mateya, sometimes contracted into Meetraya.

As we have remarked elsewhere, Buddhism is rather an
ethical than a religious system. Its underlying principle is the
deceptive appearance of all that is in the world ; the instability
of all sublunary matters ; the woefulness of man's existence ; the
rooted conviction that human life is, on the whole, a curse rather
than a blessing. " Aneitsa, Doka, Anatta " a Burmese is con-
stantly muttering to himself, which freely rendered means, " Vanity
of vanities and all is vanity." Nothing, not even death itself,
can deliver a wretched mortal from the evils of sentient exis-
tence, for the simple reason that, when the soul is dislodged
from its present abode, it will transmigrate into another one,
mayhap worse than the former. Hence, the only escape Gau-
dama could find from the horns of this dilemma was, sinking
down to non-existence, extinction, annihilation of the soul, or
what he technically termed " Nirvana." I must be allowed to
subjoin one word of explanation for the better understanding of

334 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Dec.,

this much-controverted term. What people in general under-
stand by Nirvana is simply a deliverance of the soul from future
birth, from Transmigration. When some of his disciples asked
Gaudama to expound to them the right meaning of the word
Nirvana, he took a lighted candle in his hand and, blowing it
out, illustrated in that way what it meant. This, however, is noth-
ing more than the etymological signification of the word, Nirvana
being a compound of two Sanscrit words, " nir," out, and " vana,"
blown ; i.e., " extinction ; blowing out." The meaning of " anni-
hilation " attached to Nirvana having not found universal favor
amongst Buddhist philosophers, they have endeavored to effect
a compromise by the introduction of a new term, " Nibban,"
which is very vague, to say the least. These gentlemen, how-
ever, contend that Nirvana is a state that can be attained dur-
ing the lifetime of a Buddha only, and that too after hearing
his preaching. Now, as the advent of the next Buddha, Aree-
mateya, will not take place for another twenty-five hundred
years, this state is unattainable by any one under the present
Buddhist dispensation. It is further contended that Nirvana
means simply " a ceasing to be," and that the meaning "anni-
hilation of the soul " attached to it is foreign to Buddhist mind
and doctrine (see Forbes's British Burmah, page 314). Here I
must differ from the late Mr. Forbes, who upholds this view ;
and I do so for the simple reason that Gaudama himself dis-
credits it. " Nibban " means the " cessation of all action, influence,
change, existence, sensation, volition, and consciousness ; or more
clearly, the annihilation of .feeling ; the extinction of desire."

To facilitate the arrival at this heaven (sic) of annihilation,
Gaudama bids his follower exercise himself in meditating upon
the " Four Great Truths," namely, the Existence of Pain ; the
Production of Pain ; the Destruction of Pain ; and the Way
leading to the Destruction of Pain. The disciple is to ask him-
self : " What is the remote cause of Pain ?" The answer is at
hand, " Birth !" Had we not been born we should not be ex-
posed to pain. Again : " What is the proximate cause of Pain ?"
" Desire ! " " How is Desire excited ? " " By the organs of
sense sight and feeling principally." These in their turn
produce ideas in our minds. Now, ideas are invariably decep-
tive, inasmuch as they represent to us as real and lasting what
is only momentary and apparent. Be firmly convinced of this ;
free your bosom from the influence of passion ; kill desire ; break
every tie that would bind you to creatures and to the material
world in general, and you are fairly on the way leading to the

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 335

Destruction of Pain. Mount one step higher, and you have ar-
rived at the consummation of all perfection ; you have entered
into the state of Nibban ; you have sunk into annihilation ; you
have reached Nirvana !

Though complete Nirvana cannot be attained till after death,
yet there is a state of perfection akin to it attainable during
life. This is that state of contemplative asceticism so frequently
met with in Asia, so characteristic of Oriental religious philoso-
phy, and common to both Buddhism and Brahminism, consisting
in freeing one's self from the influence of the passions, dying to all
external objects, releasing the soul from the thraldom of sense,
riveting one's mind on Buddha, and, like him, passing one's
existence wrapt in a trance.

Besides the Four Great Truths, Gaudama gave his disciples
" Five Great Precepts." These are : not to kill ; not to steal ;
not to commit adultery ; not to lie ; not to drink intoxicating
drinks. All Buddhists, without exception, are bound by these
precepts, under penalty of bringing upon themselves a woeful
train of evils in their future existences. The transgression of
these precepts admits of no parvity of matter. Thus, he who
kills a flea becomes as guilty in the eyes of the " Law " as he
who kills a man. For this reason I have seen Burmans treat
troublesome parasites infesting their persons with as much care
and kindness as we would handle delicate babes ! To steal a
pin is as bad as stealing a horse. To wish to do wrong is as
sinful as if one had done it. To swallow a drop of wine causes
one to break the Commandment as grievously as if one had drunk
a gallon. Over and above these universally binding precepts,
Gaudama counselled his disciples to practise " Ten Virtues, or
Perfections," calculated to lead them to Nirvana. The chief
are : Almsgiving, Purity, Patience, Courage, Contemplation, and
Wisdom ; to wit, Almsgiving towards the Monastic Fraternity ;
Purity or Celibacy in those who make profession of sanctity, like
the Buddhist monks ; Patience under injuries and affronts ;
Courage under sufferings and trials ; Contemplation for Ascetics ;
Wisdom in arriving at a true estimate of the bubble, life. Gau-
dama inculcates Humility, and makes it consist in displaying one's
faults, and hiding one's virtues and good works. He also exacts
public confession : from the monks on the days of the new and
full moon, and from the laity once every five years at least. All
this, it must be owned, bears a striking resemblance to Chris-
tianity. Yet the greater the resemblance a false religion bears
to the true one, the more reprehensible its errors appear.
VOL. LIV. 22

336 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Dec.,

While speaking of the Buddhist Religion we must not forget
to say something on a doctrine which forms a leading feature,
and plays a most important part in the economy of Buddhist
salvation, so to speak a doctrine which is trying just now to gain
a footing among western nations, and is being imported into
Europe and America, and palmed off on the credulous public at
large as something " new " : I speak of the Doctrine, or Law as
Buddhists call it, of Merits and Demerits, otherwise termed
<% Karma." Karma is a Sanscrit word denoting action, work.
We have stated elsewhere that the Buddhists ignore the exis-
tence of a Supreme Being, who rewards the good and punishes
the bad. After the cessation of one existence, the duty of de-
termining the nature of the next one devolves not on any
Superior Power fixing this by the institution of a regular judi-
cial process ; but by the inflexible and inexorable fiat of the
power inherent in " Karma," the actions. Hence a man can
bless or curse himself by his own free will, and his unfettered
course of action, his own deeds. These deeds, whether good or
bad, become part and parcel of his system, and cleave to the very
essence of his soul, for better or for worse, for good or for evil,
for his bliss or for his misery in his future state or states. Ac-
cording to this Law, a man is simply what he does, or what he
has done. And what he has sown, that he will most assuredly
reap, and it will spring up and make itself felt or seen, sooner
or later, if not in this life, or in the next existence, most cer-
tainly in a future one. These convictions act as moral checks
on a Buddhist's evil actions, and as a stimulus to good ones.
We can easily discern from all this whence the modern utilitar-
ian System of Ethics was borrowed, according to which actions
are done or avoided in so far as they have a tendency to fur-
ther or hinder one's well-being. It is self-evident that actions
done for these motives are determined more by feeling than by
intellect.

The Three great, general Principles of Demerit are Lust,
Anger, and Ignorance. They are also the causes of all sin, sor-
row, and suffering. Buddhists are exhorted to wage a ceaseless
warfare against them, their victorious efforts being crowned with
a state of existence better than the present. When the warning
hand of time reminds an old Buddhist that he is fast approach-
ing a new existence, he then begins by laying up a store of
merits for himself. I have known rich persons spending their
whole accumulated wealth in building a Monastery or a Pagoda,
in the hope of at last animating an elephant!

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 337

This last reflection lands us at once at the threshold of an-
other Doctrine closely allied to the Law of Merits and Demerits,
a doctrine which forms the fundamental principle of all Asiatic
systems of Religion and Philosophy, exerting the greatest influ-
ence on every department of thought and the Buddhist's daily
routine of life : I refer to the doctrine of the soul's migration,
after what we call death, from one body, place, or state to an-
other body, place, or state, commonly known as the Doctrine of
Transmigration.

The origin and originator of this doctrine seem alike to be
lost in the dust of antiquity. Egypt and India claim the ques-
tionable merit of first establishing it, the balance of opinion in-
clining towards the former. Be this as it may, certain it is that
the larger portion of the human race holds it to this day as tena-
ciously as we hold the contradictory. In recent times, the
celebrated German critic Lessing made tentative efforts to revive
it, though in vain a circumstance which lessens our esteem for
this otherwise great man. In ancient times amongst us, and in
Asia in a great measure to this day, it led and leads people to
abstain from flesh, fish, and fowl, lest they should dish up un-
wittingly some one near and dear to them. Among the Bud-
dhists in Burmah two opinions have always prevailed on the sub-
ject of Transmigration. One holds that it is the self-same soul
that appears birth after birth, till it is purified from* all defile-
ments of sin, and sublimated to Nibban or Nirvana. The other
asserts, that when the body dies the soul also dies along with it, the
actions (Karma) alone surviving him. These actions contain in
themselves the principle of a new life, and from them conse-
quently, as from fruitful seeds, spring up a new life and a
new soul, occupying that particular form in the scale of existence
awarded him by their moral Merits or Demerits. Hence the
karmic consequences of a man's actions might subject him to the
penalty of animating a dog, or an- ass, or a wolf, or a rat, or
even a ghost. Or he may be made to animate trees or shrubs.
But the lowest condition or degradation of the human soul divine
is that of animating a public dancer !

Buddhist philosophers bid us not be surprised at the seem-
ingly wonderful power inherent in human actions, for is not one
lamp, say they, lighted at another ? Do not trees produce seeds
from which other trees of the same kind spring ? In the same
way do actions produce human souls. We remarked elsewhere
that the Buddhist Religion was simply a system of ethics, a rank
atheism and nothing better. In confirmation of this assertion we

338 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Dec.,

will now add that the Burmese, with whom we are chiefly con-
cerned, have no priesthood, no altar, no sacrifice, and conse-
quently no god. Who is Buddha-Gaudama, then ? may pertinently
be asked. Buddha " the wise," Gaudama his successor, is a
man like any other man, superior to other men not in nature
but in knowledge and perfection, which he acquired by the
practice of every virtue, by the conquering of every passion, by
the extinction of every desire, by dying to self and to all else.
This rigorous discipline, practised by him through countless stages
of existence, raised him to such a transcendent degree of know-
ledge that he was able to fathom the cause and effect of all
things, the misery and wants of man. Every Buddhist can at-
tain to Buddhaship by practising Buddha's virtues and actions.
Gaudama preached a Law designed to give comfort and conso-
lation to bleeding hearts, and afford relief and remedy to all the
ills of life. After establishing his Religion he died and sank into
Nirvana. A true Buddhist will fashion his life after that of Bud-
dha-Gaudama, and be in all things like unto him.

But though the Burman Buddhist believes in no god, says
Forbes, yet he feels the liveliest sentiments of gratitude, affection,
and devotion towards Buddha-Gaudama for pointing out to him
the way leading to the destruction of pain, to the deliverance of
life's evils, to Nirvana. He gives vent to these pent-up feelings
by bursting out into loud praises of him, and ends his laudation
by repeating the Buddhist's orthodox formula : " I take refuge in
Buddha, the Law, and the Assembly." These are called the
Three Precious Things, and each and every one of them is
equally entitled to the self-same honor and worship.

I must not forget to mention that beads or rosaries, as con-
trivances by which to keep count, are much in vogue among the
Burmese ; though their use is almost entirely restricted to old
men and women. The Burmese rosary is a string of beads
one hundred and eight in 'number, made either of wood, stone,
seeds, or bone. After every five beads has been slipped through
the fingers they mutter this formula : " Aneitsa, Doka, Anatta,
Phra, Tara, Thinga yaydana thou ba " ; which means Illusori-
ness (of the world) ; Misery (of man's existence) ; Mutability (of
all things) ; the Lord, the Law, the Assembly, the Three Pre-
cious Things. The Burmese know nothing of the famous Lama-
istic prayer or greeting : " Om Mani Padme Hum," the proba-
ble translation of which being " Salvation (Om) is in the jewel
lotus (mani-padme), Amen (hum)."

Together with Gaudama, the Burman Buddhist feels love and

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 339

veneration for the Law i.e., the sayings and teachings of Gau-
dama. Last of all he entertains the same feelings for the Assem-
bly or Monks, whom he worships by prostrations and presenta-
tions of gifts.

Four times a month Burmans repair to the Kyoungs, or
Shrines, to make offerings to Gaudama. These times are the days
of the new and full moon, and seven days after each. The offer-
ings consist of flowers, fruits, rice, candles, gold-paper and
streamers. Orthodox Burmans keep these days as a strict fast
on one meal taken before noon, after which they eat nothing till
sunrise next morning. Presents are also made to the monks,
who on these occasions seat themselves cross-legged on a plat-
form, and, holding a large palm-leaf fan before their eyes, read
out portions of the Law to the Congregation. Sometimes one
of the elder Monks leads a kind of Litany in praise of Gaudama,
and the people join in a sing-song manner, with their hands
raised and joined, and a flower or flowers between them (see
Forbes's British BurmaJt). The Burmese observe a Lent lasting
from the full moon of July (Watso) to the full moon of October
(Thadirikywat). During this time marriages and merriments of
all kinds are interdicted, and many of the Monks spend it in se-
clusion and contemplation, in places removed from the hum and
buzz of the world. The Burmese year, like the year of many
Oriental nations, begins in April usually between the ninth and
the twelfth of that month.

The foregoing, then, are the leading characteristics of Bur-
mah, the Burmans, and Buddhism.

We forbear entering into a serious refutation of the latter.
We will simply remark that, though we perceive in it some
traits of resemblance between it and the Christian religion, yet
on close inspection we find that this resemblance is more ap-
parent than real. The Buddhists start at once with the destruc-
tive assumption that there is no God ; while we Christians base
our religion on the existence of God. The Buddhists practise
virtue for the sake of annihilation ; we Christians in the hope of
an immortal and blissful life. Can we trace any resemblance
between these two conflicting tenets ? And if we happen to
find some of Gaudama's teachings at one with those of the
Gospel, this is simply because all men have the same law of
God engraved in their hearts, the self-same voice of conscience
whispering to all the same truths.

We have called Buddhism a " System of Morality." This is
an error which we must here rectify, for there cannot be

34 THE BURMA NS AND BUDDHISM. [Dec.,

morality where there is no God, who is avowedly the founda-
tion of all morality. Hence even this apparent stately structure
of a " Moral System " crumbles to pieces. There is nothing left
for it, therefore, but to designate it as an apotheosis, an idola-
try of " self," and as one of the many sad aberrations of the
human mind uncontrolled by revelation. Our only surprise is
that this enlightened age of ours can supply believers and livers
in it. This causes our souls to sink into deep humiliation ; and
the reflection that we are not of their number should kindle in
our hearts an adoring gratitude to God.

The Burmese have a highly flourishing monastic institution in
their midst, the members of which are styled " Phoongyees," a
word signifying "great glory." They are also known under the
appellation of " Talapoins," from their carrying a fan made from
the leaf of the " Tala-pat " palm. The Pali word for them is
" Rahan," namely, Religious-Holy Men.

The Phoongyee Order is an absolute necessity under the
present Buddhist dispensation, because no one can emerge from
the whirlpool of ever-recurring existence unless he abandon the
world and become a Recluse, a Monk. For this reason every
man with the least claim to respectability or good social stand-
ing in Burmah must go through the formality of assuming the
yellow robe of a Phoongyee once in his life-time, and join the
religious brotherhood for a few days at least. This is generally
done in boyhood, about the age when one is budding into man-
hood.

These Monks live in monasteries or " Kyoungs," built away
from the hum and buzz of towns and villages. Successful
traders will oftentimes spend the better part of their gains in
building a monastery ; either as a means of acquiring merit or
for the sake of prefixing to their name the honorable appel-
lation of " Kyoung-taga " i.e., builder of a monastery. This
they bestow on some favorite Monk of theirs, who ipso facto is
installed as Superior of it.

The Order has a duly-organized * hierarchy, with a " Great
Teacher" at the head of it, styled " Thathanapine Tsa-yah-daw-
gyee." After him come the " Gine-oks," or Provincials, under
whose direct jurisdiction are the Abbots of the different monas-
teries. These last rule, in their turn, over the novices and
other " Oopatzins," or simple monks.

The respect shown by the people in general to these monks
amounts to veneration, to worship. In fact, the Assembly of the
Rahans is one of the Three Precious Things every Burmese is

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 341

bound to venerate. They are addressed as " Phra " i.e., Lords,
The person who addresses them, be he prince or plebeian, must
approach them in a kneeling posture, with his hands joined andl
raised to his forehead a form of salutation known in Burmah
as "Sheekoing" and after making three different prostrations
proffers his request. As a rule, no one goes to see a Phoon-
gyee empty-handed. The monk on receiving a present never ac-
knowledges it. Sometimes he might deign to say " Thadoo,
thadoo ! " well, well ! but never " Thank you ! " The reason of
this is, that the monk confers a favor on the giver, by affording
him an opportunity of acquiring merit for his next existence.

The Phoongyees live exclusively on the liberality of their
countrymen, who are very generous to them. As a compensa-
tion they teach children the first rudiments of reading, writing,
and arithmetic.

By an imperative rule of their Order the Phoongyees are
obliged to beg their daily food. For this reason every morning,
between seven and eight o'clock, they go forth in procession
from their respective monasteries, carrying a large lacquered wood-
en bowl, which they clasp with both hands in front of their
persons, and with slow steps, eyes down, mouth shut, solemnly
pace the streets, halting from time to time before a door. They
neither knock nor make their presence known by any sign
whatsoever, but stand there as mute and motionless as statues.
Should no one come out and attend to them, they move on to
the next house, where perhaps they will receive a cupful of
boiled rice or curry> which they accept without betraying the
least sign of gratitude or recognition no, not even so much as
looking at the donor. When they think they have enough for
the day they return home in the same slow, silent, and solemn
manner as they went out. The senior members of the Frater-
nity very often stay at home. But their wants are regularly and
plentifully supplied by pious women who carry food and little
dainties to them. A monk may have his fill from sunrise to
noon ; after that hour no more solid food must enter his mouth
till next morning.

On entering the monastery the monks promise to observe
poverty, chastity, and seclusion. In common with every Bud-
dhist, they are bound to the observance of the Five Great Pre-
cepts ; over and above these there are five others which concern
them alone. These are: 1st, Not to eat after mid-day; 2d, Not
to dance, sing, or play any musical instrument ; 3d, Not to use
cosmetics ; 4th, Not to stand in unduly elevated places ; 5th,

342 THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. [Dec.,

Not to touch gold or silver. Of late years abuses have crept
into the Order making the last-named Precept almost nugatory.
But they observe with scrupulous fidelity the other points of the
Law. Above all they are very particular with regard to their
Vow, if we may so call it, of chastity. Seldom or never one
hears of a monk having broken it. In fact he has no occasion
for so doing, because if he cannot bear the restraints of a mo-
nastic life he is always at liberty to return to secular pursuits.
This, however, is attended in Burmah, as everywhere else, with
dishonor and disgrace to the individual.

To secure his monks from possible breaches of their Vow of
Chastity, Gaudama, their founder, prescribes that when any one
of them is obliged to converse with women he must screen his
face with the fan he carries for that purpose ; the conversation
must not be prolonged beyond five or six words, and this too
must be done where every one can see and hear them. On no
occasion or pretext whatsoever may a monk touch, never so
slightly, even with the tip of his finger, a woman, be she mother
or sister. All Oriental scholars are familiar with the famous
" casus. conscientiae " proposed to Gaudama by one of his rahans :
" What if I saw my own mother lying in a ditch ? " " Pull her
out by giving her the end of a stick ! " was Gaudama's stern reply.
The life of a Phoongyee is, on the whole, uneventful and un-
interesting. Most of the forenoon he spends in ministering to
his bodily wants. After that he may, perhaps, take a walk to
some shrine, accompanied by a few of his disciples, or sit idly
at home chatting with visitors or listening to the town gossip.

I must not forget to mention that he is bound to the daily
recital of his " Kamathan," or book of devotions ; also to say his
Buddhistic formulas on his string of beads, with which he closes
his "spiritual" duties for the day. On Feast-days he mounts a
platform, upon which he sits cross-legged, and, putting his large
palm-leaf fan before his eyes, he reads out portions of Gaudama's
Law, or Teaching, to the assembled congregation. This is the
sum total of his duties to them. Sometimes he is asked to
funerals, when he reads Gaudama's teachings on the ills of life,
and nothing more. It -must be clearly understood that a Bud-
dhist Monk is not a Priest in any sense of the word. He has
not chosen a state of mortification and penance for the good of
others i.e., to minister to their spiritual wants but for his own
benefit: that he may the sooner extricate himself, so to speak,
from the meshes of Transmigration, and arrive at Nirvana-anni-
hilation.

1891.] THE BURMANS AND BUDDHISM. 343

There is no human being outside the pale of Christianity who
appeals more strongly to our pity and commiseration than the
poor, deluded Burman Phoongyee. ' He imposes upon himself un-
natural restraints ; lives contented with the bare necessaries of
life ; renounces the world and its advantages, fasts and prays,
and all for the sake of being quickly annihilated ! He differs
toto ccelo from the Brahmin, who is a lying impostor ; and from
the Yogin, who is a fanatic ; as well as from the Lama, who is a
nondescript. He is sincere in his convictions, honest in their
expression, edifying in his conduct. Hence, besides our pity he
also deserves our praise. This has not been stinted to him by
the best living authority on Buddhism, the present venerable
head of the Catholic Church in Burmah, Bishop Bigandet, in his
classical work The Life and Legend of Gaudama, to which we
earnestly refer the reader.

The honor paid to a Phoongyee in his life-time is carried
further still after death. A Monk, however, never dies ; he only
''returns" i.e., to the Fairy country. A Phoongyee's funeral rites
are one of those sights that, when once witnessed, can never be
effaced from a foreigner's memory. Like all other Burmese
funerals, there is not the least tinge of gloom about it ; every-
body being as merry as at a wedding. No sooner has a
Phoongyee breathed his last, than his body is embalmed, swathed
in linen, varnished and gilded ; after which he is put in a glass-
panelled shrine, and exposed on a catafalque in a mortuary
chapel built for the purpose. Thither people resort to see him
and make offerings of flowers and candles to him. Meanwhile
funds are raised for his cremation, or as they call it, u Phoon-
gyee-pyan." This may take months and years, but it is always
preceded by a few days of merry-making, in which all take part.
The construction of the funeral pile occupies days and weeks,
and Burmese decorators take great pleasure and pride in putting
it up, bestowing upon it all their care and skill. The frame-work
is of bamboo woven into intricate, various, and oftentimes taste-
ful designs, ornamented with gilt and colored paper, and the
usual Oriental display of tinsel. The structure is about sixty or
seventy feet high, crowned by a gaudy canopy. Just below this
is a cenotaph provided with an iron grating for the reception of
the body, which is carried to the place of cremation in a trium-
phal car. Under the cenotaph is a heap of combustible materials.
These must be ignited by means of rockets, big and small, dis-
charged against them from far and near till it is on fire. Thus
the unfortunate Phoongyee is literally blown up to glory : only

344 THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. [Dec.,

he will not go up. The fire, acting on the bamboo supporting
the coffin, makes the whole structure give way. This causes the
coffin to tumble to the ground with a thud amid the crash and
noise of breaking and crackling bamboos, till the whole pyre
caves in and creates one big blaze in which the body is burnt
to ashes. The ashes the Phoongyees reverently gather and de-
posit in an urn and bury in a kyoung.

ADALBERT AMANDOLINE, O.S.B.

THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL.

THE archaeology of prehistoric times is a study of recent
date and one which is intimately connected with paleontology
and geology. The students of classical antiquity, who had been
accustomed to look no farther back into the past than the times
of Egypt and Assyria, were at first a good deal fluttered and
excited by it. Now, however, they take a more sober view, and
acknowledge that man's early history may be traced to an epoch
when the mammoth existed, and when the reindeer in France
roamed as far south as the Pyrenees. This was during what is
called the Old Stone Age, when tools and weapons were never
polished, but were chipped into shape.

But when the mammoth became extinct, and when the rein-
deer migrated northward, what, it may be asked, became of the
cave-men who had been their contemporaries, and who had
scratched the images of these animals in life-like outline on their
bones, which were happily, in a few cases, preserved for after-ages
under hard floors of stalagmite ? Did the cave-men also disap-
pear, or did they abide in their old haunts and blend with other
tribes, coming perhaps from Asia, which has so often sent its
overflowing hordes into Europe ? This question is not easy to
answer. Much has been written pro and con. ; one side arguing
that the break or gap which seems to exist between the age of
chipped and the age of polished stone is only apparent, and
that the men of the Old Stone Age lived on through the suc-
ceeding New Stone Age, and may even be traced to the present
day in France. De Quatrefages, in L Espece Humaine, says : " At

1891.] THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. 345

Solutre, in the neolithic tombs placed beside the sepultures of
the Quaternary period, the old horse-hunters are represented by
their descendants, whose skulls are found more or less modified.
In the sepulchral grottoes of the Marne, so ably and so
fruitfully explored by M. J. de Baye, the type of Cro-Magnon*
is found associated with four other human races and with a
neolithic race." It is the opinion of this distinguished scientist
that toward the end of the Old Stone Age a new race appeared
in France and blended with the men of the quarternary epoch ;
and a careful comparison of the skulls found in the caves adds
not a little weight to this opinion. Nevertheless, the evidence in
support of an hiatus between the two ages of stone is very
strong, and we are inclined to believe that the mammoth and its
companion the woolly rhinoceros, the cave-lion, the ancient horse,
as well as man himself saving, it may be, one or two families
perished in the Deluge, of which so many nations have pre-
served a tradition. And this wide continental flood must have
been accompanied by a sudden change from heat to intense cold
over the whole northern hemisphere ; thus allowing the carcases
of so many mammoths to be preserved to our day in the ice
and frozen soil of Siberia.f Speaking of this hiatus Cartailhac,
in La France pre"historique, says : " When, after passing the
Reindeer period, we find ourselves in a new age, known as the
age of polished stone, or better, the neolithic period, we become
aware that great changes have taken place. Nothing made us
foresee them. Between the most recent paleolithic beds and the
oldest neolithic beds of which we have any knowledge there is
a break in the continuity." We find the two ages separated
either by a thick bed of loam or a sheet of stalagmite ; below
the stalagmite are found the fossil bones on which are engraved
the figures of the reindeer and the mammoth, as well as man's
own figure ; while above the stalagmite these inscribed bones
disappear altogether. Geikie, in his Prehistoric Europe, says:
"We can trace a gradual passage from neolithic times into the
succeeding bronze age, but no such transition has yet been de-
tected between the relics of the new and the old stone periods.
. . . The implements of the one period are never found com-
mingled with those of the other, nor do the characteristic faunas
of the two ages ever occur together in one and the same undis-
turbed deposit." Among the remains of the New Stone Age no
mammoth or woolly rhinoceros has ever been found, while among

* Grotto in the department of the Dordogne which contained several very ancient skulls.
t See The Mammoth and the Flood, by H. H. Howorth.

346 THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. [Dec.,

the cave deposits of the Old Stone Age not one domestic ani-
mal has been discovered, unless perhaps some doubtful traces of
canis familiaris. The wild horse, too, whose fossil bones are so
plentiful in the beds of the Old Stone period especially in the
caves inhabited by man is so scarce as to be almost unknown
in the caves of the New Stone Age. How account for this well-
nigh complete disappearance of the horse of quaternary times,
unless we believe that it perished in the cataclysm of which we
have spoken and which may be called the great Divide between
the ancient world and the modern world ? And this curious fact
in regard to the horse is as true of America as it is of Europe.
We know that in post-pliocene times the horse abounded in the
New World, yet when the Spaniards discovered America it was
quite extinct there.

But granting that the cave-men of the reindeer period were
not all drowned in the Flood, granting that a few did survive
and continued to dwell in the same region, it is certain that they
lost their artistic sentiment as well as changed their mode of life.
They in most cases abandoned their homes in the rock and took
to higher ground, and around some of their new abodes may be
traced lines of earth like the lines of an intrenched camp, and
within these lines we find pottery and implements of agriculture,
a proof that the inhabitants had become more sedentary and no
longer depended entirely on the chase. But Lieutenant-colonel
de la Noe, who has carefully examined all the stations in France
of the New Stone Age, does not consider these encircling earth-
en walls as indicating a fortified place ; such earthen walls may
still be seen in Normandy, where they serve the purpose of
herding cattle.

And now for the first time we find traces of the cow, sheep,
goat, pig, and chickens. The stone hatchets, too, are not only
smoother and better shaped, but have generally a small hole on
one side so as to be more securely fastened to the handle. In
the Old Stone Age such holes were never made and the axe-head
was probably fastened to a stick by means of tendons, just as is
done to-day by the Esquimaux and Polynesians. Let us here
observe that the best authorities tell us that the pine-tree is
characteristic of the New Stone Age ; the oak characterizes the
age of bronze ; while the beech-tree marks the age of iron.
The pine is no longer found in Denmark ; yet it was certainly
the contemporary of the Danish kitchen-middens (refuse heap).
It must have required many thousand years to bring about this
change in the character of the forests, for in the time of the

1891.] THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. 347

Romans Denmark was covered with beech-trees ; eighteen cen-
turies have made no change in its forest vegetation.

In the New Stone Age caves and grottoes were often used as
places of sepulture. The first grotto of this kind, and the one
most celebrated in the history of anthropology, is the grotto
discovered at Aurignac, department of the Haute-Garonne,
France, in 1852. Unfortunately it was not till some time after
it had been opened, and after the remains of seventeen human
beings had been taken from it and buried in a cemetery, that
Edouard Lartet heard of it. Another little grotto similar to
this one is the grotto of Durnthy, in the Landes. Above a
layer of earth, which covered remains of the preceding Old
Stone Age, were found thirty-three skeletons, together with im-
plements and weapons of polished flint. These skeletons have
been pronounced to be the same type as the men of the Rein-
deer epoch. But it is in the department of the Lozere, in a rocky,
desolate district, through which flows the river Tarn, that the
most interesting remains of the New Stone Age have come to
light. Speaking of these Cartailhac, in La France prehistorique,
says : " There has been much dissertation about the races whose
vestiges have been preserved for us in the grottoes of the Lozere.
It has been maintained that they were the direct descendants
of the races of the quarternary period, and that they had come
in Conflict with invaders, with the Dolmen builders. These con-
clusions were, and are still, premature ; the relative age of all
these populations remains undetermined. Only one thing is cer-
tain : they lived during that long period which follows the rein-
deer age and precedes the coming of metal industry. And
among them we find again the old race -types."

It is to the New Stone Age that belong the dolmens, cromlechs,
lake-dwellings, 'and kitchen-middens. The Swiss lake-dwellings
were first exposed to view during the uncommonly dry season
of 1853. They are very like the lake-dwellings still to be seen
in New Guinea. The houses are round, with a conical roof, and
built upon trunks of trees which had been sharpened at one end
by means of fire and then driven from four to six feet into the
bottom of the lake. As many as one hundred thousand such
posts have been counted in one village, and the village was gen-
erally between one and two hundred yards from the shore. Of
course no remains of the rhinoceros, reindeer, or mammoth are
found among the debris of these ancient lake settlements, and
there are scarcely any traces of the horse in the oldest villages ;
the horse does not become abundant again till near the close of

348 THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. [Dec.,

the bronze age. But the dog, pig, goat, sheep, and marsh-cow
are common enough.

What are called Dolmens* are broad stones placed upon
stone pillars, and it is now well established that they are sepul-
chral monuments, funereal chambers in which were placed the
bodies of eminent persons, and not, as formerly imagined, places
where human sacrifices were performed. Originally the Dolmen,
was covered by a pyramid of earth ; but in nearly every case
the earth has been washed away by ages of rain. One Dolmen,
however, has been found in Brittany with its original earth-cov-
ering still over it. Broca, a high authority, says : " The Dolmen,
which seems at first to be a special mode of sepulture, neverthe-
less appears to me to be merely derived from the primitive
mode of burial in the caverns." And Cartailhac says, following
the opinion of De Mortillet : " L'ensevelissement aurait d'abord
eu lieu dans la grotte naturelle. Les grottes devenant rares et
les morts toujours plus nombreux, on se serait mis a creuser
des grottes artificielles ; puis on serait arrive a en construire de
toutes pieces, avec des materiaux rapportes : ce sont les Dol-
mens." Cromlechs, which are circles formed of large stones as
at Stonehenge are believed to be commemorative monuments :
and it is interesting to know that megalithic monuments are met
with all over the world ; even in remote islands of the Pacific.
May not this be due to a psychological principle which incites
men who have reached a like intellectual level to adopt similar
habits and customs, and to act in a similar manner?

What are called kitchen-middens are small mounds composed
of oyster-shells, cockles, mussels, bones of the otter, deer, and
other wild animals, as. well as of different birds, among which
the capercailzie, a bird that lives only in pine woods. The dog-
is the only domestic animal whose remains have been found in
the kitchen-middens. These refuse heaps are met with in Ire-
land, France, Sardinia, Japan, Portugal, North America, Aus-
tralia, and New Guinea ; and they would no doubt be much
more numerous had not the ocean in many places swept away
the shore-line. In the kitchen-middens scattered along a little
river which flows into the Tagus, in Portugal, a number of
skeletons have been unearthed, and good authorities maintain
that the race to which these skeletons belonged was merely a
variety of the more ancient reindeer hunters. It is also gene-
rally admitted that the implements of polished stone which
have been dug out of the kitchen-middens of Europe belong to

* Dolmin, in the dialect of Brittany, signifies a stone table.

1891.] THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. 349

the beginning of the New Stone Age ; this is shown by their
rude workmanship and general form. We may also infer from
the shells of certain molluscs buried in the kitchen-middens
that the men of that age were not afraid to venture out to sea,
for these shell-fish belong to species living at some distance from
the shore.

If archaeological researches have proved that in certain places
the men of the New Stone Age continued to occupy the same
natural caves in which had dwelt the men of the Old Stone
Age, nevertheless, as we have already observed, the former as a
rule did not inhabit these caves and grottoes, but built for them-
selves dwellings of stone ; and the artificial grotto certainly
marks an advance in civilization, for it allows man to choose
the spot which he likes best for a home. In several depart-
ments of France are found a number of artificial stone abodes
placed quite near together, a village hewn out of the chalky
rock ; and from the polished stone implements and the pieces of
pottery found in these little abodes, we know that they belong
to the New Stone Age : nothing more surely indicates a station
of the New Stone Age than pottery. But so well were these
dwellings concealed by the overlying earth that, until they were
accidentally brought to light, nobody suspected their existence.
The entrance to them was generally blocked by a big, flat stone.
Nevertheless, wood was sometimes used in place of stone, for
remains of wooden doors have been discovered. In regard to
the healthfulness of abodes in the rock, Baron de Baye, in
LArMologie prthistorique, says : " Such abodes may appear at
first sight insufficient and very disagreeable ; but this is not the
case, for grottoes thus made in the chalk are healthy at all sea-
sons. We must not judge of their healthfulness by -a single and
hasty visit."* There is little doubt that excavations in the
chalky rock were made with implements of horn, for we know
that the men of the New Stone Age used horn implements
when mining for flint. They dug holes in the earth which were
not quite vertical, and the horizontal layers of this, to them,
most precious stone were reached with the greatest care ; the
picks, as we have said, were of deer's horn, and in several pre-
historic mines such picks have been found jammed fast between
two masses of rock. In some artificial stone dwellings we see
shelves cut in the rock ; there are also sharp, projecting points
of stone, which very likely served for hooks. But by far the

* We have seen comfortable dwelling-places in the rock still in use on the banks of the
Loire, near Tours. The grotto of St. Martin de Tours is widely known.

350 THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. [Dec.,

most interesting things discovered in these homes of the New
Stone Age are sculptured figures representing more or less well
the human body. In seven grottoes in France such carved work
has been found. One of the figures, which is unfinished, is
eighteen inches high and has a nose disproportionately large.
Broca believes that it, as well as the other six figures (one of
which is half-woman, half-bird), are meant for divinities. De
Quatrefages, in his introduction to L' Etude des Races humaines,
says of the religious interpretation usually given to these carv-
ings in the rock, and which were discovered by Baron de
Baye : " Si elle est vraie, comme tout permet de le croire, nous
avons sous les yeux la plus ancienne forme connue que 1'homme
ait imaginee pour representer un de ces etres aux quels
s'addressent des hommages."

It is interesting, too, to find, besides these human and semi-
human figures, several sculptured hatchets at the entrances to
the grottoes. We know that the Greeks held this weapon in a
certain religious esteem. In one case Bacchus is worshipped
under the form of a hatchet pelekys while the Egyptian hiero-
glyph standing for Nouter-God is a hatchet. Speaking of this
De Quatrefages says : " Must we, then, trace back to our neo-
lithic ancestors the worship, or at least the veneration, of the
hatchet which the learned tell us existed among the Greeks, the
Chaldeans, the Egyptians?" Some writers maintain that the
men of the New Stone Age were cannibals ; but Edouard
Lartet says : " Pour ma part, dans tout ce que j'aipu observer
d'anciennes stations rapportables a la Gaule primitive, je n'ai
pas reconnu le, moindre indice d'anthropophagie."'

The frequent cases of trepanning in prehistoric times have
not a little puzzled archaeologists. Some maintain that these
holes in the skull, when made after death, were made in order
to rid the skull of its more perishable matter ; to quote again
Cartailhac : " Et puisqu'il est probable que souvent les neolith-
iques prenaient soin de de"charner les morts avant de les trans-
porter et de les delaisser dans une derniere demeure, les tr-
panations posthumes des cranes sont on nombre des preuves que
Ton en peut donner." This is certainly the better opinion in
regard to posthumous trepanning. But it is now generally be-
lieved that trepanning during life which was extensively prac-
tised on young persons was meant to allow the evil spirit, the
supposed cause of epileptic convulsions, to escape through this
perforation in the skull ; and the pieces of bone thus cut out

* Annales des Sociltts Nat. Zool., xv. 239.

1891.] THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. s 351

each pierced with one, sometimes two, suspension holes were
very likely worn as amulets or preventives against the evil spirit.
To quote again from Cartailhac : " It is the unknown that
begets superstition, the unexplained maladies whose hidden
causes are attributed either to divine or diabolic influences, such
as epilepsy and convulsions. In all ages they have excited
terror and given rise to the belief in possessions. Only a spirit
imprisoned in the body could produce the effects which we
observe. ... If we opened an exit for him, the spirit would
escape and the sick person would be cured. It is thus, accord-
ing to Broca, that the idea of trepanation must have arisen."
And this custom of trepanning during life, and of wearing as a
charm the bone that was extracted, was handed down to suc-
ceeding ages. De Baye says, in L' Archeologie prtfhistorique : * " In
an age nearer to ours we have undoubtedly found a circular
piece of bone taken from the skull in a funereal urn belonging
to the Gallo-Roman epoch, found at Reims." And Professor
Bellucci exhibited to the archaeological congress in Lisbon an
amulet made of a piece of skull, which amulet had been applied
in Italy for epilepsy. Let us add, however, that Broca and
other authorities maintain that trepanning was not always per-
formed merely from superstitious motives ; there were cases in
which the operation was performed for therapeutic reasons ; and
these prehistoric surgical operations were done with a flint knife.
For further observations on this curious subject we refer the
reader to the proceedings of the International Congress of Ame-
ricanists held in Turin, in 1886, and especially to the remarks
made by Baron de Baye. From the earliest ages man has
sought to beautify himself by artificial means. Probably the
oldest representation of a necklace is the one cut on the sculp-
tured figure in the neolithic (neos lit ho s) cave at Coizard, in
France. The part of it which hangs on the breast had been
colored yellow. In this far-off age the teeth of wild animals,
the dorsal fins of fish, shells, and also little balls of chalk, were
strung together to form a necklace ; while in a few excavations
of the new stone period beads made of amber have been found.
It is a solemn sight to behold a number of ancient skeletons
in one place three hundred were found stretched out on the
floor of a cavern, with these ornaments lying in close proximity
to their necks ; each tooth and shell and pellet of chalk pierced
with a tiny hole. The sepulchral grotto was a pretty good imi-

* De la Trepanation prShistorique.
VOL. LIV. 23

352 . THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. [Dec.,

tation of the abode used during life ; and as time goes on, as
the Old Stone Age passes into the new, and the New Stone
Age merges into the Age of Bronze, we see manifested more
and more expressions of sorrow in these resting-places of the
dead, as well as greater precautions taken against desecration
as by carefully concealing the entrance to the tomb. In some
cases, however, the old home, the inhabited grotto, was wholly
given up to the dead, and a new home for the living was chosen
elsewhere ; and here, no doubt, the main idea was to show
greater regard and veneration for the dead person.

The better opinion is that in the New Stone Age the dead
were not cremated, as they were at a later epoch. Valdemar
Schmidt, in his address " Etudes comparatives sur les Rites fune-
raires," delivered before the International Congress of Prehistoric
Archaeology at Budapest, says, speaking of the New Stone Age :
" During the age of stone it was the custom to bury in nearly
all countries. We have, it is true, observed in certain regions
tombs of that age in 'which there seem to be traces of crema-
tion, but it can be shown that these sepultures belong to an
epoch not far removed from the beginning of the Age of
Bronze." But it is interesting to know that in many cases the
bodies were placed on flat stones; and as there is good evidence
to show that these stones had been heated, the better opinion
is that this was done in order to dry the atmosphere of the
cave, as well as to cause the humidity contained within the
bodies to more speedily evaporate ; it was seemingly an attempt
at dessication, and may have been handed down from the pre-
ceding Old Stone Age, where the bodies of the dead were often
deposited on the hearth-stones.

There are, however, a few cases of undoubted incineration,
where the bones had been completely carbonized ; for instance,
at Moret, in the department of Seine-et-Marne. But here it is
believed we are at a period of transition as Valdemar Schmidt
asserts between the New Stone Age and the Age of Bronze.
In the great majority of cases the skeletons of this age are
found with knees bent and arms raised above the head ; and we
know that many nations, savage and semi-civilized, place their
dead in this attitude. Perhaps the best explanation of this is
given by Latourneau, quoted by Cartailhac in La France prt-
historique ; he says: " In the imagination of most primitive men
death is a long sleep. Hence nothing is more natural than to
give the corpse the attitude of repose which one has the habit

1891.] THE NEW STONE AGE IN GAUL. 353

of taking in the chimney-corner in the evening, after a day
spent in hunting or righting.

In closing this brief sketch of the New Stone Age let us
observe that we find man at a higher degree of civilization
than in the Old Stone Age. He has learnt to make better
weapons, no longer using only the native flint, but stone of a
better quality procured from a distance. Man has also learnt
to construct better dwelling-places ; caves in the rock are no
longer his sole abode. We even find him building houses
on the water, doubtless for greater protection ; and lastly in
the dolmens and cromlechs we see him erecting monuments
and tombs of huge stones, which have defied the wear and
tear of thousands of years. Broadly speaking, the New Stone
Age was followed by the Age of Bronze, and the Age of
Bronze by the Age of Iron. Nevertheless, in some parts of
Europe the stone period lasted down to comparatively recent
times. Unless we are greatly mistaken, stone weapons were
used in Ireland as late as the ninth century ; while the stone
age lasts even to-day in some parts of the world. Of this Car-
tailhac, speaking of France, says : " But if we had to give an
idea of the date to which we might reasonably assign the last
stations and the last neolithic tombs, we should name the
twelfth century before our era, but with every reserve. If later
we may be more precise, it will surely be in increasing rather
than in diminishing the distance which separates us from that
period."

WILLIAM SETON.

354 A PAUPERS CHRISTMAS. [Dec.,

A PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS.

" RUSHVILLE ! "

The very intonation of the tall brakeman who thrust his head
in at the half-opened door was an intimation that few passengers
were expected to alight, and that those who chose to do so were
distinctly of the " no-account " sort. The truth that the train
was " slowing-up " dawned at last upon the consciousness of a
person in the rear of the car, who found some difficulty in ad-
justing his physical belongings to the stern necessity of an im-
mediate retirement from the warm and comfortable corner where
his lean and well-worn satchel was his only companion.

The ruddy-faced conductor felt constrained to translate in a
truly literal sense the rough suggestion of the passenger to " give
a lift," for the old man was thin and poorly clad ; the only evi-
dence of comfort in his wardrobe being a strong pair of " double
streaked " mittens, such as Ruddyface had not seen since the
days of his childhood, when a loving grandmother had knitted
them in turn for each male member of an old-fashioned house-
hold. So strong was the rush of memory that he scarcely heard
the quavering voice that questioned as to the location of the
" County House." " It is too far for you to walk," was his an-
swer. " You ought to have written to Petty that you were com-
ing ; he's a capital, good-hearted man and never minds driving
his big bays down." He waved a vigorous protest against longer
delay, swung himself easily to the platform and was gone. Not
so agile, however, was the passenger. He lingered a moment in
the wintry wind, and then, tightening his red comforter about his
wrinkled throat, gripped the satchel closer and stepped forward.
Before the train had passed out of sight Ruddyface saw him
cautiously crossing the track, and sighed as he thought : " It's a
pity Petty did not meet him. The old fellow ought to have one
more ride in life, but I guess likely his next will be in a close
carnage drawn by a black horse." Then the supposed pauper
slipped from his mind, and he went back cheerily to the mono-
tonous duty of punching pasteboard and reminding delinquents
that they might have saved five cents by getting tickets.

Meanwhile, the passenger found the cold wind at his back to
be a friend in need. It greatly helped him onward, and seemed
to stimulate his mental faculties, for he began to plan his coming
campaign.

1891.] A PAUPERS CHRISTMAS. 355

Less than an hour after the arrival of the train at Rush-
ville Mr. Joshua Petty, as he liked to be called, opened the
heavy front door of the big stone alms-house in response to a
vigorous blow by the " knocker." He was accustomed to find
his visitors pinched and despondent, but here was a man who
had passed the limit of threescore years and ten, feeble in body,
yet with the light of youthful enthusiasm sparkling in his eye,
and a quick smile responding to the kindly greeting of the poor-
master.

"Is Cynthy Dobell here?"

" He has got a mean face, yet kinder human withal," was
the thought that crossed Joshua Petty's mind as he measured
his reply : " Y-e-s."

" Tell her I want to see her, will ye ? " The stranger made
haste to enter, and the poormaster pointed to a small, square
room on the right where an uninviting bareness was the con-
spicuous feature.

However tired the newcomer was, he did not sit down ; the
lean satchel was deposited on the floor near the door, and the
keen eyes peered into the entry, along whose bare floor some
one was slowly walking. It . was a woman. She limped and
rested her hand on a stout stick. As she neared the door the
person who watched her could see that she was very erect,
spare in flesh, and with the peculiar deadness of color that be-
longs to aged people who have once been fair. Her hair was
soft and fine, and its silver strands were partly concealed by a
coarse but clean cap. Her thin lips parted in a smile as she
saw the man, but in his eager recognition he gave her no time
to recall his features.

" Cynthy," he said, grasping her hand " Cynthy Dobell, don't
you remember Lige Dane ?"

Her voice was a little tremulous as she replied softly, " I
guess I do." He had not released her hand when she reminded
him of her lameness. " I ain't as spry as I used to be, Ligy ;
I'll hev to set." She sank into the rush-bottomed chair by the
window and drew her spectacles from her pocket. She looked
out of doors first, and then turned her glance full upon him.

" I declare 'tis you, Ligy ; but we're both on us changed."

" It didn't take no glasses to make me see it was you, Cyn-
thy," he answered in a disappointed tone ; adding slowly, " I
hate to find you in the caounty house."

" Oh ! that ain't nothin' to some afflictions, Ligy. Mister Petty
he keeps it awful good ; his wife's never stinching about things.

356 A PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS. [Dec.,

We hev full an' plenty vittles, clean beds, an' a chair apiece by
the fire, an' Sis reads the Good Book to us every blessed night ;
I dunno as I hev anythin' to complain of. It seems to me you
kinder need lookin' after ; you ain't fleshed up no more than me,
an' you look somethin' more peaked than years had orter make
you. Hain't ye well ? Be ye hungry ? I'll jest step an' ask
Mis' Petty fur a cup o' tea an* a cracker."

" Don't go, Cynthy," he said eagerly ; " I hain't hungry fer
nothin' but jest seein' you." She dropped back into her chair,
half-frightened at the intensity of his emotion. " Cynthy, you
hain't afraid to hear me talk to ye ? "

She shook her head and wiped her glasses vigorously, as if
thereby to perceive more clearly his meaning. She pointed out
to him, too, the remaining chair, and he drew it so close to her
side that the trembling of his lip was perceptible to her. " Well,
Ligy?"

" It's most Christmas ag'in, Cynthy." " Yes."

" Do you recollect the last time we sot together ?" " Yes."

" It was that drefful cold time when the roads was snowed
chock full, an' I was teamin' fer Pelig Johnson, an' you was
tailorin'."

" Yes, when I hev a smart turn now I tailor fer the men an'
boys, but land ! the fashions is so changed, though your coat
don't show it much Be ye poor, Lige ?"

He started. A deep flush like anger spread over his face.
" Never mind, never mind ! " she said quickly, thinking she had
vexed him. " A friend was always more to me then his coat."

"'Be I a friend?"

" Why not, Ligy ?"

" I dunno as I want to be." She moved as if to rise. " Stop,
Cynthy ; I can't seem to sense it that we're old, and in a
caounty house. It's like as if we was on them steps ag'in, lead-
ing to the granery, and you ought to hev a red hood."

" Why do you talk of that, Ligy ?"

" Because, Cynthy, I can't never forgive myself that I didn't
ask you to be my wife She trembled. " S'pose I ask ye
now, Cynthy ? I ain't no pauper ; I've got full and plenty fer
both of us." A beautiful color overspread her thin cheek, but
she shook her head. " Listen, Cynthy. You'd be awful well
took keer of, an' I most know you leant to me onct." Her
flush deepened.

" Don't, Ligy," she said ; " maybe there was a time

" Wasn't it that night ?"

1891.] A PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS. 357

" Well, p'raps it was. Yes, Ligy, I'm free to confess I did
lean to ye, an' if you had a-spoken why likely enough "

" It hain't too late now." Still she shook her head.

" Yes, Ligy, it's all too late." The moisture in her own eyes
prevented her seeing the tears that trembled on lids that had
not been wet in years. There was silence.

" Cynthy," he said at last, " ye don't know how I've sot my
heart on sharin' with you ; how I've thought about you when I
was workin'."

" Yes, Ligy, I know all about it. Fer years I could not give
it up but that some day you'd come, somethin' like you've
come now, and fetch me off with ye. I'd a-gone quick indeed ;
but now it's too late. The things we sets our hearts on are
sure to come round, but it's mostly when the appetite's gone.
No, I couldn't now."

"Tell me why."

" I dunno as I kin."

"Ah, Cynthy, I wisht you knew jest how much I'd like to
see ye out o' the caounty house and sharin' with me."

" I do know, Ligy, well enough, how you feel .about it, fer
I'd feel jest so myself, knowing you had nothin' and me all ;
but I can't do it."

There was no fire in the little room, but great drops of per-
spiration trickled down the man's face. He stooped over the
lean satchel and nervously opened and shut its worn clasp.

" Cynthy," he said at last, " I've got to tell ye somethin'
more. You asked about my money, an' I didn't mean to tell ye
till after we was married ; fer I thought if you loved me enough
to marry me you would sure love me enough to forgive me, an'
your love is the only thing I've ever keered for. I was too
a'mighty poor fer twenty year to keep a wife ef I had her. Then
that old uncle of yourn, that was all the relashun you had, give me
a hum, an' I nussed him when he died, an' he left me that there
quarry-hole all he had in case you was dead, as he s'posed.
It turned out to be a fine stone that lay away where we couldn't
see it, an' I sold out a share to a man who is workin' it. There
may be a big fortune there, an' I needn't hev hunted you up.
I'm jest naturally a mean man, but I jest couldn't help it. I'd
got to find you, if you was on earth. There was a twitchin' at
my heart every time I thought of you an' the red hood, an' I
didn't keer more'n a meal o' vittles fer the whole quarry ef I
couldn't hev you too. So I set off an' I found you, an' now you
won't hev me nohow, an' the papers is all there in the

358 A PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS. [Dec.

satchel, an* I'll jest say good-by an' leave 'em. I s'pose there's
somethin' the law might do, but I dunno. There ain't no more
fer me in the world. If you was here I could stay even in a
caounty house too ; but you'll be goin' now so I can't stand
caounty vittles."

He drew the comforter again about his neck, and lifting the
satchel set it on the chair beside her.

Mechanically Cynthy opened it, and saw that its contents
were simply a package of legal documents and a big red hood.
She spread the papers over the floor, utterly at a loss to under-
stand them. Then she fingered the bonnet as if it were a child,
and at last slipped it on her head. The very touch of the wool
sent her into dreamland. Long she sat, her eyes fixed on the
documents at her feet, her lips parted as if to speak, but oblivi-
ous to all before her.

The tea-bell was sounded at five o'clock, but she did not
know it. The winter twilight deepened and the cold grew in-
tense. At last she was conscious of Joshua Petty's voice ringing
through the house, but it did not disturb her until he touched
her arm and shouted in her ear :

" What's the matter, Miss Dobell ? You'll be havin' pneumo-
ny too, next thing. What on earth did you let go that poor
streaked-mitten man for in all this freezin' weather? If it hadn't
a-been for my goin' to get groceries for the wimmin's Christ-
mas fixin's he'd a-froze stiff alongside the rail fence. I fetched
him home, but he's a-lyin' in a dead sleep, an' goodness knows if
ever he'll wake. I most thought the same of you. It's queer
business."

Even then her consciousness returned but partially. She
stooped with an effort and gathered up her papers, but she kept
the hood on as she limped slowly down the entry. Mr. Petty
followed her with a handful of bills that had fallen from the
satchel.

"What's all this?" he demanded, almost angrily. " Who you
been a-robbin' ? " But she motioned him away, only whispering :
" It's hisen I dunno but I reckon its fer a caounty-house
Christmas."

It was high noon on Christmas day. Without the sun shone
on the crusted snow, and long icicles glistened from the eaves.
The evergreens were laden with spangles, and the crisp air be-
tokened a polar temperature. Within the alms-house all was
warmth and light. The shades were lifted to admit a broad

1891.] A PAUPERS CHRISTMAS. 359

stream of sunshine. The doors of the first floor were thrown
wide, and in a room not far from the dining-room, where long
tables were spread with clean linen and abundance of Christmas
cheer, were two cots from which a pair of aged invalids looked
out upon the gathering about . the well-spread board. Qtrietly
the men and women filed into the bright room. Silently they
awaited the blessing that Joshua Petty called down upon them,
and when his voice quaveringly besought the favor of the Heav-
enly Kingdom in behalf of those about to pass from earth, a
suppressed sob echoed through the place. But it is not in the
nature of those long bereft of material comforts to resist their
alluring presence, and the county charges rarely had the op-
portunity to revel in the luxuries now spread before them.
Quickly their tears were changed to smiles, and .in the enjoy-
ment of plenteous platters they forgot the circumstance of the
getting. So absorbed were the paupers in their pudding that
no one heard the low voices from the hospital cots.

" Cynthy, it is Christmas, ain't it ? 'Pears to me I scent tur-
key and cranberries."

" Yes, Ligy, we're goin' hum now I thought better of it and
come with ye. It's awful cold, but my hood keeps me het up ;
but somehow it keeps the light out."

"Give me your hand, Cynthy; it is a-gettin' dark; but you
seem to be settin' alongside that picter of the Virgin and her
Infant that used to hang on the peg in Pelig Johnson's kitchen,
left there by his hired man. Seems like she's a-callin' you."

"Ligy, I'm glad I -come. I told you onct that I couldn't,
but it's all right ; there's somethin' awful peaceful about Christ-
mas. I guess likely it'll be Christmas for ever in Heaven. The
good Lord don't never forgit us, an' if I thought a spell ago that
our best wishin's comes to a real too late, I know now it's all
a mistake, fer it's jest as clear to my mind as readin' was when
I didn't hev to wear glasses, that the way's always open to us>
an' the reward's a-waitin' fer them as patiently earns it. I've
tried to lend a hand to some of these poor critters that the
Lord didn't lend much sense to, and when I thought you'd forgot-
ten me, I laid a-bed nights an' repeated over an' over: 'Well, I'll
jest try to make my loss somebody's else blessin', an' if the
Lord has enough to go round, maybe some day, here or here-
after, mine will come. Ligy's a good man an' I hope I'll see
him in Heaven.' "

There was a sob in his voice as the dying man replied :
" Cynthy, I hain't never earned this, but I do know the scales

360 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Dec.,

has fallen from my eyes, as the Good Book tells, an' I 'most can
see how beautiful Heaven is. It's pretty near now ; we won't
hev to wait long." Then his mind wandered a little, and he
smiled as he said, "The Lord has loaned me the quarry-hole
money, and you needn't never be afeared, fer I've got full an'
plenty to hire a team whenever you git tired." She thrust out
her feeble right arm and groped about until she reached Elijah
Dane's weak hand, his fingers closed over her wrist, and a great
hush fell upon them.

The paupers did not hear a strange footfall, nor the rush of
wings, yet a messenger had come and gone, and two spirits had
taken flight during the Christmas dinner.

S. M. H. G.

THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY.

THE conversion of the Visigoths to Catholicity was a terrible
disappointment to the Jews in Spain. Although the fathers of
the Third Council of Toledo had shown in their regard so much
benignity and indulgence, as has been demonstrated in foregoing
pages, it is nevertheless certain that the Jews, accustomed in
the past to turn the influence of the governing power against
the persecuted Catholics, could not make up their minds to
accept the position of defeat, nor look with resignation upon
their former victims in the enjoyment of the benefits of peace
and the advantages resulting from triumph. On the other hand
the decrees of the Third Council, although inspired in behalf of
the mere defence of Catholics against Jewish perversion, placed
the latter in a rather precarious situation, by rendering their
position difficult in the new order of things and lessening their
ability and cunning towards searching for ways to frustrate the
foresight of the Catholic bishops, and to hinder the efficacy of
the measures adopted by them for the purpose of defence.

Seventeen years after the council above referred to had been
held Sisebuto ascended the throne. He was bent upon stopping
the abuses imputed to the Jews, and resolved to re-establish in
all their vigor the laws made by Ricaredo, " which course," says
a historian, " would have gained for him the approval of the
episcopate and the applause of the Catholic population." Nor
could it be otherwise, since the main aim of Sisebuto's legisla-

1 89 1 .] THE JE ws IN EARL Y SPANISH HISTOR Y. 36 1

tion was to free the Christian serfs from the implacable tyranny
of their Jewish masters by compelling the latter to manumit
them, by absolutely prohibiting their being thereafter purchased
or donated, under penalty for disobedience of losing, not only the
serfs but all their other possessions as well. The laws in ques-
tion provided, by way of compensation, that the status of con-
verts from Judaism should be on a par with that of Christians,
and in this way invested the former with complete civic rights.

King Sisebuto had appointed the calends of July as the
latest date for compliance with his decrees ; disobedient offen-
ders against them were threatened with the penalty of the loss,
not only of all their Christian serfs but also of half of their
other property. The Jews then concluded that this time con-
tumacy would prove more efficacious than the hypocritical sub-
mission which they had been accustomed to practise before, and
far from yielding obedience to the decrees, made a boast of
violating them. In consequence, Sisebuto, when the time was
up, promulgated his famous edict, banishing for ever all He-
brews from the Visigoth Empire, with exemption only for such
as might embrace Christianity. But this last provision, disap-
proved by the Catholic prelates, and of their number particu-
larly by St. Isidore,* had for its only result to make matters
worse, for many Jews fled to France, others took refuge in
Africa, and a large number consented to be baptized in order
to avoid persecution.

The contest between the Hebrew and Christian populations
now became in every respect implacable. So great in those
days was their incompatibleness that one of the two was bound
to disappear and give way to the other, else both had to live
in the midst of continual reprisals which, from their constant
tendency to weaken the realm more and more, laid it open to
become a prey to the designs of foreign ambition. The pre-
parations for the Arab invasion were then started, and the Visi-
goth Empire was fated to last just long enough to give time for
the web of conspiracy to be woven for its downfall.

The Christians were a majority, and looked for support to
the strength of the royal throne ; the Jewish minority, which
surpassed them in cunning and guile, being possessors of far
more wealth, relied on its power to gain their ends. In con-
sequence the contention could have no different ending than

* St. Isidore affirms that Sisebuto's proceeding was non secundum scientiam (not accord-
ing to knowledge), and that potestate enim compulit quos .provocare fide oportuit (because
he compelled by power those who should have been won to faith). Historia Got/torum,
Era cl.

362 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Dec.,

just what happened the furthering of conquest by a foreign foe.
In this matter the Jews acted the part of the false mother
before the judgment seat of Solomon, who preferred that the
child in dispute should be killed sooner than be handed over to
her rival. After the death of Sisebuto, in 621, the Jewish con-
verts returned to their former faith. The Christians were indig-
nant and exasperated, and the struggle between both parties
sprang up afresh to such lengths that it became necessary to
promptly bring to bear new decrees against the Jews, the lead-
ing one of which set forth the sound doctrine that Christian
belief was not to be forced on them. Five years after the
Fourth Council had promulgated the decrees in question, the
Sixth Council was held during the reign of Chintila. The
decrees of that body give a clear idea of the extremity to
which things had reached, for by them not only were thanks
tendered to the monarch for having prohibited settlement and
habitation in the Visigoth realms to any person not a Christian,
by which Jewish perfidy was made to relent, but they besides
ordered expressly " that a sovereign elect should not be allowed
to take possession of the kingdom unless he positively bound
himself by oath not to favor the Jews in any way or shape."
"The impatience of these," says a historian, "was not repressed
by these measures, so that the fathers of the Eighth Council,
held during the reign of Recesvinto, found themselves under the
absolute necessity* of re-enacting the ordinance making it obli-
gatory on the king elect to swear * to defend the faith against
Jewish perfidy' " f The king, in view of these measures binding
upon him, and of a real necessity of the state, ordained various
measures having reference to the Jews, who seemed for a time
pacified thereby ; although their apparent quiet may have been
mere dissimulation, practised to cover the doings of conspiracy
which were soon to develop into alarming deeds. The ordi-
nances of the Ninth and Tenth Councils evidence the tran-
quillity and confidence with which the Catholics were inspired by
the submission of the Jews, for they contain no new enactments
in regard to the latter, who, to all appearance, were subdued by
the rigor of previous legislation directed against them. Never-
theless there lay under this attitude of tranquillity and seeming
acquiescence a very great peril for the Christian state, as was
shown later on by two occurrences, one of which was the set-
ting on foot of the bloody disaster of the Mussulman invasion.

No sooner had Wamba ascended the throne than an uprising

* Amador de los Rios' work, already quoted. t Eighth Council, Canon 10.

1891.] THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 363

took place in Gothic Gaul. History has not been able to
clearly reveal the plot which brought it about, but all the atten-
dant circumstances indicate deep design and extensive foregoing
preparation. We have already mentioned that during the reign
of Sisebuto many Jews, in order to escape his famous decree
of expulsion, took refuge in Gaul, others in Africa, in both of
which lands of exile insurrection, by singular coincidence, broke
forth. Of these we shall give a sketchy account.

Hilderic, Count of Nimes, in contravention of the repeated
decrees of the Councils of Toledo, had extended to the Jews
splendid hospitality. The Visigoth dominions extended at that
time beyond the Pyrenees, on the territory now belonging to
France, and comprised, besides others, the province then known
as Septimania. Hilderic refused to recognize the authority of
Wamba and proclaimed himself independent. The king, who is
said to have acted under motives which historical criticism, in
view of his well-known character of activity and valor, cannot
accept, sent against Hilderic a Greek general named Paulus,
who, seeking to turn the military operations confided to his
command to his own personal advancement, after having pro-
claimed Wamba's election void, caused himself to be proclaimed
king, and by his rapid movements made himself master of nearly
all Septimania. Tidings of the treason of his general having
reached Wamba while in warfare to subdue the Basques, he
immediately determined to set out against him, contrary to the
advice of some of his officers that he should return to Toledo
and take more time to prepare for the expedition. Their coun-
sel has a suspicious appearance and leads to a surmise how well
arranged was the conspiracy, and that it was directed by leaders
cunning and wealthy. Wamba rejected the advice thus given
him, and marching intrepidly into Septimania, put down the
insurrection in a very short time and captured Paulus, whom,
with other insurgent generals, he took as prisoners of war to
Toledo, and afterwards generously spared their lives. That the
Jews took part in these events may have been inferred from our
narrative so far, but we will add that during the short time the
rebellion lasted Gothic Gaul was overrun by Jews who, casting
aside their dissimulation, declared themselves openly in favor of
the rebels, going to the length of joining them in taking up
arms, which shows that they founded hopes on the success of
the conspiracy. Nor is there room for doubt on this point, for,
while the troubles above mentioned were going on in the north,
events of far greater gravity were taking place in the south,

364 THE JE ws IN EARL Y SPANISH HISTOR Y. [Dec.,

where the Hebrews could rely on powerful means of warfare
against the land of their adoption.

During the year 675, as related in Arab narratives and by
Alfonso III. in his chronicle (the authorship of which has been
attributed to Sebastian, Bishop of Salamanca), the Arabs, who
then were in recent possession by conquest of North Africa,
threatened Tangiers and equipped 272 vessels with intent to
cross the straits and capture Algeziras. Great must have been
the surprise of King Wamba on getting tidings that this new
foe had turned up against the attacked Visigoth dominion. An
evil genius seemed, as it were, to delight in stirring up enemies
to it in every quarter. The king lost no time in going to meet
the new foe, and, either through better fortune or greater skill
in naval manoeuvres, succeeded in repelling the Arabs and sink-
ing the greater part of their fleet. By this first victory disap-
pointment was inflicted on the perfidious enemies of Spain.

During Egica's reign the Jews obtained some favor at the
hands of the bishops assembled in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth
Councils, and it went so far as to concede to converts from
Judaism the distinctive appellation of noble and honorable
(nobiles atque honorabiles), and, as stated by a historian, to open
to them the way to a sincere and fruitful reconciliation.* . But
in 694 it happened that King Egica unseasonably called together
a new national council at Toledo, and laid before it a memorial
in which he charged the Jews in the Visigoth realms of plotting,
in concert with their co-religionists in other countries beyond
the seas, against the safety of the state.

Judging from the alarm which the royal disclosures aroused
among the fathers then and there assembled, the danger must
have seemed great, for, in accord with the grandees and counts
palatine, they did not vacillate in proposing confiscation of the
property of the Jews, who were to be handed over to the con-
trol of their own Christian serfs, and were to be obliged to
place their children to be educated under the guardianship of
virtuous Christian men ; and Jewish subjects proving refractory
and disobedient were to be severely punished. " Excessive in-
deed," says Amador de los Rios, " were these resolves of the
monarch and council ; great and immeasurably imperative must
have seemed the necessity which impelled them to go to such
lengths ; sacred, and to a certain extent incumbent on them, was
their duty to save the country 'from the servitude with which it
was threatened in consequence of the combination of the Jews

* Work already quoted.

THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 365

in Spain with their brethren in other countries to take revenge
on their Catholic fellow-subjects for injuries suffered in the past,
by means of inviting the followers of Mohammed to invade the
peninsula who seventeen years later were to bring about the
destruction of the Visigoth Empire.

" Why a king who only a year before had conferred upon
Jewish converts the boon of nobility, of such great value in
those days, which placed them at once on a par with the best
Visigoth families, an advancement never vouchsafed to the His-
pano-Latin subjects, should now come out against them with so
great severity and harshness, can only be accounted for by the
fact that he was deeply indignant at ingratitude and deception
practised upon him. Subsequent events, if they do not complete-
ly justify, at least explain the wrath of the king and the fierce
rigor of the council, as unlooked-for as it was beyond bounds."*

In these times, so fraught with peril, Witiza ascended the
throne. Not content, as a chronicle expresses it,f with provok-
ing the ire of God by his vices, he placed himself in the hands
of the Jews, who in a very short time reached a preponderance
in Spain greater than ever before. It will suffice to say that the
new monarch ordered the canons and laws directed against Jew-
ish perversity promulgated during preceding reigns to be re-
pealed, that he released the Jews who had received baptism
from the obligations of the oath which they had taken, and
finally that he raised to high positions many descendants of that
proscribed race.

" The Jews," as stated by a historian whom we have so often
quoted, " having in a short time acquired a really dangerous pre-
ponderance, improved to their advantage every opportunity favor-
able to their purpose which came in their way, and doubtless
laying new plans for revenge, prepared themselves secretly to
retaliate for the wrongs undergone by them under the Visigoth
rule." \

Chroniclers as truthful and reliable as the great prince Don
Alfonso III., John of Biclara, the monk of Silos, and others
besides, relate that Witiza levelled to the ground all the strong-
holds of the realm with the exception of three only, and or-
dered all the weapons of warfare to be burned. Were these
measures taken in compliance with malevolent suggestions from
his own new counsellors? Everything seems to indicate this.

* In the work so repeatedly quoted from, vol. i. chapter ii. pages 100 and 101.

\ElCronicon Moissiacense (918).

\ Amador de los Rios' work, already quoted from, vol. i. p. 103.

366 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Dec.,

The mine was charged and lacked only a spark to make it ex-
plode. Let us see now how the catastrophe took place.

VI.

In Witiza's time the Visigoth Empire extended from the
Rhone to Fez, in Africa. The distinguished historian Dory's
statement that Tingitania belonged to the Byzantine Empire is
incorrect. Count Julian, though he bore. a Roman name, was of
the Visigoth race, and had been appointed by Witiza governor of
Ceuta. The Arabs, led by Muza, had invaded Tingitania in the
early part of the eighth century. In 707 Tangier, its capital, had
been compelled to surrender. While the earldom of Ceuta, get-
ting constant succor from Spain, kept up its defence, Count
Julian entered into a pact with the foes of his country, and
after having signed a disgraceful treaty of alliance, declared him-
self in open rebellion against his sovereign, Witiza. In the au-
tumn of 709 he crossed the strait, and, after dealing desolation
to the territory of Algeziras, came back over the sea with rich
booty and many captives. *

Don Rodrigo's reign had not then begun, he having ascended
the throne only in January, 711. How, then, can the revolt of
Count Julian be attribute'd to the motive of the dishonor brought
upon his daughter Florinda, more usually known by the name of
La Caba? Nothing of the sort ever took place. The rebel
count began his treasonable acts against his native land while
Witiza reigned, to whom he was indebted for special favors. If,
after his sovereign's death, he afforded an asylum to his son, the
discontented and badly-advised prince, it was because they were
willing to favor his plans and to give a decent appearance to his
.infamous conduct. In July, 710, Witiza still holding the royal
authority, Muza and Taric, encouraged by the successful result
of the prior expedition, sent another made up of four hundred
foot and one hundred horse, who were carried across the strait in
four vessels furnished by Count Julian by order of Tarif Abu
Zara, and returned to Ceuta with rich spoils, f Who contrived
this alliance of Count Julian with the Arabs ? Who set on foot
these expeditions, which are unaccountable unless we assume the
fact that the raiding band felt sure of meeting allies on the
coasts of Spain ? Let us see what Dory relates, who is a histo-
rian always inclined to sympathize with Moors and Jews : " Dur-
ing twenty-four years the Jews bore their sufferings in silence ;

*Almaccari, i. 158.

+ Aribben Sad-Ajbar Machmua, 20; Archbishop Don Rodrigo, iii. 19; Almaccari, i. 159.

1891.] THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 367

but at last their patience gave out and they resolved to take
revenge on their oppressors. About 694, seventeen years before
Spain was conquered by the Moslems, they planned a general
insurrection in concert with their co-religionists beyond the strait,
where many Berber tribes professed Judaism, and many Jews,
exiles from Spain, had taken refuge." The uprising was proba-
bly intended to break out simultaneously at several points as
soon as the African Jews had made landing on the coasts of
Spain." * Thus says Dory, an authority in nowise subject to
suspicion of being partial to the cause of Spanish Christians.
Manifestations of the conspiracies of the Jews began in 694 ;
would there be matter for wonder if they kept them up in suc-
cessive stages and by divers ways until they had -accomplished
the ruin of Spain ?

Finally Don Rodrigo ascends the throne. Thereupon the
relatives of Witiza, whether urged to do so or not, made haste
to league with the conspirators, and when, in April of 711,
Count Julian and Taric, with an army of twelve thousand Jewish
and Arab adventurers, set sail for Spain, the Hebrews of the
peninsula were ready to welcome them and to help, as we shall
see further on, the plans of the invaders. " In the meanwhile,"
relates Fernandez Guerra, " the revolutionists managed to arouse
to rebellion the indomitable Basques, thereby compelling Rodri-
go to march off to the Pyrenees and lay siege to Pamplona,
while the Arabs, after crossing the strait, were seizing the Rock
of Gibraltar and fortifying themselves upon it." f Do not
these facts, entirely verified both by Arab and Christian histo-
rians, conclusively show a plan of conspiracy ably devised by
people influential and crafty as the Jews were ? Who but they
could extend the field for treasonable action from Africa to the
territory of the Basques, from Toledo to Ceuta, and collect th2
funds needed for these expeditions by the enemies of the Visi-
goth Empire ?

Subsequent events serve to throw light on these points which
it has been the disposition of the conspiracy to cover up in his-
torical obscurity.

" The co-operation of the Jews," asserts Fernandez Guerra,
viper which over-confiding Spain had allowed to take shelter in
her bosom, "were of avail to Taric and the dastardly Count Julian
for gaining incredible victories." In fact, even the Arab chroni-
clers attest that strong fortresses and important cities, in which

*Dory, Histoire des Musulmans d'Espagne, edition of 1801, vol. ii. p. 27.
t Don Rodrigo y la Caba, p. 43.

VOL. LIV. 24

368 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Dec.,

the Israelite race was prominent by numbers and wealth, and
which undoubtedly would have cost Taric's forces a great ex-
penditure of blood to get possession of, were surrendered to him
by the Hebrews, to whom they were afterwards given in charge
to guard and who fraternized with the African invaders. Now
let us hear the chroniclers repeating the same tale.

" When the invaders," as we read in Ajbar Machmua, " came
to a district where the Jews were numerous, they assembled
them in the chief town, and leaving with them a detachment
of Mussulman troops, the main body continued its onward
march." The following extracts are taken from the text of the
same chronicle : " Moquets gathered together the Jews of Cor-
dova and gave them in custody that city to defend " ; " Muza
confided the safeguard of the city of Seville to the Jews who
were in it " ; " They laid siege to the city of Elvira, and after its
surrender they found many Jews, in whose charge they left it to
be guarded." *

But the clearest evidence of Jewish perfidy and conspiracy
appears in the capture of the city of Toledo, which Wamba had
fortified with towers, and which from its strong position was im-
pregnable. Let us look up the records of the renowned chroni-
cler of Queen Berenguela, Bishop Don Lucas of Tuy. He
relates that in the year 715, the Visigoth capital (Toledo) having
been invested by the Arab commander Toriq ben Zayad, the
Christian inhabitants of the city went out on Palm Sunday to
the near-at-hand basilica of St. Leocadia to celebrate therein
the Passion of our Lord. The Jews, taking advantage of their
absence, delivered over the seat of government of Leovigildo and
Ricaredo to the besiegers, the Christians having been massacred
partly in the plain and partly in the basilica itself."

All the historians of Toledo, inclusive of the venerable Arch-
bishop Don Rodrigo Gimenez de Rada, in his Latin and Span-
ish chronicles,t agree in this statement of facts. " In view of these
facts," writes Amador de los Rios, " there can be no doubt that
there existed between these two peoples, the Arab and the Jew-
ish, a certain kind of combination and concerted action which
seemed to proceed from secret sympathies and understandings, if
not from former pacts and alliances." Another learned member
of the Academy of History, referring to Amador de los Rios'
book, in a luminous paper, read at a meeting of the academi-
cians, thus exclaimed : " Seftor Amador de los Rios makes no at-

' *An anonymous chronicle of the eleventh century, published now for the first time,
translated and commented upon by Senor Laf uente y Alcantara in the Coleccion de obras Arab"
igas de Historia y Geografia. Published by the Academy of History, vol. i. pp. 25, 27, 29.
t De rebus in Hispania gestis Chronicon, lib. iii. chap, xxiii.

1 891.] THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. 369

tempt to smooth over facts concerning the Jews, while we, less
indulgent to that race, openly and loudly accuse them of having
conspired against the safety of the state and of having effica-
ciously assisted toward the fall and ruin of Spain."*

Modern writers who have studied old Arab and Christian
chroniclers all express themselves, with slight variations, in the
sense above stated. For instance, we may cite the German wri-
ters Graetzf and Nefele, \ the Portuguese Herculano, the Bel-
gian Dory, I and as for Spaniards, from the very learned Father
Florez down to Menendez Pelayo 1" all concur in accusing the
Jews of having conspired against their adoptive country. We al-
low ourselves, relying on what the old chroniclers tell, having
gone more deeply into the study of this historical question, to '
affirm that the Jews, and they only, attracted the Arab hosts to
Spain. If Witiza's sons, if Count Julian and other Goths, took
part in the revolution, it was only a repetition which ever hap-
pens, that all malcontents range themselves under the banner of
treason and rebellion. The Jews it was who initiated the per-
fidious plan, who spread the nets of conspiracy, who brought
together wills so varied, and who in a word opened the gates of
Spain to the Arab invaders.

Is this co-operation of theirs to be attributed to race sympa-
thies or affinities, or to traditional alliances ? To nothing of the
sort. Between Moslems and Jews profound antagonisms have,
always existed. " In the estimation of the believers in the teach-
ings of Mohammed," says Amador de los Rios, "the Jews were:
false, unbelievers, contemners of the Scriptures, calumniators ofr
the true religion, disobedient to God, and bearing on their foreheadis;
the curse of David and of Jesus. " Learn," says Mohammed to> Ms;
followers, " that those who foster the most violent hatred against
the faithful are Jews and idolaters" (sura Valeya, 85).** What

* Don Manuel Colmeito, Bulletin of the Academy of History, vol. i. part i, p.. 70.

t Los Judios de Espana, chap. i. p. 49.

\ El Cardinal Cisneros y la Yglesia Espanolo, 1844.

Historia de Portugal, vol. iii. lib. 7, part i, page 208.

1 Histoire des Musulmans d< Espagne , vol. ii. p. 27.

1 " It is an established fact," says Menendez Pelayo, " that the Arab invasion was iniquf-
tously promoted by the Jewish inhabitants of Spain. They opened to the invaders the gates
of the principal cities, and were enabled to do this because they were numerous and wealthy
and had conspired before during the reign of Egica, thereby putting in jeopardy the safety of
the state. The seventeenth council, by reducing them to slavery, punished them pretty sever-
ly for their conduct, but Witiza favored them anew and they made return for his patronage
by taking part in the plots of all the malcontents in the realm. The native population could
have withstood the handful of Arabs that crossed the strait, but Witiza had disarmed the for-
mer, towers of defence had been levelled to the ground, and the lances in the armories had
been converted into hackles and rakes. There is no mention in history of a conquest effected
more rapidly than the one in question." Historia de los Heterodoxos Espanoles, edition of
1880, vol. i. page 216. ** V/ork already quoted, vol. i. p. n6.

370 THE JEWS IN EARLY SPANISH HISTORY. [Dec.,

room can there be for doubt that the actual alliance in question
was grounded on antecedent leagues, based, it seems, on the hatred
of one of the parties to them and on the ambition of the other,
and that these compacts were arranged through the cunning and per-
fidy of the Jews, who indulged in the dream of bringing their adop-
tive country under the yoke of the Mussulmans? They finally
accomplished their design and enjoyed the gratification of their
revenge, but it happened in this case, as it does in all treasona-
ble acts, that the traitor suffers the penalty of his own misdeeds.
The Jews brought over the Arabs in order to free themselves
from the rule of the Visigoths, but under the dominion of their
Moslem allies they soon fell into a deeper and harder condition
of subjection. In compensation, the descendants of the Christian
race so deeply detested by them, the posterity of the country's
defenders defeated at Guadalete and of the unfortunates massa-
cred in the Vega of Toledo, became anew their unwary protec-
tors, going to the length of conceding to them in municipal char-
ters equal rights with the Christian population and founders. It
would be an interesting study to trace the condition of the Jews
during the middle ages, whether under Moslem rule or under
the new Christian kingdoms in Spain. But such researches
would be foreign to our purpose, and would lead us too far if we
were to set out to prove that their ingratitude, avarice, and
most appalling crimes,* in time were the means of arousing
against the Hebrew race implacable hatred on the part of our
nation, thereby giving rise to bloody disorders and truly public
calamities. In consequence Queen Isabella and. King Ferdinand
were induced to establish the Inquisition in Spain (February
II, 1482), as a tribunal having for its true origin and main ob-
ject to calm public excitement and moderate mutual rancors ;
and shortly afterwards (March 31, 1492) these sovereigns found
themselves under the further necessity of decreeing the expul-
sion of Jews, publicly known as such; "an unavoidable measure,"
says Menendez Pelayo,f " in order to save that unfortunate race
from incessant and fierce threats of popular riots."

The anti-Semitic tendencies of our day constitute a factor
which should be borne in mind in order to arrive at an impar-
tial judgment in regard to the history of the times about which
we have been relating. The historian Prescott bears testimony
in the main to the accuracy of the facts which we have recited,

* The martyrdom of the boy of La Guardia in Toledo (1491) aroused just indignation
throughout Spain, for they (the Jews) performed on his person all the tortures of the Passion
of our Lord, and they set aside his heart for the purpose of perpetrating with it and conse-
crated hosts abominable sorceries. The original judicial records are preserved in the archives
of Alcala de Henares. t Historia de los Heterodoxos Espanoles, vol. i. p. 635.

1891.] THE JE ws IN EARL Y SPANISH His TOR Y. 371

and we quote from him as follows : " Under the Visigoth Em-
pire the Jews multiplied exceedingly in the peninsula, and were
permitted to acquire considerable power and wealth ; but no
sooner had their Arian masters embraced the orthodox faith than
they began to testify their zeal by pouring on the Jews the most
pitiless storm of persecution." On the page following it is stat-
ed that " after the Saracenic invasion, which the Jews, perhaps
with reason, are accused of having facilitated, they resided in the
conquered cities and were permitted to mingle with the Arabs on
nearly equal terms." * Why Prescott should have so faintly al-
luded to and glossed over the immense and exasperating provo-
cation given by the insidious treason against their native land
of which he admits that the Jews were guilty, is probably to be
explained by his manifest prejudice against and dislike of the
Catholic religion, and of the Papacy in particular. These feelings
have led him more than once into misconceptions and blunders,
forming blemishes on his writings, and detracting from their his-
torical value and from his merit as an impartial historian. We
may, therefore, fairly claim for our monarchs in the past and our
forefathers that justice and that indulgence denied to them by
modern historians on the plea of an ill-understood liberty. We
do not assert that popular risings against the Jews have never
taken place in Spain. But who can withstand a unanimous feel-
ing pervading an entire nation ? On the other hand, it should be
admitted that if our codes, beginning with the Fuero Juzgo, con-
tain laws of repression against the Hebrew race, it has been in
nearly every case because of measures needed to preserve our
social and religious unity, as a just remedy and salutary fore-
sight against the transgressions of that proscribed race, the
cause of the downfall of Spain in the eighth century and of
much other evil and disorder recorded in history.

Notwithstanding the abundant injustice and calumny of
which Spain has been made the object, there is no nation of
Europe, neither in ancient nor modern times, where the Jews
have been treated with greater moderation, and their ravaging
misdeeds borne with more patience. Perhaps for this very reason
they, who made return for the mercies of God with rebellion
and deicide, have shown themselves more ungrateful to the Span-
ish people than to any other.

MANUEL PEREZ VILLAMIL,
Member of the^ Royal Academy of History.

Madrid.

* History of Ferdinand and Isabella, vol. i. pp. 348-349.
(CONCLUDED.)

372 THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. [Dec.,

THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN.

WHATEVER else the Royal Commission on the State of Labor
may do or fail in doing, it will certainly materially contribute
to that first and indispensable step, the ascertainment of the facts.
Whether or no a remedy for the evils proved to exist will be
found, is more doubtful. Yet even in this respect the inquiry
will not be fruitless ; an opportunity will be offered for ventilat-
ing theories, examining their practical worth, of showing their
unsoundness if unsound, and, should the worst come to the worst,
it will be a satisfaction to all concerned to be convinced that it
is not the evil and selfish will of man that is to be blamed, but
the conditions under which the human race exists in this imper-
fect state. We hope and believe, however, that the outcome will
be something more satisfactory, and that the inquiries will lead
to practical amelioration of the most crying evils, at all events.
We propose in these notes to indicate the chief causes, in the
opinion of the various witnesses, of existing evils, and the reme-
dies suggested by both sides the employers as well as the em-
ployed.

The first point is the hours of labor and the rate of pay in
the various industries.

The warehousemen employed as permanent hands in the tea
and wool industries make no complaint of the hours of labor,
these being eight per day for eight months of the year, and
seven for the remaining four months. The rate of pay is not so
satisfactory: for the longer day it is about 90 cents a day; for
the shorter, 88 cents. Three holidays are allowed without any
deduction from the wages. The average wage for the year is
$3.60 or $3.94 per week, while for two or three rooms the rent
is from $1.20 to $1.80. For dock-laborers the average rate of
wages is, according to the statements of dock-laborers, as low as
$3.12 per week; although a few earn as much as $12, or even
more. The average rate, low as it is, is nearly 50 per cent, bet-
ter than it was before the great strike of 1889, when $2.16 was
all that was paid per week. How were the men and their fami-
lies able to live at all on these wages ? The dockers' representa-
tive said their food was, as a rule, bread and tea, with or with-
out milk. As to meat, they had it occasionally, paying for it
about four cents per pound. Their clothes were purchased at a rag-

1891.] THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. 373

fair, where suits could be bought for 36 cents. At the East and
West India docks the average wages, even after the strike, are
from $2.64 to $2.88 per week.

These wages seem small enough ; yet the Billingsgate fish-
porters are worse off, for they are obliged to work for nothing
for the salesmen of fish in order to get the right to carry the
fish to the buyer, who pays them for the work done for him.
They have even to pay one penny per package to the " bobber,"
whoever he may be. The average wage secured by these por-
ters under these conditions of labor amounts to $2.16 per week;
no evidence was given as to the number of the hours of work.

One cause of the low wages of so large a number of men
seems the excessive greediness of a few. One of the witnesses
said that at certain wharves men worked regularly twice a week
throughout the year for from 35 to 40 hours at a stretch, receiving
from $12 to $14 per week in payment. This they did although
after three months of this pressure they would be used up. The
witness attributed this to the method adopted by the employers,
who found it more advantageous to themselves ; to us this seems
doubtful. At all events, it is certain that this system could not
be carried on unless men were greedy and imprudent enough
thus to work.

The preceding statements as to the wages of dockers and
other unskilled laborers were made by the men themselves. It is
only fair, however, to hear the other side ; in fact, the special
value of the Royal Commission consists in the opportunity it
affords for making this comparison. Now, with reference to secu-
rity of employment at the docks : the employers, while admitting
that there were necessarily slack as well as busy times, main-
tained that a steady man could get as regular employment there
as in any other occupation. They maintained that the irregular-
ity of employment of which the labor-witnesses complained
was largely their own fault. In particular, one of the witnesses
before the commission was accused of spending the greater part
of his time in agitation, and applying for work only in the in-
tervals, the smallness of his weekly wage, due to his own neglect
of work, being magnified into a grievance against his employers.
The managing owner of the Wilson Hill Line gave evidence
that the whole of the men in their employment received $11 per
week all the year, and that last Christmas, when the papers were
deluged with appeals to the charitable, he had been unable to
get sufficient labor for loading and discharging one of their
steamers.

374 THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. [Dec. y

The fullest statement from the employers' point of view, and the
one which seems to reconcile the otherwise conflicting evidence,
was that of the chairman of the London and India Joint Docks
Committee, and at the risk of wearying our readers we feel bound
in justice to their side to give it at some length. The number
of laborers usually employed by his board is about 6,000. Of
these about 1,750 are permanent laborers, and these have full
work all the year round. A second class of men, numbering about
1,000, is engaged by the week; these, too, have practically full
employment, with a weekly wage in summer of about $6 per
week, in winter of a little over $5, the hours of work in winter
being shorter. The third class of men, numbering about 2,000,
are called " preference men," because they get a preference after
the regular weekly men. Of these, four-fifths get full employ-
ment at the same wages as the former class. The last class is
that of men who are taken on by the day and hour. To this
class the witnesses from among the men whose evidence we
have cited above belonged, and it is only about this class
that they have a right to speak. Their employment is irregular,
but not so irregular as was asserted by them. If we may believe
the employers, two-thirds get full work and the remainder one-
half. The statement that the average wages of a docker was
$2.50 a week this witness pronounced to be incorrect, so far as
regarded the general body of dock-laborers, although it might
be correct as regards the last fifth or sixth of the men calling
themselves dock-laborers. The average wages, he maintained,
were, for fifty-nine per cent, of the men, $7.50 per week; for the
remaining forty-one per cent., $6.25 per week.

It will be seen that the evidence presented to the commission
with reference to the dockers is somewhat conflicting, and it will
be the province of the commissioners to sift the various state-
ments and to give their judgment on the real state of the case.
When we pass to the skilled laborers this difficulty disappears,
and there is no real conflict between the different witnesses as
to the facts.

Of the card and blowing-room operatives of those, that is,
who conduct the first process in dealing with the manufacture of
cotton for men the wages are from $4.56 to $7.20 per week;
for women, from $3.36 to $6.24. For weavers the average
wages are $5.28 per week. The hours of labor are fixed by
the factory acts at 56^ a week, leaving off work at I o'clock
on Saturday. These hours are satisfactory to the work-people,
and there is no desire among them for an alteration, legal or

1891.] THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. 375

otherwise. The wages, however, are not sufficient to enable men
to keep their families without sending their children to work.
The minimum for their necessities would be $7.20 per week.

Passing to miners, the hours of labor in the coal-mines in
Durham, for men engaged in getting and " leading " the coal,
are seven hours " from bank to bank " ; that is, from the time of
leaving the open air till the return to it. For other kinds of
work connected with the mines the hours are longer, 10^
being the longest. The wages change with the price of coal,
and are fixed by negotiations between the associations of the
masters and men. The method of determining wages by a
sliding scale has recently been abolished on the initiative of
the men. The truck system is unlawful in Great Britain.
The miners in Durham, however, live in the houses of the
proprietors of the mines without paying rent. If there are no
houses they get an allowance for them. Coal is supplied at
the price of twelve cents for a fortnight. The Durham miners
are opposed to the regulation of the hours of labor by legisla-
tion. The proposal to work the collieries on a single shift
of eight hours would throw, their representative said, half the
men out of employment. What would be good for one class
would be injurious to another class of workers in the same
mine.

For the iron-miners of Cleveland and North Yorkshire the
standard hours of work are eight hours from bank to bank.
With these hours the men are satisfied. The average wages are
$1.24 per day. Here the men pay the rent themselves, as well
as for their own coals and blasting powder. The average cost
of rent is 82 cents per week.

As we have already said, the irregularity of employment is
one of the serious difficulties with which the working-men in
Great Britain have to contend. As another instance of this, we
have the evidence of the representative of the warehouse employees
engaged in the tea and wool industries. He said that the busy
season lasted three or four, sometimes five, months, and that
during this season 3,500 men were employed, while during the
rest of the year there was work for only 500 men. During the
greater part of the year, therefore, some 3,000 men in this single
department have to get on as they can. Their wages when at
work are too small to render it possible for them to save, and
so in the event of there being no work, they have to part with
their goods and- live on inferior food. For dockers generally
the average employment is seven months of the year. The

376 THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. [Dec.,

immigration of foreigners has also become a matter of great
importance, especially since the enforcement of the rigorous
measures against the Jews in Russia. The representative of the
warehouse employees engaged in the tea and wool industries
said that this work was too hard for the Jews, and that they
entered the easier trades of tailoring, shoemaking, and furniture-
making. They drove out those engaged in those industries, and
the displaced men had to find employment elsewhere, generally
on the docks. Consequently several of the witnesses testified to
the desire of working-men for the enactment of measures restric-
tive of immigration.

The influx of agricultural laborers into London, driven into
the cities either by the hope of higher wages or by that long-
ing for town-life now so prevalent, contributes materially to
increase the difficulties of the lowest class of workmen. By
organizing the country people into trade-unions it is hoped to
prevent their becoming a competing element. We do not find
that any one suggested that the duties on corn should be reim-
posed, and yet there is no doubt that such a reimposition
would secure a higher rate of wages for the agricultural laborers,
and thus prevent them from competing with the workmen in
the cities. But it would at the same time add to the price of
bread, and so what was given with one hand would be taken
away with the other. A representative of the dockers went far
to justify Prince Bismarck's opinion that all labor legislation
Avill be idle and futile, because the call for such legislation arose
only from the inevitable discontent felt by the poorer class on
account of the better fortune of the richer. This witness said
that he believed " the laboring class in general would always be
dissatisfied, not merely because they are so badly off, but be-
cause there is so much wealth in the country and their share is
so small." He qualified this, however, by saying that so soon
as the poorer could live with their families " in comfort " this
discontent would cease.

Coming to the remedies suggested by the different witnesses
for the evils to which those engaged in industrial pursuits are
subjected, every one will be struck by their number and variety,
by the difference of opinion on the subject which exists even
among working-men, and by the fact that the lower down we
go in the scale of labor the more far-reaching and radical are
the changes suggested. We, shall endeavor to indicate the chief
of these remedies, and to show the opinion expressed by the
various witnesses so far as it was elicited. Many technical and

1891.] THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. 377

special suggestions were made which are applicable only to par-
ticular trades, and of those we, of course, take no notice.

In order to secure regularity of employment the representa-
tives of the Docks, Riverside, and General Laborers' Union
would have ship-owners give over competition with one another,
and send their ships to sea after they had been loaded by
men who should work only for fixed hours. The same witness
suggested that the American Contract Law should be adopted
and restrictions passed on immigration. A strong but perhaps
not impracticable proposal was that it should be made a legal
offence for an employer to dismiss a workman because he be-
longed to a union that this should be made legal intimidation.
The abolition of contractors in the case of public works, and the
direct employment and payment of the men employed upon
those works by the municipalities, was another proposal. Many
representatives of unskilled labor were strongly in favor of public
workshops being established for the unemployed. This plan,
which throws upon the state the responsibility for supplying em-
ployment for all who cannot find it for themselves and which in-
volves numerous economical difficulties, many of the witnesses
seem to look upon as within the region of the feasible and prac-
tical. What presses heavily on the minds of this class of labor-
ers is especially the large number of the unemployed ; for what-
ever tends to increase their number is heavily felt by them.
Consequently one of the glories of our modern times labor-saving
machinery falls under the condemnation of several labor repre-
sentatives, and even of one of the representatives of the skilled
laborers. We do not find that they would wish to break
up all machines, but there were those who proposed to put a
heavy tax either upon them or upon all machine-manufactured
goods.

Another way of getting rid of this evil of over-numerous ap-
plicants for work proposed by a well-known labor-leader, Mr.
Quelch, was that all work should cease at sixty years of age,
that no one who had attained that age should be allowed to work
even though he might wish to do so. All men over sixty were to
be provided for by the community, should in fact become pen-
sioners, and should receive as such (if married men) some $7.00
per week an amount about twice the present average earnings
of a docker.

Mr. Ben. Tillett, another noted labor-leader, was able to sug-
gest the ways and means for providing the money for the pay-
ment of these pensions. The cost is not to be placed on the

378 THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREA T BRITAIN. [Dec.,

rates, but on the general taxation of the country. It should fall
upon the excise and customs ; ground-rents should be taxed.
A graduated income-tax, too, might be necessary. Other reme-
dies suggested by Mr. Tillett were, that the docks should be
bought and controlled directly by the people, that there should
be a Ministry of Labor, and that a State Labor Bureau of Arbi-
tration should be established. This brings to an end the sug-
gestions of the unskilled laborers.

When we come to the skilled workmen we have a more
pleasing record of remedies which have been adopted, and which
have met with a large amount of success. In fact, some degree
of contentment with the existing state of things may be found
among this class.* The Secretary to the Amalgamated Society
of Card and Blowing-Room operatives said that those whom he
represented were content with their hours of labor, and that
there was no movement for a change, and this because they re-
cognized that a further limitation of hours would imperil the
prosperity of the trade ; work would go to India, China, or
Japan. There had been no general strike or lockout in recent
years in Lancashire or Cheshire ; only disputes in individual
mills. Both workmen and employers are organized, and this con-
tributes to the settlement of disputes. The weavers have a sort
of conciliation board comprising representatives of both sides, and
this board has never parted on questions of magnitude without
agreeing, except in 1883, when a strike took place. Disputes,
when serious, were the subject, first of all, of correspondence
between the secretaries of the two associations ; if they failed to
agree the case is taken up by the joint committee of six em-
ployers and six operators.

In the Durham Mining Industry disputes are referred to a
joint committee consisting of six owners and six miners, presided
over by the County Court judge. Disputes which cannot conven-
iently be settled by this committee are dealt with by a referee.
A perfect understanding is said to exist between employers and
employed, the joint committee meeting once a fortnight to discuss
matters. The same thing was said of the relation existing be-
tween the owners and the miners in the Cleveland district, where
a joint committee also existed.

Among the means of settling disputes which have been dis-
cussed of late arbitration and boards of conciliation have re-
ceived the warmest commendation. A wide difference of
opinion, however, is found to exist between witnesses on this
point. Arbitration met with uniform condemnation from the

1891.] THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. 379

skilled workmen (who spoke from experience), conciliation with
approval. The unskilled laborers, without experience, had more
elaborate schemes.

The representative of the warehouse employees engaged in
the tea and wool trades proposed that a conciliation board should
be formed consisting of equal numbers of the masters and men
concerned in the dispute. Their decision should be binding on both
parties. In the event, however, of the board being unable to arrive
at a decision, this witness would have recourse to a state board of
arbitration. To it the workmen should be able to make a final ap-
peal. It should not, however be compulsory on either part to ac-
cept the decision of this board. The public sympathy with the
men in the event of the masters declining to accept this board's
decision, and its moral effect, would, this witness thought, be suffi-
cient to secure the rights of the men. This plan was approved of
also by the representative of the Docks, Riverside, and General
Laborers' Union, although he was of opinion that the voluntary
boards of conciliation and arbitration, as at present established
without a state board, had failed. Other witnesses were in favor
of the decision of the board of arbitration being made obliga-
tory on both parties, and were ready to make the state thereby
the authority to determine wages,

Quite a different opinion was held of the advantages of arbi-
tration by the skilled operatives. Boards of conciliation, as we
have seen, have in the cotton trade been the means of prevent-
ing disputes for many years ; but arbitration was looked upon
as unsatisfactory on various accounts. In arbitration the umpire
generally split the difference without regard to the merits of the
case. Moreover, to give to an outsider and an arbitrator must
be an outsider so much power is looked upon as dangerous and
unwise. The representative of the Durham Miners expressed de-
cided opposition to the appointment of a state board of arbi-
tration, or to state interference at all, being convinced that con-
ciliation between the parties themselves would do all that is
necessary. The same opinion of the arbitration boards was held
by the representative of the Cleveland miners.

The Legal Eight Hours' Day for all trades was considered by
the representative of the warehouse employees engaged in the
tea and wool trades as the best way for diminishing the number
of the unemployed. The representatives of the Dockers also gave
their warm adhesion to this plan. All over-time and night-work
should be abolished. The cotton operatives, on the other hand,
are agreed in opposing any legislative limitation of the working

380 THE LABOR PROBLEM IN GREAT BRITAIN. [Dec.,

day to eight hours. In their opinion it would ruin their chances
of competition. The representative of the Cleveland Miners'
Union was opposed to the legal eight hours' day because it
would have a tendency to make men leave the union.

As to strikes, the representative of the warehouse employees
engaged in the tea and wool industries looked upon them as an
impracticable method of settling disputes, it having been tried in
his own industry and, after having cost the men more than
$30,000, proved a failure. This opinion as to the futility of
strikes owing to the large number of unemployed who are ready
to take the places of the strikers was expressed by many of the
witnesses, and seems to be gaining ground. It is to legislation
that the eyes of the working-classes are being turned. But here,
again, evidence was offered which goes to show that this, too,
may prove inadequate. Even in the event of the enactment of
wise and just laws laws, that is, fair to the employer as well as
to the employed, and not detrimental to commerce will they
be enforced? The greater the amount of legislation the more
difficult enforcement becomes. Several witnesses testified that
much recent legislation was disregarded. For example, an offi-
cial of the Southside Labor Protection League said that the
act prohibiting the payment of wages in public-houses was prac-
tically a dead-letter. Another witness said that the Employers'
Liabilities Act was practically a farce, but this was owing to a
defect in the act itself.

We cannot conclude without referring to the testimony of
one of the working-men to the effect that, although their lot is
at present far harder than it should be, yet things are not going
from bad to worse, but in the opposite direction that, in fact,
the position of the laboring classes has improved and is improv-
ing. " The workers nowadays get a larger share of the profits
earned by the operations of labor and capital than they did
twenty and twenty-five years ago, and, having regard to all the
circumstances of the trade, they are getting a fair share. In my
experience the condition of the people has improved immensely."
These are the words of a skilled operative, and do not apply, in
their fulness, to the present condition of the unskilled laborer.
Let us hope that the outcome of the movement of which the
Royal Commission itself is a striking feature may render it pos-
sible for some future unskilled laborer to give similar evidence.

GILBERT SIMMONS.

1891.] CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS. 381

THE CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLATE OF THE

PRESS.

ON the Feast of the Epiphany, the sixth day of the coming
January, and the day following, a Convention of the Apostolate of
the Press will be held in New York. It will be composed of all
men and women of approved Catholicity who desire to co-operate
in the spread of the Printed Truth ; it will be made up of those
of the laity who are or who wish to become friends and adherents
of the Apostolate of the Press. The project has received the
hearty sanction of the Archbishop of New York, and is to be
carried out with the assistance of the Paulist Fathers. The place
of meeting will be Columbus Hall, adjoining the Paulist Church
on West Sixtieth Street, near Columbus Avenue. Invitations to
the Convention will soon be placed in the hands of the parish
priests of the United States and Canada, to be given to such
men and women of their congregations as will be likely to
attend the Convention, and practically co-operate in the work of
the Apostolate of the Press.

Although held under the auspices of the clergy, the Conven-
tion is to be composed of the laity. They are competent and
they are trustworthy ; they are in immediate contact with our
non-Catholic fellow-citizens, united to J:hem by ties of patriotism,
and by business and social relations, as well as by those of inti-
mate friendship : all golden opportunities for imparting to them
their share of the divine heritage of the true religion of Jesus
Christ.

The following letter of the Archbishop of New York not
only gives the approval of ecclesiastical authority to our pur-
poses, but very clearly summarizes them :

ARCHBISHOP'S HOUSE, 452 MADISON AVE.,
NEW YORK, October 26, 1891.

REV. DEAR FATHER ELLIOTT : I am glad that you see your
way to resume the work inaugurated by the revered Father
Hecker, and recommended by the Second Plenary Council of
Baltimore : I mean the diffusion of Catholic Truth by the publi-
cation of short articles, leaflets, and similar productions, intended
to dispel prejudice and to defend sound doctrine. You are no
doubt aware that the Rev. Joseph H. McMahon, of this Cathe-
dral, has been engaged in similar work during the past three

382 CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS. [Dec.,

years, and has already distributed many thousand copies of short
papers explaining salient points of Catholic discipline and dog-
ma. Kindred societies, actuated by the same praiseworthy spirit,
are successfully established elsewhere. In a country like ours,
where the Apostolate of the Press has an immense and almost
an unlimited mission, there is ample room for many workers in
the same field, and I therefore applaud and bless your zeal in
calling a convention to further this good work and to devise
ways and means by which it may be strengthened and made
permanent. After all, intelligent minds want to know the truth ;
St. Thomas says : " In no way is the truth disclosed better than
by refuting those who contradict it." And Tertullian wrote,
long before the Angelic Doctor, " Truth blushes only at conceal-
ment."

Wishing you all success in your noble project, and begging
God to bless it most abundantly, I remain,
Very faithfully yours,

M. A. CORRIGAN, Abp.

The Press is the layman's Apostolate. It is an altar upon
which every man and woman may stand in a holy priesthood and
distribute the bread of life to hungry souls. It is a pulpit from
which every Catholic can preach, and whose evangel can be
heard by countless thousands. The laity are to be assembled,
therefore, to take counsel together, to listen to words of wisdom
from each other, to learn ways and means of practical success
from each other's experience, and to be mutually enkindled with
that fire of missionary zeal which our blessed Redeemer cast
upon the earth to consume his followers with the spirit of love
and self-sacrifice till the end of time.

The Press is the readiest and most universal means of spread-
ing the truth. We have questioned many converts as to how
they were led to the church, and have found scarcely any who
had not read themselves into conviction of the truth. One was
started on the road by an item in the daily newspaper telling of
an heroic Catholic charity ; another read an indignant denial of
a calumny ; a third picked up a Catholic journal in a friend's
house and was taught the truth by an article in it. Who can
calculate the power of a good book ? It is not well enough
known that over two hundred thousand copies of Cardinal Gib-
bons' Faith of Our Fathers have been sold, making multitudes
of converts ; that the sale of Father Lambert's Notes on Ingersoll
has approximated to the same number, saving the faith of thou-
sands in God and immortality. The statistics of the sale of devo^
tional and controversial books of every sort, and especially of
the number and circulation of Catholic journals, show a marvel-

1-891.] CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS. 383

lous increase of activity in recent years in the religious use of
the Press.

What Catholic has not blessed God for the art of printing ?
Its best victory has been the rescuing the sacred Scriptures from
religious anarchy. The Biblical controversies induced by Luther's
apostasy may seem dreary enough to us who must fight for the
Book's very existence as a valid witness of truth, and even for
the validity of the religious sense. But for three hundred years
the rightful place of the Written Word in God's dealings with
men was the supreme question ; and the Printed Word was
necessary to detect misleading citations and refute false interpre-
tations. The Press enabled the church to maintain in every
tongue the true and common ownership of the divine book
against its private exploitation by deluded, visionary, and fana-
tical individuals. The appeal to the Bible has ended in Catholic
victory, and that victory is greatly due to the fact that the
Printing-Press gave us a fair and a broad field of battle.

In every phase of religious life, doctrinal and devotional, con-
:roversial and ascetical, for the learned and the simple, for the
innocent and the penitent, the Press has exercised among civil-
ized nations an influence so beneficent and so wide-reaching as
to deserve the name of the Catholic Apostolate by excellence.

In our own country God has raised up men in the clergy and
laity who in printed words have shown the power of the Holy
Spirit. In more recent times, the women who have in various
capacities served the interests of Catholic morality and religion in
the press have been numerous, and distinguished for intelligence
and for courage. The movement for the Apostolate of the
Press made under the inspiration of the late Father Hecker
twenty-five years ago, resulted in the printing and distribution of
many hundreds of thousands of leaflets, pamphlets, and books,
assisting large numbers into the church, disarming prejudice, cor-
recting errors, and greatly helping towards the present favorable
outlook for the conversion of our fellow-countrymen. Although
Father Hecker's long illness deprived the work of much of its
public character, yet in the hands of zealous Catholics acting in
their private capacity and from motives of personal zeal, or as
members of charitable or devotional organizations, the Apostolate
has never ceased its activity. It would be a mistake to suppose
that because no great central organization has existed the Press
is not largely used for the diffusion of Catholic truth. There is
not a community in the country in which Catholics, priests as
well as men and women of the laity, are not continually feeding

VOL. LIV. 25

384 CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLA TE OF THE PRESS. [Dec.,

the fires of the Holy Spirit in the souls of honest non-Catholics
by the Printed Truth.

An example of what may be done and often is done by the zeal
of individual priests and laymen, inspired by personal zeal, is
given by the Archbishop of New York in his letter already
quoted. And in recent years such private zeal as that of Father
McMahon has assumed organized form. Emulating the activity
of our English brethren, the Catholic Truth Society of St. Paul,
Minnesota, has enrolled over six hundred men and women into an
active missionary body for the distribution of the Printed Truth.
The Holy Ghost Society of New Orleans has done a work of
the same sort with wonderful success. The Visitation and Aid
Society of Chicago has made the distribution of Catholic books
and pamphlets in penal and reformatory institutions an integral
part of its general beneficence. These societies, praiseworthy
as they are, woridng with much success and enjoying the entire
sanction of the clergy, are but the promise of an Apostolate of
the Press which shall become the most conspicuous feature of
the new missionary era now happily dawning upon us. And it
is to further all these public and private efforts, to voice the
zeal of all these societies, and of all the men and women privately
at work, to enable them to come together and know each other,
to lend and borrow the fruits of experience, as well as to exhib-
it to the entire country the aggressive force of Catholic truth,
that it has been decided to hold the Convention of the Aposto-
late of the Press.

Yet the Convention is not to be one of societies as such, but
of the Great Apostolate itself. There is less need of our zeal
being organized than of its being awakened, stimulated, and rightly
guided to personal activity. Society conventions have their uses.
Any gathering of earnest men and women exhibits their cause,
defines publicly their attitude on some grave question, voices
their purpose. But for the Apostolate of the Press the supreme
need is personal zeal ; that creates organization, which for any
apostolate is the means to the end. Besides, we have various
societies already engaged in dissemination of the truth through
the Press, either as the principal or a subsidiary aim of their ex-
istence, and these can work together only by independent co-
operation, conference, mutual encouragement, meanwhile respect-
ing each other's autonomy. Such will be the uses of the Con-
vention of the Apostolate of the Press. The best men and
women of all societies will confer together, and their addresses
and discussions will form, when printed, a hand-book for practi-

1891.] CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLATE OF- THE PRESS. 385

cal utility in the layman's co-operation with the clergy in the ele-
vation and purification of humanity.

But besides members of societies there are many zealous souls
who work best on their own initiative. They do not work
alone, but they love absolute freedom of choice as to methods
and association. It is hoped that such independent spirits will be
drawn to the Convention and to the work which it is intended
to promote. There are many who have zeal to labor for the
good of souls, but their union with others must be voluntary.
To such persons every harness is a fetter, except the sweet yoke
of Jesus Christ and His Church. The Convention will aid
them to use their liberty to the best advantage, and will en-
courage others to imitate their example and emulate their suc-
cess. How many intelligent Catholics are there not in the
United States and Canada who are well fitted, both by good-will
and education, for the Apostolate of the Press ? They are in
every Catholic parish of any size ; they are among those who are
engaged in education, journalism or the other professions, or they
are members of Catholic charitable and religious societies, not to
mention those already devoted to this Apostolate in the Catholic
Press.

The intention is to stimulate the entire Catholic public to take
part in the Apostolate of the Press. The very names of those
in attendance at the Convention will, when published, show the
large number of men and women of character who take an active
interest in the spread of religious truth. Here they will have an
assemblage of kindred spirits, whose meetings will not be con-
sumed by discussing reports of committees on credentials, audit-
ing committees, committees on resolutions, debates on points of
order or of precedence, questions of privilege, not to mention
the parliamentary warfare of the embattled hosts of rival socie-
ties, marshalled by favorite sons. All this distraction of mind
from the main question in hand, and all this awful waste of time,
will be avoided by the Convention of the Apostolate of the Press,
for it will be open to all approved Catholics desirous of aiding
the distribution of the Printed Truth, and its only business will
be to get information how to succeed in that purpose. No or-
ganization was effected or dreamt of at the Catholic Congress
of Baltimore, yet it marked an epoch in American Catholicity.
Organization, therefore, in the sense of forming a society, is not
intended.

It is not necessary to say that societies already in existence
shall not be interfered with. On the contrary, they will be en-

386 CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLA TE OF THE PRESS. [Dec.,

couraged ; and although the Convention will hardly be the oc-
casion for recruiting their membership, it will publish their suc-
cess to the entire country, make known their plans, and enable
them to enroll new members after the adjournment. Nor is it in-
tended that the members of the Convention shall be asked for
contributions of money ; that is a practical matter which may
be left to their own judgment when they return home. The ex-
penses of the Convention will be paid by one generous patron of
our Apostolate. In their own neighborhoods, or in their own
societies, those who attend the Convention will concert measures
for the carrying out of the suggestions heard and discussed at
the meetings. The Convention will give a focus to the ideas and
principles, the plans and methods, of the Apostolate of the Press.
Home-rule must be relied on to choose the persons and collect
the funds necessary for obtaining and actually distributing the
Printed Truth. We trust to have members present from all
Catholic societies which in any way use the Press for the good of
religion ; but the Convention is open to all good Catholics of
the laity who take a practical interest in this Apostolate, whether
by active personal labor in preparing and distributing the Print-
ed Truth, or, lacking facility for this, by prayer and counsel. It
is hoped that the result will be that where there is now but
one there will soon be many Apostles of the Press among the
Catholic laity.

The object is the organized and personal distribution of
Catholic literature both doctrinal and devotional, the use of the
press for refutation of error and the repression of vice, for the
spread of the truth and the propagation of virtue. For these
ends we will bring the best men and women of the laity to-
gether, to take counsel how to use the Press for the good of
religion, especially with a view to the conversion of the non-
Catholic American people. We are right on the great questions
of the soul and we can prove it, and the most universal medium
of doing so is the Press. Why it should be done, and how to
do it, when and where it can best be done, by what agencies and
by overcoming what obstacles, such questions as these will be
discussed freely and answered fully by those most competent to
do so.

Arrangements are being made to have papers read by repre-
sentative Catholics from all parts of America, particularly by
those who have already distinguished themselves by their zeal in
the Apostolate of the Press. These are more numerous and of
higher consideration than one would at first glance suppose.

1891.] CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLA TE OF THE PRESS. 387

The topics will embrace the entire home field of Christian mis-
sionary zeal, such as, how to refute errors against truth and
morality as they appear in the secular press ; the uses of fiction
in our Apostolate ; how to interest children by the printed
truth ; how to reach agnostics, infidels, and old-fashioned Protes-
tants respectively ; the use of the Press against intemperance ;
Reading Circles, how to form them and how to maintain them ;
the Apostolate in prisons, reformatories, and hospitals ; how to
spread the truth through the mails ; how to assist soldiers and
sailors to obtain good reading ; the aid of the Press in
the conversion of the colored people ; what share charitable
societies may have in this Apostolate. Each of these exceed-
ingly interesting subjects will be treated of in carefully pre-
pared papers, and in a free and informal discussion which
will follow each of them. We hope in addition to hear from
those who have had practical experience in this Apostolate.
From them we shall learn the lessons and warnings of their zeal
and prudence. All these papers and discussions, it is hoped, will
be collected and published at cost price after the convention,
furnishing a hand-book for the guidance of zealous members of
the laity in the exercise of both personal and organized zeal for
the distribution of the Printed Truth.

What a joy to make a convert ! The Convention will tell fully
a score of ways how to make a convert by the Printed Truth.
The story of the victory will be told by the men and women
who wear the laurels. Nor will they be priests, monks, or bish-
ops ; all these give their sanction, but the laity will make up the
Convention, trusted and trustworthy members of the great body
of the faithful, whose zeal and intelligence have overcome the
prejudices, broken down the antagonisms of non-Catholics and
led them into the true fold.

It is not only about such doctrines as the Real Presence, the
Communion of Saints, the Divine Unity of Christendom that
our separated brethren are astray ; their ignorance of the sim-
plest and most fundamental principles of Christianity is simply
appalling. Just what is meant by the Trinity, the Incarnation,
the Grace of Christ, the guidance of the Holy Spirit, never was
fully agreed upon among Protestants, and the utter vagueness of
mind of our separated brethren on these most essential as well as
most consoling doctrines can hardly be exaggerated. Christianity
outside the Church has an indistinct notion that Christ is the
Teacher and Leader of mankind and that the Bible is the best
of books ; as for the rest, there is utter confusion of schools of

388 CONVENTION OF THE APOSTOLA TE OF THE PRESS. [Dec.,

thought, drifts and tendencies of opinion, each man teaching
whatever he likes and each of his fellows accepting as much as
he pleases. The spirit of doubt, allying itself to " the higher
criticism " a pompous name for learned scepticism is gradu-
ally undermining what is left of reverence for the Bible. Now
let us ask ourselves what stands between us and our honest
neighbors, thus tossed about in the wreckage of Protestantism ?
Two things, prejudice on their part and apathy on our part.
The tremendous force of the former is due to the awful vis
inerticB of the latter. The prejudice of non-Catholics in America,
no longer fed by race antagonism or political passion, rests
almost wholly on ignorance, and if we had been true to our
opportunities and faithful to our mission, it would have been
entirely dissipated long ago.

The following words addressed to the writer by an earnest
non-Catholic seeking for the truth are in evidence : " You may
not realize the difficulty which Protestants have in getting at
the truth. They have really no idea what the Church is, what
the Mass is and what it means, what the Christian life really is
in distinction from being vaguely good. Judging by my ex-
perience," he adds, " they don't know where to learn. When
away in the country I have expounded Catholic truths of the
strongest kind to New England Puritan Congregationalists, and
I found them delighted, longing for just such things, and so I
believe tens of thousands are longing for just such knowledge.
Why should not the Paulist Fathers meet that want by a series
of tracts on the common Catholic truths. People by the thou-
sand want what Rome has to give, but they don't know that
they want it." Not only the Paulists but many other commu-
nities are quite ready to furnish the tracts, leaflets, pamphlets,
books, at the mere cost of printing them, but the laity must be
ready to distribute them. Are they ready ? We are convinced that
they are, and the Convention of the Apostolate of the Press will
furnish information not only for preparing the matter but also
for guidance in distributing it.

By attending the Convention prominent laymen will lend
their names publicly to the cause of Catholic truth ; men of
zeal will learn to use the most powerful means of saving the
souls of their non-Catholic neighbors ; they will become acquaint-
ed personally with the best men and women of the Catholic
Church in America ; and their attendance will be as enjoyable
as it will be profitable and instructive. The convention
will show the laity to be a powerful element of Catholic

1 89 1 .] CHURCH A ND STA TE. 3 89

public life, full of aggressive zeal and the highest intelligence.
If numerously attended by Catholics well and favorably
known in their communities or their professions, it will fitly
begin the celebration of the centenary of the discovery of this
New World, an event due to the science, the spirit of adventure,
and above all to the Apostolic zeal of the Great Catholic

Discoverer.

WALTER ELLIOTT.

CHURCH AND STATE.

FEW questions keep coming up age after age with greater
insistency than the question of the relations that ought to exist
between Church and State. This was a vexed question under
the old Roman Empire, it is still a vexed question under the
new German Empire, and it has occupied a prominent place in
the long centuries that lie between them. There has been the
widest possible divergence of opinion on the subject from the
mediaeval idea of closest union to the modern idea of complete
separation. The friends of religion have not unfrequently claim-
ed too much, the enemies of religion have invariably allowed
too little on the religious side of the question. Some of the
fiercest attacks that have been made on the church were founded
on her supposed arrogant assumption of authority over the civil
power, and the acts of a few mediaeval pontiffs in their inter-
ference with the state have become the nightmares of history.

Now, without attempting to explain or justify the attitude of
individual churchmen in any age or country towards the
secular power, let us try to ascertain what the church herself
really claims in her relation to the state. Not the particular
conditions that obtained in past ages, or the mere accidental
results of civil or ecclesiastical policy, but the general principles
involved, are of real and lasting importance.

It must be confessed that the history of the church in her
progress down the ages is largely the history of her conflict
with the state ; and the long and dreary record of the church's
persecutions, trials, and temptations bears testimony to the inten-
sity as well as to the continuity of the struggle. The conflict
has undoubtedly been a most relentless one ; no sacrifice has
been great enough to appease it it has cost the lives of mil-
lions of martyrs. No faith has been strong enough to stay it ;
it was the bane of the ages of faith themselves. No progress

39 CHURCH AND STA TE. [Dec.,

or enlightenment has been able to outgrow it ; in nearly every
country in Europe the church and the state are more or less in
conflict to-day; and even in our own free and favored land the
cry is often raised that the interests of the church are inimical
to those of the state, and that Catholics, simply because they
are Catholics, are not, and cannot be, perfectly loyal citizens.
And why this ceaseless conflict ? Cannot the things of Caesar
and the things of God be distinguished, separated, and rendered
each to each? Our Lord Jesus Christ certainly intimates that
they can. But then we must remember that the kingdom of
Christ, though in the world, is not of the world, and the domain
of Caesar, which is the world and of the world, can never har-
monize with it. Conflict, it would appear, is the normal condi-
tion of the church's existence in the world, and it shall doubt-
less continue on in some form or other to the end. The reign

of peace is not here to seek ; life itself is a warfare ; and the
rest that remaineth for the people of God is not temporal but
eternal. The question is, Which party to this great conflict has
been unreasonable in its demands and has striven to intrude
itself on the domain of the other ?

No one, assuredly, will be disposed to accuse the church of
undue aggression in the beginning of her career : she only asked
for the right to live in the world, and for three hundred years
that right was denied her. Every appeal for protection was
met by the shouts of the populace : " Death to the Christians ;
they are the enemies of the empire ! " And when at last the
church overcame her persecutors and they became her followers,
she did not ask for a sceptre ; whatever civil authority she exer-
cised was thrust upon her. She only laid claim to the love and
obedience that children owe to their spiritual mother. It is
true that from time to time she called upon Christian kings and
rulers to defend her rights whenever they were unjustly assailed.
And when all the nations of Christendom professed their filial
love and loyalty towards her and their willingness to protect
her, then arose that intimate union of church and state which
for so many centuries proved the great bulwark of Christian
civilization. The benefits of this union are eloquently summed
up by Pope Leo. XIII. in his encyclical " Immortale Dei," in
the following words : " That Christian Europe was able to tame
the barbarian peoples, and from a savage state bring them to
meekness, from superstition to the truth ; that she victoriously
drove back the invading hordes of Mahometans ; that she re-
tained the princedom of civil culture, and continued to show

1891.] CHURCH AND STATE. 391

herself to the rest of the world as the guide to all that con-
tributes to the ornament of humanity, and as the teacher of
others ; that she secured to peoples true freedom of every kind ;
that she established institutions to alleviate human misery she
must for this, without controversy, greatly thank Religion, under
whose auspices she undertook such great enterprises, and whose
help she had."

But the state rather than the church was the gainer by this
union, for while it brought nothing but benefit to the state, as
then constituted, it often brought the most deplorable evils
upon the church, as when those who pretended to protect her
abused their privilege and sought to debase her for their own
personal ends. Indeed, the greatest dangers the church has ever
encountered were political, and came from the abuse of this
intimate union between church and state. The greatest evil,
perhaps, that ever befell the church was the schism of the four-
teenth century, known in history as the great Western Schism,
and this was purely political in its origin.

The church, nevertheless, does claim due recognition in the
Christian state, and she holds that the best interests of Christian
society are secured by an entente cordiale between the civil
power and the ecclesiastical authority. And Pius IX., in his
famous Syllabus, condemns as false the proposition which asserts
that there should be absolutely no union between church and
state. But the most earnest and the most enlightened defen-
ders of the church and her rights in the world to-day disclaim
all idea of such political union as sometimes existed in the past,
and which has bequeathed a legacy of weakness to the church
the evil effects of which are felt in some countries even to this
day. The march of mankind, though halting and circuitous, is
ever onward, and we must not turn backwards. Not to restore
the past, but to try to improve the present and save the future,
should be the aim of all enlightened zeal. The political ideas
and methods of the mediaeval age would be as much out of
place in the nineteenth century as its dungeons and its cumber-
ous coats of mail, and the church would no more think of restor-
ing the political conditions of that bygone time than of resusci-
tating the dust of its dead kings and warriors from their long-
forgotten graves. The most intense churchman has no yearning to
see the past restored in this particular ; such a reactionary spirit
would be the height of folly. The church, like everything else
in the world, must accommodate herself to her changed surround-
ings, and she has always done so. Her power of adaptation to

392 CHURCH AND STA TE. [Dec.,

the circumstances of all times and places and races is not the
least evidence of her divine organization. While her doctrines
are unchangeable her discipline is ever changing. But the Catholic
Church has her rights in the nineteenth century as well as in the
twelfth, and she never hesitates to assert them, though the ages
of faith and chivalry have passed away.

From the very beginning the church claimed the right to
determine the " things of God " ; she made this claim when hid
away in the catacombs as well as when she stood uncovered in
the palace of the Caesars. Her very existence is founded upon
this right, for her mission in the world is to point out the divine
law and secure its observance, and without at least the negative
co-operation of the state she cannot fulfil her mission. The
legislation of the civil power must be in harmony with the di-
vine law, or at all events not opposed to it ; otherwise there
must necessarily be conflict between the church and the state.
The first efforts of the church when the power of paganism had
passed away was to secure legislation on Christian lines and in
full harmony with Christian principles, and, thanks to these
efforts, the common law of every civilized country in the world
to-day is based .on Christian principles and is, with few excep-
tions, in harmony with them. Even in our own young Republic,
where the separation of church and state is so complete, the
laws of the land recognize the ethics of Christianity as the su-
preme standard of right and justice. The divorce laws and the
laws relating to education are the only ones where there is
direct conflict between the legislation of the church and the
legislation of the civil power in this country. In many respects,
indeed, our civil tribunals are very favorable in their interpreta-
tion of the church's rights. It generally happens that when an
ecclesiastical case comes up before a civil court in this country
it is decided on the principles of ecclesiastical law, the judges
taking the common-sense ground that when persons freely em-
brace the ecclesiastical state they willingly submit themselves to
its laws, and are therefore bound to abide by them. And this is
far more just and reasonable than the attitude of not a few so-
.called Catholic governments in similar cases. If we take for
example some of the South American republics, the old-time
union of church and state is supposed to exist in them, but
the church is hampered at every step by the civil power and
very often she cannot enforce the most elementary discipline.
The bishop of a diocese may be compelled to suspend a priest
for just cause, or Rome itself may depose him, but the civil au-

1891.] CHURCH AND STATE. 393

thorities interpose in the matter and sustain him, and, though a
past-master-mason or a sacrilegious usurper, he retains his parish,
to the great scandal and injury of religion.

The church never has questioned and never can question the
absolute authority of the state in its own proper sphere, and she
deprecates all idea of interference in the functions of the state.
The words of Pope Leo XIII., in his encyclical on the "Chris-
tian Character of States," ought to be sufficient evidence of the
church's teaching on this subject. "God," he says, "has divid-
ed the care of the human race between two powers, the eccle-
siastical and the civil ; the one placed over divine things, the
other over human. Each is without superior in its own sphere ;
each has fixed bounds in which it is contained, and these de-
fined by the nature and proximate cause of each one, so that a
kind of circle is drawn within which the acts proper to each,
each does of its own right." But while the church thus main-
tains the absolute authority of the state within its own sphere,
she holds, with St. Paul, that " there is no power except from
God," and hence " in every kind of government those who rule
should keep their eyes fixed on God, the Sovereign Ruler of the
world, and have him before them in executing their civil duties
as their example and law." Rulers and law-makers as well as
private individuals must recognize the principles of divine right
and justice, and be guided by them in their official conduct and
in the enactment of laws. This much the church insists upon.
As the exponent of the higher law of God to Christian legis-
lators, she demands that the laws of Caesar shall not interfere
with "the things of God," but shall render due homage to them;
and, on the other hand, she commands full obedience to the
laws of the state, and a strict rendering to Caesar " the things
that are Caesar's."

This is the absolute claim of the church in her relation to
the state and its laws, and a careful examination of her past
history will show that this has been her real attitude all along.
No doubt there have been ambitious churchmen who in their re-
lations with the civil power contended for much more than this,
as there have been ambitious statesmen who wanted to rule over
spiritual as well as temporal affairs ; but individuals, however
high their .office, are not the church, and their aims must not be
confounded with those of the church, which are essentially spiri-
tual ; and just as grasping, unscrupulous statesmen have brought
and still bring odium upon their government or their party by
their abuse of power, so misguided churchmen have brought

394 CHURCH AND STA TE. [Dec.,

odium upon the church by trying to make her the instrument
of their own personal schemes and ignoble ambitions.

And the perfect freedom of action which the church con-
cedes to the state in its own sphere she also demands for her-
self in the exercise of her ministry. The words of Pope Leo on
this point, in the encyclical already quoted, are clear and unmis-
takable. " Not the state," he proclaims, " but the church must
be the one to lead men in things heavenly, and her office is
assigned her by God to see and to legislate for the things that
regard religion ; to teach all nations ; to spread as far as possible
the Christian faith ; in a word, to have the administration of all
that pertains to Christianity freely and without trammel accord-
ing to her judgment. This authority, in itself absolute and fully
of its own right, which the philosophy that flatters princes has
long opposed, the church has never ceased to assert for herself
and to publicly exercise, the Apostles first of all contending for
it, who when forbidden by the princes of the synagogue to
spread the Gospel constantly replied, ' We ought to obey God
rather than man.' . . . Whatever, therefore, in things human
there be in any way sacred, whatever concerns the saving of
souls and the worship of God, whatever is such by its nature or
may be looked on as such by reason of the end to which it is
referred, all this is under the power and subject to the judg-
ment of the church. The rest, which is of a civil and political
nature, it is right should be under the civil authority ; for Jesus
Christ has ordered that what is Caesar's be given to Caesar, what
is God's to God."

But if this be the actual state of the case, if the church ad-
mits that she has no right or title to interfere in the remotest
manner with the affairs of the state except where the things of
God are clearly concerned, why the constant friction between
church and state all adown the ages ? Simply because the state
has all along tried to ignore the rights of God where they actu-
ally exist, and the church has tried to enforce them. Let us
take a few examples. Is not marriage a sacrament, a divine in-
stitution, in the eyes of the church, and do not the laws relating
to civil marriage and divorce concern the things of God ? Does
not the observance of Sunday concern them ? Does not Chris-
tian education concern them ? Does not the maintenance of
public decency and morality concern them ? If the church have
no right to a hearing on such matters as these, her mission is
a mere mockery, and her power and her authority in the world
at large is null and void. She is only a dumb dog that cannot bark.

Those and those only who hold to the purely pagan idea of

1891.] CHURCH AND STATE. 395

a state supreme in all things and over all things can deny the
rights of religion here. No one with a particle of Christian faith
or feeling can question them. If Christianity is true, the claims
of the church in this particular are also true. Every Catholic,
I had almost said every Christian, must needs unite with Leo
XIII. in saying that " to exclude the church from influence on
life, from law, from the education of youth, from the family, is
a great and pernicious error. A state cannot be moral if you
take away religion." The experiment of a purely secular state
has never yet succeeded, and certainly the results of recent at-
tempts in this direction do not give any sufficient evidence to
show that it ever will succeed. There can be no stability in
human affairs without some recognition of the divine order of
things. When the civil and religious elements are in full accord
and move harmoniously together the best interests of society are
secured.

There may be abuses, there have been abuses on both sides ;
but is there anything in this world that is not subject to abuse,
and has there ever been any arrangement of human society that
worked perfectly ? Conservative governments are liable to curtail
the just rights of the people, liberal governments are liable to
fail in the enforcement of law ; so there is some danger in every
form of government. A very common, but none the less -a very
erroneous, idea is that the Catholic Church is in favor of ex-
treme conservatism, or even absolutism, in government, and is the
uncompromising foe of all liberal constitutions. The truth is the
church is not wedded to any particular form of government ; all
forms that fulfil the functions of government and promote the
public welfare and the common good are alike to her, and she
loyally supports all just constitutions, whether monarchical or re-
publican. Here again we can quote the words and the authority
of the learned and enlightened Leo XIII. " The right to com-
mand in itself," he says, " is not necessarily coupled with any
form of government ; it can rightly have one or other, provided
it really brings about the common utility and good. . . .
None of the various forms of government is in itself to be con-
demned, since they have nothing in them opposed to Catholic
teaching, and can, if wisely and justly carried on, keep the state
in excellent condition. . . . The assertion, therefore, that
the church is envious of modern ideas in regard to government,
and promiscuously rejects whatever the genius of these days
has brought forth, is an empty and flat calumny " (Encyclical
letter, " Immortale Dei "). With these distinct utterances of the in-
fallible head of the church in plain print before the world, it is

396 CHURCH AND STA TE. [Dec.,

difficult to excuse the blind bigotry that keeps on insisting that
the Catholic Church is the foe of free institutions.

The rabid, unreasoning opponents of Catholicity sometimes
amuse us by prophesying what the church would do should she
ever gain the ascendency in this country. Their prophetic fears
are not only groundless, but to us they seem supremely absurd.
We know very well what the church would do under the circum-
stances. She would do away with divorce ; she would establish
a system of Christian education for her own children (she would
not impose it upon others) ; 'she would try to root out public as
well as private corruption ; she would endeavor to secure an
honest ballot and anathematize any party or individual that should
by bribery or other methods pollute the sources of our political
life ; but she would not touch a single stone in the noble fabric of
our constitution 1 nay, she would safeguard to the utmost of her
power our free institutions, and teach her children to be willing
at any moment to die in their defence.

It were a grievous injustice to the church to suppose that the
few Catholic politicians who from time to time become promi-
nent in public life represent Catholic principles in their political
action. Most of them represent nothing but themselves ; some
there are who carry their Catholic consciences into their official
conduct, and they are an honor to us and a blessing to the
state ; but unhappily the majority go with the tide and recognize
no principle but expediency, and the church must not be held
responsible for them. As for the low and venal crew of pot-house
politicians who batten on bribery and the perjured spoils of
office, they are a libel on humanity as well as on Christianity.
The true, consistent Christian, the man who brings his Christian
principles everywhere with him and acts upon them, is always
the best citizen, and the words of St. Augustine on this subject
are as true to-day as when they were first written, nearly four-
teen centuries ago. " Let those who say the teaching of Christ
is opposed to the republic," exclaims the great doctor, "give it
soldiers such as the teaching of Christ bids them to be ; let them
give such governors of provinces, such husbands, such wives,
such parents, such children, such masters, such servants, such
kings, such judges finally, such payers and exactors of the debts
due the revenue itself, the very agent of the government ; all
these such as Christian principles commend them to be, and let
them dare to say the church is hostile to the republic ; nay, let
them acknowledge that she is, if obeyed, the great source of
safety to the state." E. B. BRADY, C.S.P.

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 397

AN IRISH SCAPIN.

THE philosophy of the canny Scot's advice to a friend hesi-
tating between a girl with beauty and a girl with a cow, is for
the most part the philosophy of the farmers of the south and
west of Ireland : " Wed t'lass wi' coo, mon ; sin' there's no the
deefer of a coo's value twixt any twa weemen i' Chreestendom."

Yet even among these sordid farmers beauty gives in the
marriage market to a cow-endowed lass something of the addi-
tional value that polish gives the diamond. Wherefore Mary
Morony, daughter and heiress of Michael Morony of Morisk,
Miltown Malbay, was at premium as being dowered as richly by
nature with beauty as by fortune with cows. For Michael was
what in those parts was called " a warm " (i.e., rich) man a de-
scription which applied also to his temper, as Tim Dooley urged
in answer to the reproaches his father poured upon him because
of his dismissal from Mr. Morony's service. " Sich an illigant
place ! Where 'ill ye get the likes of it ? Where 'ill ye get
the likes of it, ye schraneen, ye ? The warmest man in the
barony! "

" It's warm enough he is, 'tis so ! An' he makes the place
warm enough, begor ! too hot to hould ye ! " cried Tim, who, as
we shall see, was sharp of wit and word a kind of Irish
Scapin.

" Lishten here to me now, Masther Tim Dooley," retorted his
exasperated parent. " No wan can say that I haven't done me
duty by ye. I've given ye the sthrap four times a week
an' betther whin ye were a spalpeen, an' have got ye as many
places since as there's holes in a sieve ; an' ye've dhropped
through thim all, like the shmall dirt ye are ; an' now ye may go
to the divil yere own way ! " So saying, Mr. Dooley senior
turned his broad back upon his son and strode into the house.

Tim betook himself, instead of to the devil, to a young scion
of a ruined race, Dick Mahon, whom he had followed with a dog's
devotion to sport and to the sportsman, and also in something
of a dog's capacity, in a hundred shooting, fishing, and coursing
expeditions. He found Dick busy making a fishing fly in a dis-
mal little den, which looked like a vault infected with the decay
of its corpses. Where the plaster had not dropped from the

398 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

ceiling, and the paper had not peeled off the walls, there were
bloated blotches of damp and mould and mildew, which gave
you shuddering suggestions of advanced decomposition. Here
was Dick at work, with his materials upon a small deal table
drawn close to the window to get all the light which filtered
through the grime of its panes. Dick himself, however, in whole-
some contrast to his environment, was as engaging a picture of
health, strength, manliness, and brightness as you would wish to
see.

" Halloa, Tim ! " he cried excitedly, as he sprang up upon
the entrance of Mr. Dooley. " Have you got an answer?"

" There worn't nothin' to answer, Masther Dick," replied Tim,
looking as dispirited as a drenched hen. " I niver seen sight or
sign of her, though I kep' mouchin' round the house, like a fox
round a hen-roost, till the ould masther seen me an' sacked me."

" Sacked you !" exclaimed Dick, as he took back the letter Tim
handed him out of his pocket.

" Sacked me, an' kicked me, an' 'ud have had me life if he'd
a hay-fork handy. He's a terrible man ! "

*" But what had you done ? "

" Och ! ye needn't do much to fire a blasht, Masther Dick.
Sorra another thing I was doin' beyant lookin' in the little pan-
thry windy, thinkin' Miss Mary might be inside, whin I felt a
kick behind, savin' yere presence, that 'ud rise the roof aff a
church. ' What are ye afther now, ye shneekin' thief of the
worruld ? ' he says. ' Oh, begorra ! yere honor,' I says, 'ye gev me
the divil's own fright,' I says. ' I thought you was him,' I says.
' Thought I was who ? ' he says. ' The thramp I seen mouchin'
round the house,' I says. ' I was lookin' to see if he'd got in,'
I says. ' No, he hasn't,' he says, ' for I've just caught him in
time,' he says ; an' with that he tuk me be the collar of the
coat an' dhragged me to the yard gate, an' shot me out like a
fork-load of hay, an' shouts as he shut the doore afther me,
* Aff wid ye, ye burglin' thief ; an' niver darken me land wid
yere black shadow no more ! '

" I'm very sorry," said Dick, looking ruefully at the undeliv-
ered letter, but (though he was fathoms deep in love) really con-
cerned also about Tim's loss of a good place.

" It can't be helped, Masther Dick," Tim said resignedly ;
only to add immediately, with a sudden brightening of tone and
face : " Or, begor ! it might be helped if ye'd put a bit of a
poshtshcrap to that letther, tellin' Miss Mary what happened. Sure
she can turn the ould masther round her little finger."

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 399

" But how are you to get it to her, Tim ? Her father ex-
pects her to read out to him every letter she gets by post, and
that old catamaran never takes her eye off her."

" Sweet bad luck to her ! " cried Tim viciously. " Do you
know what she's doin', Masther Dick? She's robbin' the ould
masther wid both hands; sorra a lie I'm tellin' ye. It's sellin'
his butther she is here an' there, an' up an' down' all over the
barony, an' puttin' the money into her own shtocking ! "

" What a shame ! and he so good to her."

" Begor, he's good to every wan, is the ould masther he is
so. He kep' us all out of the workhouse lasht November by
payin' ould Shpaight tin pound down ! He's a bit sperrity wid
his tongue an' wid his fisht ; but there isn't his like in the county
for kindness."

"But it's his tongue and his fist you're likely to taste, Tim,
if you go next or near the place again."

" It's Ennis fair to-morrow, Masther Dick, an he'll be there,
I'll be bound."

"Well, I'll write the letter now, Tim, and if Miss Mary can
do it, it's done."

" Oh, begor ! she can do it, Masther Dick, for he folleys her
eye as a flower folleys the sun."

" I suppose he'd do so much to please her," sighed Dick, re-
membering what he would not humor her in her choice of a
mate. " Was that fellow there to-day, Tim ? "

" 'Deed thin he was, the big bosthoon ! Whin I seen him
shwaggerin' up the avenue as if he owned iverything barrin' thim
knock-kneed legs of his, I cuts acrass to him an* I says, ' Have
ye met Miss Mary?' I says. 'I've not,' he says. 'It's by the
Ballyboreen road ye've come thin,' I says. ' An' how else would
I be afther comin' ? ? he says. ' Well,' says I, * Mrs. Carmody is
at home anyway.' ' Hang Mrs. Carmody ! ' he says, an' away
he walks wid thim legs of his thryin' to shlip from under
him."

Dick laughed at the ruse and at its success, and said then,
more to himself than to Tim, " I wonder what he sees in him?"

" The ould masther ? He sees three hunerd acres of the
besht land in the county in him ; there's where it is, Masther
Dick. If ye'd dhress a schare-crow in pound notes ye'd have all
the gurls in the counthry in love wid it barrin' Miss Mary,"
he hastened to add.

" He doesn't get much encouragement from her," said Dick,
glad to talk even with Tim of the adored one.
VOL. LIV. 26

400 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

" Oh, begor ! she's as fond of him as a horse of a horse-fly ;
but all the shakin' an' shtampin' in the worruld won't keep him
aff her."

" That old hag encourages him too."

" Sure he buys her butther, Masther Dick ; if ye could give
her an ordher now an' thin she'd come round fast enough the
ould naygur ! "

" What ! help her to rob her master ! "

" Sure she'd rob him anyway, Masther Dick ; an' if ye
couldn't help her doin' it, ye wouldn't be helpin' her to do it."
But, as Dick couldn't see the thing in this light, Tim gave up,
at least for the present, all idea of corrupting Mrs. Carmody.

After some talk about the prospects of the fishing season,
and about the fly in process of manufacture, Dick retired to re-
write his letter, leaving Tim to " make a sunshine in that shady
place " till his return. For by this our buoyant Tim had so far
recovered his spirits and spirit as to be able to whistle " The
College Hornpipe," with occasional accompaniments of the steps
of that mercurial dance.

II.

" Molly, Molly, Molly, this won't do ; this won't do at all !
What is the matter with you? Eh?" cried her father, as Mary
sat silent and listless with her hardly-tasted breakfast before her
next morning.

" Nothing, father," she answered, suddenly affecting to brighten
up and to resume her breakfast with an appetite.

" Nothing ! that's what you eat and drink ; but it's not what's
the matter with you, my girl. Mrs. Carmody

" That's it, father, if it's anything."

" What's it ?"

" Mrs. Carmody : that's what ails me. She just treats me like
a baby in arms, watching and worrying after me all day long."

" She's a bit anxious about you, dear, and has made me
anxious. Only last night she hinted to me that she suspected
something was wrong with you."

"What did she say, father?" Mary gasped, paling suddenly,
and as suddenly flushing scarlet.

" She only said that she didn't like the way you were getting
on, dear ; no doubt she's noticed you eat nothing."

" She's a downright " began Mary hotly, only to pull her-
self up suddenly to say, " I wish, father, you'd have Aunt Nanny
here instead of her."

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 401

"They never get on together, Molly; and your poor mother
made me promise never to let the old woman leave my house
until she was taken out feet foremost."

Here Mary rose and, getting behind her father, put her arm
round his neck and pressed her soft cheek against his. " Fa-
ther, you always loved mother dearly ?"

" I did so, dear ; I did so. And no woman ever deserved a
man's love better/'

" Always, father ? You always loved her before you married
her, I mean ?"

"Who's been making mischief?" cried her father with sudden
fury. "Has that old hag been telling you lying tales? If she
has, out she goes neck and crop before she's an hour older !"
(This the sacred charge who a moment since was to quit the
house only for the grave-yard ! But Michael's explosive temper
hung by a hair-trigger, and the suspicion that Mrs. Carmody
had been retailing to Mary some of his youthful escapades was
more than enough to fire it.)

" Father !" Mary cried reproachfully. " Do you think she
dare say anything against you to me ; or that I would listen to
it for a moment ?"

" You never know what those old women will say," he an-
swered, the swell of his sudden wrath still working yeastily after
the storm.

-" I was only wondering, father, whether mother married yoli
for love."

" And why shouldn't she ?" cried the old boy, rather testily.
" Do you think I was as broad and bald and wrinkled as that
old bellows there when I went courting her? I was as fine a
young fellow as ever winked at a girl ; as straight as a rush and
as strong as a bull, and with a head of hair as thick as thatch!'

" That's gone anyway," she said, kissing the top of his head,
which, in truth, was bald and shiny as a billiard ball. " But
you're strong enough, and straight enough, and handsome enough
still, in a way, you know, to make me believe half what you
say."

" Faith an' you may believe it all. I was just as right and
tight a lad as there was in the parish in them days."

"And mother fell in love with you?"

'She did so; and she wasn't the only one either. But she
was the only one I courted," he added hastily, having still some
misgivings about Mrs. Carmody's discretion.

" She wouldn't have married you unless she loved you, father?"

402 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

" To be sure she wouldn't ; and I wasn't the only one that
was after her, I can tell you," he said, getting quite excited
over this fascinating subject of his old self his young self, ra-
ther. Before, however, he could enumerate all his vanquished
rivals, Mary went on with her diplomatic catechism.

"And you wouldn't have married her unless you loved her
either, father ?" Here again Michael, who loved boasting about
what he was and did, and would and could be and do, seized
this other opening for complimenting himself.

"And why should I? What call had I to sell myself? There
wasn't another man in the barony with better prospects, or who
could have better made his own way, if he had no prospects at
all. No one could better afford to please himself, as I did."

" Father, dear," cooed Mary, as she rubbed her cheek softly
back and forward against his " Father, dear, if you wouldn't
have married mother unless you loved her, and if she wouldn't
have married you unless she loved you, why should you want
me to marry a man I cant bear ?" putting quite a fierce empha-
sis on the last two words. If she had had any knowledge of
human nature she would have foreseen that her father would
resent being trapped in this way. The mere annoyance of the
discovery that she had led him on for another purpose than the
pleasure of hearing how extraordinarily fine a young fellow he
had been was enough of itself to ruffle his irascible temper.
But, besides, he had set his heart upon making her by a mar-
riage with Terence Magrath the richest woman in the neighborhood.

" I hate these low, sly tricks ; and I don't know where you
learned them. I believe it's that " (here he used tremendous lan-
guage of denunciation against Mrs. Carmody). " You may just
tell the old hag that if I ever catch her putting you up to such
tricks again, off she goes to the workhouse ; do you hear me
now ? to the workhouse !"

" I don't know what you mean by low, sly tricks ; I've never
learned any from Mrs. Carmody or any one else," Mary began.
But her father, who dreaded above all things a quarrel with her,
had hurried out of the room to wreak the rest of his rage
upon Mrs. Carmody. As, however, he made some small matter
of household neglect the text of his onslaught upon the old
lady, it was plain he was using her simply as a whipping-boy.
Now, his fury was so outrageously disproportionate to its alleged
cause that Mrs. Carmody was convinced that Mary had been
making mischief against her, for which she would have her full
revenge.

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 403

Meanwhile, poor Mary, feeling utterly wretched, had walked
up in a very stately way to her own room ; which, however, she
had no sooner entered than she flung away the mask of stateli-
ness and allowed herself to be limply and abjectly miserable.
She flung herself upon her bed, buried her face in the pillow,
and broke down into a tempest of tears. Out of this prostration
she was startled presently by a low and hesitating knock at the
door. " Yes ?" she cried, sitting up in the bed.

" It's I, dear ; may I come in ? " answered her father in a
meek voice. She sprang out of bed, dried her eyes hurriedly,
and hastened to unlock her door. Though the sight of her red
and swollen eyes completed her father's ready remorse, he never
referred to their recent passage-of-arms ; since to no one, not
even to his adored daughter, could he own himself in the wrong.
However, no explicit apology could be more ample and abject
than his meek, remorseful manner.

" I am just off to Ennis, dear. Could I get you anything ? "

" No, father," she answered rather woefully certainly, but she
did what she could to assure him of her full forgiveness by put-
ting both arms round his neck and kissing him.

" I wish you'd let me bring you something, Molly. Do now,"
he entreated quite pathetically.

" Well, get the hat then," she said with a smile ; since she
had been vainly trying to persuade him for weeks to buy him-
self a new silk Sunday chimney-pot.

" I will then," he replied quite eagerly ; " but I'd like to
bring you something too, Molly."

She shook her head. " It's your own fault : you've left me
nothing to wish for except the hat."

"Well, I'll get it; and Molly," he. added after a shamefaced
pause, " I'd like to bring the old woman something. What does
she want now ?"

" You'd better ask herself ; she'd grumble over anything I
suggested."

"I'll get her a shawl?" he said interrogatively; for he cer-
tainly wasn't going to eat humble pie before Mrs. Carmody
also.

4< Yes, that will do very well."

III.

Mary, when her father quitted her, relapsed into a fit of still
deeper dejection. He was so good to her, and she was deceiving
him ! And Dick, for whose sweet sake she was deceiving him,

404 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

had made no sign for days ! What had happened ? Surely he
might have managed to smuggle a letter to her, since it was not
possible, with that old Mrs. Carmody always on the watch, to
manage a tete-a-tete f Oh, something must have happened to
him ! Or or had he changed ? Oh, no, no ! a thousand times
no ! He was true as truth. Certainly something had happened.
And yet it was not four days since this despairing young woman
had had from him a letter alight and aglow with hope and love !

But we live

" in thoughts, not breaths ;

In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs."

And so counted, what an eternity to a lover are four days of
frozen silence ! Besides, poor Mary was in low spirits about this
clandestine engagement, and as we look at everything through
the clear or smoked glass of our spirits, she could read only
disaster and despair in these four days' silence.

She was not, however, allowed a long indulgence of her soli-
tary fears and fancies, since Mrs. Carmody, under the officious
pretence of asking for instructions, came presently to disturb her.
This old crone was a serviceable head over the Morisk servants,
since she no more minded the master's temper-tempests than a
duck minds a ducking ; and since, also, she allowed no one to
steal but herself. Having no object to spend money on, and no
relative to leave it to, she was naturally a miser ; and her hoard
was formed at first of unconsidered trifles picked up about the
farm .and sold in Ennis ; but latterly, as avarice grew upon her
and impunity encouraged her, she had gone on from pilfering to
robbing. Yet during Mrs. Morony's life she was absolute honest-
ty itself! But the auri sacra fames, like the thirst of the drun-
kard, rots the character. It was through it that Dick's rival,
Terence Magrath, secured her services as a spy upon Mary. He
tipped her liberally and regularly for reports of Mary's move-
ments, of every person she saw and of every letter she wrote.

Hence Mrs. Carmody's intrusion upon Mary this morning,
caused by a suspicion that she was writing a love-letter. " What
is it ?" Mary asked irritably at sound of her knock.

" I want ye to come down and see the butther weighed, miss.
I'm not goin' to have no wan say that I tuck as much as 'ud
smooth me hair on a Sunday."

To one less guileless than Mary this protestation would have
sounded suspicious, on the principle of the shrewd Spanish pro-
verb : Herradura que chacolotea clavo le falta " A clattering hoof

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 405

means a nail gone." But she answered only and impatiently,
" Oh, nonsense ! Who ever said you took butter ?"

" Them that says it 'ill have to prove it, miss ; they will so.
I've been twenty-seven year, come next Lady-day, in this house,
an' barrin' the bit an' sup I ate, an' "

" You'd better say all this to some one who has accused you
of stealing butter, or anything else. I haven't," Mary said rather
sharply, for Mrs. Carmody's offensive-defensive manner was exas-
perating.

"Well, there's the dinner, miss ; maybe ye'll be afther givin'
ordhers for it ?" the woman said sulkily. Thus on one pretence
or another she contrived to keep Mary under surveillance all the
morning. About noon Tim turned up, bold as brass.

" Top o' the mornin' to ye," he cried cheerily, as he walked
into the kitchen as though he was calling for the rent. "Ah,
thin, Mrs. Carmody, is that yerself ? Begor ! I hardly knew ye,
skippin' about like a new-married flea ! It's dancin' at Miss
Mary's weddin' ye'll be next, an' Biddy there won't hould a can-
dle to ye in a jig," he said in a tone of amazed admiration, but
with a conciliatory wink at Biddy.

" What's your business, me man ?" replied Mrs. Carmody
sharply, eyeing the imperturbable Tim sourly the while.

" I want to see the masther, ma'am, av it's plasin' to ye."
"Ye can't, thin."

" Phew ! " whistled Tim in seeming consternation, which of
course excited Mrs. Carmody's curiosity.

"What would ye be afther wantin' him for? It's gone to
Ennis fair he is." .

But Tim seemed too much absorbed and disturbed by his
own distressful thoughts to hear her.

"Ay, begor! it's a bad job it is so," he muttered, scratch-
ing his head perplexedly.

"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Carmody anxiously.

" Was it Ennis ye said, ma'am ? " he inquired in turn.

" He went to the fair there this morning. What's happened,
man ? "

" There's a thrain at half-pasht twelve oh, begor ! it's gone,"
he exclaimed, looking up at the kitchen clock. "It's the divil's
luck the divil's own bad luck!" he muttered as he turned to
quit the kitchen. Before he had gone two steps, or Mrs. Carmody
could renew her inquiry, he seemed arrested by a sudden thought
and hope. " Is Miss Mary in ? " he turned round sharply to ask
eagerly.

4o6 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

" She is, but it's lyin' down she is wid a bad headache. If
ye've any message to her I'll take it."

" 'Deed thin, I'm thinkin' it's yereself 'ud be the wan to ax
advice from in regard to yere bein' as knowledgable a woman
as there is in the barony. It's this way it is, ma'am . Ye see
Maybe, now, Biddy 'ud take up the masther's letter to Miss Mary,
who ought to see it anyway," he said, with a wink at Mrs. Car-
mody which expressed that this confidence was too sacred for
Biddy's ear.

" Run up wid the letther to Miss Mary, an' wait for an an-
swer," Mrs. Carmody said to Biddy! The old lady was com-
pletely taken in as well she might be by Tim's troubled man-
ner, and was burning with eagerness to hear the terrible news it
portended.

" Well, Mrs. Carmody, ma'am, here's how it is," Tim began,
as he seated himself comfortably before the fire. " Whin I seen
that thramp mouchin* round the house yestherday, .says I to me-
self, I says, * Maybe that's the thief of the worruld who mur-
dhered the poor ould woman in Lisdoonvarna for the money
she had saved, an' shcraped, an' hid in a shtockin' '; so I folleys
him up to the house, an' wor lookin' in wan of the windeys for
him, whin the masther he sees me, an' tuk me a kick behind
that 'ud shtave in that shtove there, an' sent me about me busi-
ness. But this mornin' I got the offer of another place, ma'am,
an' I must take it or lave it at wanst ; but sorra a wan of me
'ud take it if I thought the ould masther 'ud have me back ; so
I ups an' I goes to Misther Mahon, an' gets him to write me a
character, in regard of his knowin' me since I wor the height of
that table"

At this point Biddy returned breathless with eagerness to
hear the horror, but with the letter still in her hand.

" Miss Mary isn't in her room, ma'am, an' I thought she
might be here, maybe," she said guiltily, fearing that Mrs. Car-
mody would discern her real motive for searching no farther for
the young mistress. But Mrs. Carmody was too busy reading
through Tim's real motives and dodges to trouble about Biddy's.
The sudden change in his manner from distress and distraction
to the coolest composure, as he seated himself by the fire, had
excited a suspicion which the bathos of his story "That roared
so loud and thundered in the index " confirmed.

"Give me the letter," she said, snatching it from Biddy's
hand roughly. " There, me man, ye may go now ; I'll give this
to the masther, never fear." If a shadow of a shade of doubt

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 407

of Tim's diplomatic duplicity had remained in her mind, the
sight now of his crestfallen face would have dispersed it.

" The letther will be no use now," he said, rising, " as I
must take or lave the other place at wanst." As he held out his
hand for it, she put it defiantly in her pocket, sneering : " Sure
it's yere character, it is! An' there's no wan 'ill want more nor
the masther to hear anything good av ye. It will be news to
him, I'm thinkin', as much as to all the counthry side."

" Whatever it is, it's me own letther, an' I'll thank ye to give
it back to me," Tim said sulkily, forgetting all his tact and tac-
tics in his extreme mortification at his defeat.

" Ye've put it in the posht now, me man, an' it 'ill go wheth-
er ye like it or not. Now ! " she cried, defiantly facing him with
her arms akimbo.

Then Tim tried coaxing with no better success, since his ex-
treme anxiety to get back the note only convinced the old
woman that it was a love-letter which would give her revenge
against Miss Mary, and gain her credit for its interception with
Terence Magrath.

Tim, therefore, had to sneak off, mortified and dejected, to
Dick, to whom he told the whole story without exaggeration,
which alone showed how dispirited he was.

Dick, let it be recorded to the credit of his sweet and sunny
nature, said nothing to deepen Tim's dejection and self-condem-
nation. Indeed, the only part of the story which at first seemed
to concern him was the news that Mary had a headache. How-
ever, he soon so far got over the shock of this woeful news as
to take in the consequences to her of this letter getting into her
father's hands. " It's a bad business, Tim, but it was no fault of
yours anyway. What on earth is to be done now ? "

".If ye had a sovereign to spare, Masther Dick," began Tim,
by no means hopefully.

" I have that much anyway, Tim," Dick said, producing the
coin and offering it to Tim, who took it gratefully, touching his
cap as though it were a present to himself. " She'd sell her
ould sowl for a sovereign, Masther Dick ; an' a good bargain,
more be token, it 'ud be for her in regard to the size of it the
ould naygur?" (" naygur " being Munster for " miser"). "An'
anyways if I don't get hould of the letther, she won't get hould
of the sovereign, ye may take yere oath of that, Masther Dick.*'

'* Come back at once, Tim ; for if you can't get it out of her
I must go myself and insist on seeing Miss Mary, who'll make
her give it up."

408 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

" There'll be the divil to pay wid the ould masther," Tim
objected; only to add despondently, "but there'll be that any-
way."

" Well, away with you, Tim ; and good luck to you ! And
maybe you'll see Miss Mary to give her the letter, after all."

IV.

When Tim presented himself a second time to Mrs. Carmody,
whom he found alone in the kitchen, he looked round guardedly
first before he ventured to whisper confidentially, with his hand
at the side of his mouth : "Plase, Mrs. Carmody, ma'am, that let-
ther worn't a character at all " ; looking as though he expected
the old lady to faint with amazement.

"Ah, thin, do ye tell me so now?" sneered Mrs. Carmody
with scorching scorn.

"No, ma'am, I won't desave ye; it was not," Tim rejoined
with the air of a martyr declining to recant at the stake.

"See that now!" cried the old woman sardonically.

" It wor a letther for Miss Mary from Misther Fred Fitzger-
ald, an' he sent me to ax ye for it back, if ye think he's done
wrong in writin' to the young misthress unbeknownst to yerself
an' her father."

"From Misther Fitzgerald?" cried Mrs. Carmody, now gen-
uinely surprised.

" Yes, ma'am : him ye sells the butther to ; an' be the same
token he gev' me wan pound to pay ye wid."

" Sent ye ? " the good lady asked incredulously, but uneasily
also.

"Yes, ma'am. Whin he offers me the place this mornin', I
says, ' I must first see if the ould masther 'ill have me back '.
' Misther Morony, do you mane ? " says he. ' If yere goin' to
Morisk,' says he, * maybe ye'd be afther takin' a letther for me
to Miss Mary, to give her unbeknownst,' says he, an' wid that
he gives me a shillin' ; an' I tuk it, ma'am, I did, more shame
for me ! but I had the place in me eye ; there's where it was,
ma'am."

" It's not his writin', " she answered, taking the letter out of
her pocket and affecting to scrutinize the writing of the address.

But Tim, who knew she could not read, answered boldly :
"Not his writin'? Sure I seen him write it wid me own two
eyes. Look at the writin' on yere butther bills an' compare it,"
he cried quite defiantly, in the confidence that there was no

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 409

such dangerous records of her butter robberies, and that the
reference to such transactions would have an intimidating effect
upon her.

" Where's the money ? " she asked suspiciously after a
pause.

"For the butther? Here it is; but I must make so bould as
to ax ye for a resate for it ? " he said, as though in sullen
offence.

" Sorra a resate ye'll get for it," she answered, suspecting that
a trap was laid for her.

" Ye'll aither give me a resate for it, or ye'll give the letther
foreninst me to Miss Mary, " Tim said defiantly, and added
as an ultimatum, " Thim's me ordhers." He saw that the old
lady was quite cowed by the reference to the butter transactions
while her miserly palm was itching for the money. Without an-
other word she went upstairs and brought Mary down under some
household pretext. " Where's that letther ? " she said to Tim,
standing between him and Mary, and holding out her hand with
the letter in it for the soverei n. Tim took the letter and
dropped the sovereign simultaneously into her hand. " It's from
Misther Fitzgerald, Miss," Tim said as he handed it to Mary,
with all kinds of grotesque facial distortions to do duty for a wink ;
but a glance at the letter had shown Mary from whom it was,
and she said only, with a scarlet face, " Oh, thank you ! " and
fled.

Then Tim turned his back abruptly upon Mrs. Carmody and
quitted the kitchen without a word, in seeming disgust with her,
but in real disgust with himself. " I might as well have pitched
that pound into the horse-pond," he muttered. " Another shake
or two about that butther 'ud have made her dhrop the letther
widout the money at all." The more he thought of this, the
more certain he felt that he had bungled the business, and
thrown a solid sovereign away.

From these gloomy meditations he was 'roused by a shout
that shook his heart. " Halloa ! Is it here ye are again ?
What are ye after now, eh? what are ye after now?" shouted
Michael Morony from afar, as he walked up the avenue on
his return from Ennis. The quick-tempered impatience which
made " the ould masther " roar at him while fully twenty yards
away gave Tim time to get his wits together. " Oh, begorra !
yere honor, I thought I'd stale a march on ye, an' shlip up to
the house whilst ye wor away in Ennis," Tim said with a
deprecatory grin which disarmed wrath.

4io AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

" And what the blazes did you want at the house ? Is it still
smelling after that tramp ye are ? "

" Oh, bedad ! ye cured me of that thramp, yere honor," Tim
replied, rubbing his hand up and down the seat of honor ten-
derly ; " but here's how it is, yere honor : Me father sint me wid
a sovereign towards that tin pound ye paid for him God bless
an' keep yere honor for it ! an' I says, ' I daren't go next or
near the ould masther ; there isn't a man in the barony,' I says,
' wid a fisht or a fut like his,' I says ; ' an' he goes aff like the
crack of a gun,' I says. 'Oh, begorra ! Tim,' he says, 'that's
thrue ; an' maybe it's yere life he'd be takin' nexht,' he says.
' But sure it's Ennis fair to-day,' he says, ' an' it's there he'll be,
I'll go bail ; an' ye can shlip up an' give the money to Miss
Mary. But mind now, Tim,' he says, ' give it to no one but Miss
Mary,' he says, * for that ould Mrs. Carmody 'ud think no more
of keepin' it than she thinks of robbin' the ould masther,' he
says. But sight or sign of Miss Mary I couldn't get, an' I had
to thrust it wid the ould woman afther all, yere honor; an' sorra
a resate she'd give me aither," he added aggrievedly.

" Do you expect me to believe all that ? " asked Michael,
looking keenly into Tim's unblushing face.

" Begor, I don't ! " Tim rejoined promptly. " But sure I can
go back wid yere honor to the house, an' ye can have the life
av me there if it's lies I'm tellin' yere honor."

" Back with you, then," replied Michael, putting his hand up-
on Tim's shoulder and turning him round playfully, since he
could not now doubt the truth of his story. "And so ye have
the feel of that kick still ? " he asked complacently, for he was,
as Tim well knew, immensely proud of the remains of his great
strength.

" Oh, begor ! yere honor, it's pasht a joke it is so. Ye
might have lamed me for life, an' no wan 'ud be more sorry nor
yereself, for yere heart is as good as yere fut."

Michael, now iri high good humor, beguiled the walk up the
avenue with tales of his youthful feats of strength, to which Tim
listened with occasional breathless exclamations : " Oh, wisha,
wisha!" "See that now!" "Did ye ever hear the like?"
"Oh, murdher! murdher ! " etc., etc.

When they reached the house, Tim walked after the master
into the kitchen as bold as brass, and in an intimidating tone
said to Mrs. Carmody: " Ye'll hand over that sovereign I gave
ye just now to the masther. It belangs to him, ye know."

The old crone, in great fear and trembling, thinking that her

1 89 1 .] AN IRISH SCA PIN. 4 1 1

butter robberies had been discovered to the master by the
treacherous Tim, handed the sovereign to Michael without a
word.

" Here," said Michael, handing it to Tim, " that 'ill pay for
the kick, and you may go back to your work."

" Thank yere honor ; the Lord bless an' keep yere honor ! "

As Michael hurried away to look for his idolized daughter
Tim turned to say, in a voic*e which mimicked Mrs. Carmody's
sneering tone of a few minutes back : " Me character 'ud be news
to the masther? Maybe it's yere own character that 'ill be news,
an' bad news, to him ! Lishten here to me now : I haven't tould
him yet av yere thrickin' an' thievin' ; but if ye let wan worrd
out of yere mouth to the ould masther about that letther, ye'll
find yereself in Ennis jail."

In truth, the agony of terror into which his re-demand of the
sovereign had evidently thrown the old crone had given Tim
his cue of intimidation.

Tim, upon his return to Dick to report progress, had the dis-
cretion to say nothing of the story he had imposed upon " the
ould masther," for whom Dick had a great respect. He simply
informed Dick that the old woman t was terrified by a threat of
exposure of her robberies into giving Mary the letter, and that
he had met " the ould masther " in such good humor that he
took him back. (The sovereign, which he knew " Masther Dick "
could ill spare, he returned without a word.)

Mary, however, contrived to let Dick know what had really
restored that scamp, Tim, to her father's favor. The delicate
reticence which made the exuberant Tim suppress a story of suc-
cessful roguery surprised and impressed Dick much more than
his generous resignation of the sovereign. He did not, however,
and indeed dared not, expose Tim's roguery to Mary, who would
be shocked by the deceit practised upon her father. But the de-
ceit she herself was practising on her father? She was utterly
wretched about it. Again and again she cried out, " O Dick,
it's wicked /"

" But it would be more wicked to marry a man you
hated."

" But I needn't do either," she answered distressfully and
without, of course, a thought of coquetry.

u You leave me out of consideration altogether, dearest,"
Dick moaned.

" Ah, Dick ! if it was only myself I had to consider I wouldn't
be here this evening," she answered truly and sadly.

412 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

"And you think you love me!" cried Dick with impatient
petulance.

" Don't you ? " was all she answered, but with such a look
as silenced, satisfied, and intoxicated him.

Then there was a relapse into idle nothings from which they
were aroused by Tim.

Let me explain how Tim here also came to play the Deus ex
machind part.

Michael Morony had returned unexpectedly early from Lim-
erick (whither he had gone that morning at the dawn) to find
Terence Magrath seeking everywhere in vain for Mary. Now,
Mrs. Carmody had taken advantage of her master's absence to
make up a parcel of butter for Terence, whose bribery took the
delicate form of paying extravagantly for this article. When,
then, Tim heard the hue and cry for Mary, he hit on a brilliant
ruse for giving the lovers time to separate before an arbor
in the garden, where they were, could be searched. Hearing
" the ould masther," as he stood with Terence at the hall door,
cry, "Where on earth can she have gone?" Tim answered
promptly :

" Sure she's put it in the boot, yere honor."

" Who's put what in the boot, you blockhead ? " cried
Michael.

" Mrs. Carmody, yere honor. She put it in the boot five
minutes ago."

" Put what in the boot ? What are you talking about ? "

" The butther, yere honor, that Misther Magrath bought from
Mrs. Carmody. It's in the boot it is, Misther Magrath, all
right." And Tim as he spoke officiously opened the boot
of the dog-cart and pointed to the basket of butter. Now, as
Michael Morony, once set on a scent, ran it down doggedly, and
as Terence Magrath had none of Tim's readiness of resource
or speech, there was no doubt whatever of a tremendous row,
which would give Tim ample time and opportunity to warn the
lovers.

"What does this mean, sir?" cried Michael, turning fiercely
upon the shivering Terence. " Have you been buying my butter
from my housekeeper?"

" I I she told me you were selling it ! " stammered Terence.

"You lie, sir; you lie! you lie!" reiterated Michael furiously.
" Send the hag here ! " he roared to Tim.

Off rushed Tim for Mrs. Carmody, who from the kitchen
commanded a view of the garden gate.

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 413

" I think the masther is afther looking for ye, Mrs. Carmody,
ma'am," he suggested sweetly ; and having hereby got her out
of the kitchen and out of sight of the garden gate, he rushed
off into the garden to warn the lovers.

Tim felt, not without pardonable pride, that he was killing
three birds here with one stone : Mrs. Carmody, who, as he had
learned from Biddy, was working incessantly and underhandedly
for his dismissal, would herself be dismissed ; Terence Magrath,
"Masther Dick's" rival, would also be sent about his business;
and " Masther Dick " would be given time and opportunity
to get away undetected.

At a discreet distance from the arbor Tim called out " Mas-
ther Dick ! " since it would spare " Miss Mary " embarrassment
to have the state of affairs told her by " Masther Dick," instead
of directly by himself.

Dick was not a moment mastering the situation, which he
hurried back to explain to Mary ; adding gleefully, " Exit Mr.
Terence Magrath ! "

Mary was, however, too much troubled and conscience-stricken
to take this idea well in. What would she say when her father
asked her where she was and what she was doing? She could
not bear to lie, especially to him.

But she was spared this base necessity, since her father's fury
with Mrs. Carmody and Terence engulfed everything else in his
mind. When she appeared upon the scene he was thundering
at Mrs. Carmody ; but at sight of Mary he turned sharply (as a
bull in the arena turns at sight of another flaunting red flag)
upon Terence Magrath. "And you, sir; and you Mary, come
here! Do you see this man? He is a thief! Do you hear? A
thief ! A thief ! A thief ! " he cried, almost inarticulate with rage.
As he threatened to inflict personal chastisement on the stu-
pefied Terence, Mary put her arms about him and cried remon-
strantly, " Father ! "

Meanwhile Terence climbed clumsily into the dog-cart, from
which safe eminence he shouted as he drove away, "You're
drunk, man ! " the only brilliant repartee he could think of.

Whereat Michael's fury foamed out afresh, and he was with
difficulty restrained by his daughter from running after the trap
to stone its occupant. Mary, however, got him into the house,
and into his favorite chair, and filled his pipe and lit it for him.
Michael pulled at it furiously, till the smoke arose in volumes,
as from the Burning fiery furnace of his wrath, while every now
and again he took it from between his lips to cry: "The ras-

414 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

call" "A pound or two of butter!" "I could put him for
it where he'd get little butter to his bread, or bread to his
skilly."

" Father," Mary said presently, when she had filled and lit
his third pipe (for Michael when excited smoked a pipe in a
few puffs) " Father, he's not worth worrying about ; he isn't a
gentleman."

" A gentleman, Moiryah ! But who ever took him for a gen-
tleman ? We've no call to be looking for gentlemen. I'm not a
gentleman for that matter. You'll be looking down upon your
old father next, I suppose, because you've been to a grand
boarding-school."

Was this simply the " wash " of the storm of his fury dashing
blindly against her ? Or had some one told him of Dick ? The
fact was that Mrs. Carmody, upon finding that Tim had informed
upon her, took the natural revenge of informing upon Tim.
She had shrieked out high above the thunder of Michael's abuse
of her: "Tim Dooley 'ud be betther mindin' his own business
of carryin' letthers betune Miss Mary and her young gentle-
man."

At the time Michael was in too great a fury to take this in ;
but now Mary's mention of the word " gentleman " recalled it
to him. Was this a lie of that old woman? Or was it possible
that his Molly was carrying on a clandestine correspondence with
some young gentleman ? He dared not ask Mary directly, since
he dreaded above all things in the world a quarrel with his
adored daughter. He looked sharply at Mary when he said :
"You'll be looking down upon your old father next, I suppose,
because you've been to a grand boarding-school."

But Mary's answer neither confirmed nor disarmed suspicion,
since she said only : " You've no right to say such a thing as
that, father. It is to look down upon me as the meanest of
creatures." As she was plainly, greatly and justly hurt, he could
not help soothing her ; but at the same time he determined to
heckle that rascal, Tim, upon the subject of this letter-carrying
business.

He went off straight-away in search of Tim, who was no-
where to be found- unless by the faithful Biddy. This young
woman, hearing the master call for Tim, and knowing that Mrs.
Carmody had informed against him, hurried off to find him
and to warn him to decamp. " The ould wan " Biddy's invaria-
ble name for Mrs. Carmody " The ould wan tould the masther
that ye wor always carryin' letthers from young gentlemen to

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 415

Miss Mary ; an' he's roarin' for ye now, like a mad bull." So
the discreet Tim decamped.

VI.

Tim naturally, upon quitting Morisk, made for " the Abbey,"
Dick's home.

He found Dick in the same little den as before, smoking
and building castles in the air on the foundation of Terence
Magrath's dismissal. He immediately fell upon Tim for conceal-
ing from him the true story of the sovereign affair.

" Sure, thin, ye know, Masther Dick, it's mad ye'd be wid
me for makin' a hare of the ould masther ; but, begorra, it's a
raal hare he'd have made av me, if I'd no shtory ready: faith
he would so ! " Then there followed a little contest over the
sovereign, which Tim at last was forced and fain to accept.

" But, Masther Dick, there's the divil to pay up beyant.
Ould Carmody tould the masther that I tuk a letther to Miss
Mary from ye, an' it's fit to be tied he is ! "

" Oh ! " cried Dick in consternation.

" An' Miss Mary, she says to me, she says, ' Tim,' she says,
' 1 haven't time to write,' she says, ' an' ye must run over to
Misther Mahon ' Misther Mahon she always calls ye to me r
Masther Dick * run over to Misther Mahon,' she says, ' an' ax
him to write me a letther I can show me father,' she says, ' to
apologize for writin' to me unbeknownst to him/ she says,
* about gettin' ye back into yere place, Tim,' she says. ' An'
ax him to spake very respecful in it of me father,' she says.
Begorra, she's right there, Masther Dick ; for the ould masther
likes a bit of butther as well as any man, or woman either, in
the barony."

" Did she tell you she must be in great trouble," Dick said
distressfully, more to himself than to Tim.

" Sure wan roar av the ould masther's 'ud shake the heart
out av Cromwell, let alone a tinder-hearted shlip of a gurl, like
Miss Mary."

" Did she seem in great distress, Tim ? "

" She did, Masther Dick in a way av spakin' " ; this quali-
fication having been wrung from him by Dick's look of wretch-
edness.

" She must have been in terrible trouble to ask for a letter
like that," Dick said again, rather to himself than to Tim.

" If ye're in a field wid a mad bull, Masther Dick, ye must

VOL. LIV. 27

416 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

blind it wid throwin' yere coat over its head an' run for it ;
there's where it is."

As Dick departed to write the letter, Tim said : " Masther
Dick, if I might make so bould, I'd put me respects for the
ould masther in shthrong. Ye couldn't put it too shthrong to
plase her, or him either, begor. If ye'd be afther sayin now,"
Tim continued insinuatingly, " there worn't his like in the coun-
thry side for goodness, an* cleverness, an' iverything, he'd take
it kindly, I'll go bail." Tim looked so wistfully anxious about
this that Dick could not help smiling.

"All right, Tim; I'll not forget."

Upon Dick's departure Tim looked disturbed for a few
moments and muttered: " Begob, he'll be tearin' mad, an' Miss
Mary too ; but sure it's ruined all three together we'd be if I
didn't put the ould masther aff the scent. Och ! they'll come
round, divil a fear, whin they see the hole I've pulled 'em out
av."

Tim no sooner got the letter from Dick than he hurried off
upon urgent business to escape further questions ; since, as his
lies would probably be overtaken in a day or two, he didn't
care to tell more of them than were absolutely necessary.

Next morning Tim went " mouching " round the house as on
the first day of our introduction to him, till he heard Michael's
voice in the kitchen, when he opened the door of the porch
leading intd the kitchen and, having waited for an interval of
silence, called out in a hoarse conspirator's whisper, " Biddy ! "

Biddy hurried out to warn him of the ould master being in
the kitchen, but before she got near enough to give him this
caution Tim said, in a raucous whisper which Michael could
hear distinctly, " It's a letther for Miss Mary," handed it to her,
and fled.

Michael rushed out in a frenzy of fury. " Hould him !
Catch him ! Give me that letter ! Send Miss Mary here ! I'll
have his life ! " And away he rushed after Tim, who was well
out of sight and reach before his master had got to the yard
gate.

In tearing open the yard gate Michael dropped the letter,
which diverted his attention to it. He picked it up, and then
and there tore off the envelope and read it where he stood. It
was interesting to watch the succession of expressions which
crossed his face as he read, of bewilderment, relief, self-com-
placency, and finally of shame and embarrassment. How face
Molly? No one in the world would feel more poignantly the

1891.] AN IRISH SCAPIN. 417

outrage of the suspicion which made him basely violate her
letter. Poor Michael returned to the house, crestfallen and
miserable, to find Mary, in fear and trembling, coming to meet
him. Biddy had not only gone for her as she was bidden, but
had told her the cause of the summons. The crisis had come
at last which would lose her her lover and the love of her
father. It may be imagined, then, what her bewilderment was
when her father met her with shame and contrition in his face
and in his tone, as he said : " Molly dear, will you ever forgive
me ? I I read your letter." Mary took the letter without a
word, in complete stupefaction, which was not lessened when she
proceeded to read it :

DEAR Miss MORONY : I must apologize for the unintentional
offence I have given you by writing to you without your fa-
ther's knowledge about Tim Dooley. The poor fellow seemed
in such extreme distress at the loss of so good a place that I
could not help entreating you to use your influence with your
father to reinstate him. I hope I need not tell you that no
one has a deeper respect for your father than I, or would be
more sorry to do anything to deserve his disapproval or dis-
pleasure. Believe me, dear Miss Morony,

Yours very truly,

"RICHARD G. MAHON."

What on earth did this mean ? She stood looking at the
letter long after she had read it in stupefied bewilderment,
which her conscience-stricken father took for inexpiable offence
with him for the baseness at once of his suspicion and of the
violation of her letter caused by his suspicion.

" Molly dear," he said at last tremulously, " can you ever
forgive me ? How could I suspect you ? " The words, the trem-
ulous tone, the look of yearning for forgiveness were too much
for poor Mary, whose nerves had been unstrung through weeks
of mental and moral conflict. Flinging both her arms round
her father's neck, she broke down into an almost hysterical pas-
sion of tears. Her father, hardly less overcome himself, helped
her into his own smoking-room, and here was again proceeding
to express his shame and contrition when she sobbed out : " No,
no, no, father ! Don't say such things to me ! I am all you
thought me, and worse. Listen ! " And kneeling at his feet she
told him the whole course and story of her love. Michael's
first thought was one of absolute relief that he had not been
the brute to Molly he had supposed himself! His next was an

4i 8 AN IRISH SCAPIN. [Dec.,

access of love and worship of the girl for her noble confession
for Michael was the most generous of men but his last thought
was one of anger with Dick for trying to take him in by such
a letter. " He's not worthy of you, Molly ! A man who could
write a sneaking, scheming letter like that ! "

Mary could hardly believe her ears! Was this all he had to
say, and this said in the gentlest of tones! Rising to her feet
she put her arms round his neck and kissed him again and
again. " Father, you are good. There never was such a fa-
ther ! " was all she could say.

" But he's not worthy of you, Molly ; he isn't indeed. I
don't mind his being poor, but to be so mean ! And he a gen-
tleman too ! "

" Father, it wasn't he at all his fault, I mean. It was Tim,
I know."

"Tim?"

" Yes. Promise me now you won't fly out at Tim, if I get
him in here and question him before you."

"I'll try not, dear; but he is the divil's own!"

Not without difficulty Mary discovered Tim at last, and not
without immense difficulty induced him to face " the ould
masther."

" Only tell the truth, and he'll not touch you, Tim."

" Sure the truth 'ill kill me entirely, Miss Mary."

"It won't hurt you, Tim, and it will serve Mr. Mahori; and,
anyway, my father knows it already. Do tell the whole truth,
Tim."

" I will, miss ; I will," Tim said with an air of making a
great moral effort and sacrifice.

When, however, he found himself in Michael's close presence,
he kept as near as possible to the door with the handle clutch-
ed nervously in his hand, ready for flight at any moment ; and
he told his story in the watchful and uneasy way of a rook
feeding in a field, which lifts its head to look all round after
every peck. As for telling the exact truth, that seemed impos-
sible to him ; but with a quick understanding of his present cue
he made his exaggerations tell in Mary's and Dick's favor. " I
tould him the ould masther was in a divil av a timper (" an'
begorra, yere honor, there's times whin you do be angry," Tim
interpolated deprecatingly) ; " an' that ye threatened to turn
Miss Mary out of house an' home, an' niver see or spake to
her ag'in ; till she wor fair out of her mind, an' axed me to get

IRISH SCAPIN. 419

a letther she could show yere honor that it wor .about me he
wor writin' to her. An' so it wor, miss, worn't it now ? "

" Partly."

" See that now, yere honor ! " cried Tim, triumphant over
even so slight but so unusual a flavoring of truth. " But begor !
it wor all I could do to get him to write it. ' Are ye sure she
axed ye for a letther like that ? ' he says. * I can't believe it,'
he says, * an' she so honorable an' so fond of the her father,'
he says, ' an' him the best man in the counthry,' he says.
' There isn't his like in Munsther,' he says, ' for sthraight doin's
an' dalin's,' he says; 'an' it goes agin nature,' he says, 'to de-
save him,' he says."

Poor Mary felt that Tim was ruining the credit of the whole
story by this outrageous and incredible flattery; but Tim knew
his man well, and watched with the pleasure of an artist his
blarney smoothing out the black looks in Michael's face as the
song of the Lady in " Comus " smoothed

" the raven-down
Of Darkness till it smiled."

To make a long story short, the net result of Tim's florid
diplomacy was to dispose Michael strongly in Dick's favor ! An
acquaintance, which grew soon into an intimacy, did the rest ;
and Michael before very long came to boast of the real gentle-
man his daughter was going to marry, as though Dick had been
a clever discovery and acquisition of his own.

Tim married Biddy, and made a small fortune for his mas-
ter Dick by his horse-dealing transactions. Mrs. Carmody
begged her bread from door to door, and was found at last
dead in a ditch with 264 sovereigns and some coppers concealed
about her person. And of course Dick and Mary "lived happy
ever after."

RICHARD ASHE KING.

420 DR. BOUQUILLON AND THE SCHOOL QUESTION. [Dec.,

DR. BOUQUILLON AND THE SCHOOL QUESTION.*

DR. BOUQUILLON, " at the request of ecclesiastical superiors,"
has here put into a ten-cent pamphlet of thirty-one pages the true
answer to the education question. What strikes us as its pecu-
liar merit is that it is expository and not controversial. His
discussion of the entire subject, as to the rights of men generally
to educate, those of parents, of the church, and of the state,
is but a clear statement of the common doctrine of Catholic
authors, philosophers, and publicists.

He holds that nature vests a right to teach in every individ-
ual who has any knowledge to impart, and therefore in every
lawful association of individuals. He holds that the parent has
a high natural right to teach his child in the entire domain of
knowledge, though in matters of religion Catholic parents exer-
cise this right under the guidance of the church, and in secular
matters subject to correction by the state. The church has a
right directly God-given to teach the truths of the Christian re-
ligion, and an indirect right to teach those of nature and science
as far as they are needful or useful for revealed religion.

The civil authority, the author maintains, has the right to
provide by its own agents for the teaching of all human know-
ledge ; that is, to educate in all the temporal branches, doing so
in the same way as it governs and judges, through officials
fitted for the duty. " It has been said," continues Dr. Bou-
quillon, "that the state cannot teach, because it has no teaching
to give. An absolutely false assertion. The state has its own
doctrines and must have them. How otherwise could it make
laws ? We must, however, admit that the state is not qualified
to define and impose religious doctrines." The author then
affirms that the state cannot claim a right to teach error, or to
destroy the rights of parents, or to injuriously interfere with the
rights of any individuals to privately or corporately set up
schools and teach. But, nevertheless, he maintains that educa-
tion is a mission incumbent on the state, a specific duty of pro-
viding training in letters, the sciences, and arts ; and this duty
is comprised in the general one of providing for the common

* Education : To Whom does it belong ? By the Rev. Thomas Bouquillon, D.D., Pro-
fessor of Moral Theology at the Catholic University of America, Washington, D. C. Balti-
more : John Murphy & Co.

1891.] DR. BOUQUILLON AND THE SCHOOL QUESTION. 42!

good. Of course, Dr. Bouquillon does not look upon this duty
as essential to the state's existence, but rather as incidental.
" Individuals, families, associations may have provided all the
education that is necessary. In that case the state is freed from
its obligation. But we must add that in primary education this
hypothesis is rarely realized. . . . We may therefore assert
that, generally speaking, the state is bound to take measures for
the diffusion of human knowledge. It can accomplish this glo-
rious mission by encouraging private efforts, helping parents, es-
tablishing schools, appointing capable teachers. If this duty falls
on the state at large, it binds more particularly, as to primary
education at least, the local authority of municipal communities,
as they represent more immediately the families. Certainly
among the local interests for which the municipality should
provide the education of children holds the first rank.
We do not mean to say that the state may teach only when
and where individuals fail to do their duty. The exercise of
the duty of the state is allowable whenever the state judges the
exercise of this duty to be useful, without being absolutely
necessary."

Dr. Bouquillon maintains that the state, holding the authori-
ty of God in temporal matters, may justly coerce negligent par-
ents to send their children to school ; that it may determine a
minimum of instruction, which it shall make obligatory, quoting
Taparelli to the effect that this minimum varies with the country
and the age ; that it has a right to exact from teachers evi-
dences of capability ; that " it may also prescribe this or that
branch, the knowledge of which, considering the circumstances,
is deemed necessary to the majority of the citizens " ; and, of
course, may lawfully cause inspection for purposes of hygiene and
public morality. These powers of the state the author proves
to extend over all schools whether private or corporate, con-
trolled by individuals or by the state. But he emphatically de-
nies that the state has power to " force the father to send the
child to a certain determined school, if the father chooses to give the
prescribed minimum at home or in any school of his choice" em-
phasizing this restriction by italics.

After reading the argument one can hardly help admitting, if
he ever doubted, that the educational rights claimed by the
author for the state are inseparable from sovereign authority.
As to whether or not the letter or spirit of American institutions
imposes restrictions upon their use by our States is another ques-
tion. But the domicile among us of so many millions of Euro-

422 DR. BOUQUILLON AND THE SCHOOL QUESTION. [Dec.,

peans certainly introduces another factor into the problem. If,
for example, a system or grouping of schools should undertake to
teach imperialism, or anarchism, or should prohibit the use of
the common and official language of the state, the wildest Jeffer-
sonian would claim for the state the right of interference.

On the other hand, the exercise of the State's supervisory
and corrective right over private schools may amount to so large
a measure of control as to make the schools practically public
institutions, and call for aid from the public funds for carrying
out the state's requirements ; either that, or result in the ex-
tinction of the schools, and hence of private education, by a
tyrannical abuse of power. But such matters as these are not in
the scope of Dr. Bouquillon's thesis.

There is not a single paragraph, not a line, in this pamphlet
which fails to hold the reader's deepest attention. It is a splen-
did specimen of reasoning assisted by the authority of distinguished
philosophers and publicists. The writer goes far some will think
too far in recognition of the state's functions as an educator.
But a calm consideration of his arguments, as well as of his
authorities, will leave the reader convinced of his thesis, unless,
indeed, the heat of previous controversy has warped his judg-
ment.

Let us trust that Dr. Bouquillon will continue his contribu-
tions to the solution of the questions of the day. His great
learning, his admirable frankness, his very rare power of sum-
mary statement, and his connection with the Catholic University,
all fit him to teach us, and to assist our non-Catholic friends
and enemies to understand us. The concluding paragraph is so
pithy a synopsis of the whole essay that we give it entire, trust-
ing that the reader will secure the pamphlet for use and refer-
ence : " Education : to whom does it belong? is the question
with which we started out. We now make answer : It belongs
to the individual, physical or moral [this last term refers to
teaching corporations], to the family, to the state, to the church ;
to none of these solely and exclusively, but to all four combined
in harmonious working, for the reason that man is not an iso-
lated but a social being. Precisely in the harmonious combina-
tion of these four factors in education is the difficulty of prac-
tical application. Practical application is the work of the men
whom God has placed at the head of [the church and the state,
not ours."

1891.] Miss PEARSELY' s CHRISTMAS INF AIR. 423

MISS PEARSELY'S CHRISTMAS INFAIR.

WHATEVER defects of character Miss Pearsely might have
possessed, want of energy was not one of them. If anything, she
was too energetic, at least so thought a number of her neighbors,
the greater number of her pupils she had a little school and
so had thought her only living relative, her nephew, Phil Buck-
am, when he packed up a bundle of his clothes and ran away
from Tambora for parts unknown. In regard to Phil's elope-
ment the neighbors were divided in their opinions. Some, like
Joseph Ote, general dealer and postmaster of Tambora, held
that Miss Lucy, as Miss Pearsely was invariably called, had
been too severe with the boy. " Ef he didn't give stric' accont
uv all his time, et is for a fac' well beknown to we all that the
boy was a hahd wukkah," said Mr. Ote to Mrs. Gresham, as he
did up a small parcel for that lady.

"Yes," answered Mrs. Gresham in her piping voice, that
always seemed to be making an effort to conciliate you, " I know
it was too hahd in Lucy Pearsely to accuse the boy of loafing ;
tha's what she called him, Mr. Ote an idle loafah ; but I'm quite
of Father Tait's opinion, both were to blame. Now, Milly, she
blames Miss Lucy altogether ; and positively, that is to say, I'm
incline' to believe, my Milly is right."

" I have great respec' for Father Tate, but I hoi' to it that
in her jedgment Miss Milly is right," declared Mr. Ote, with
an air of great politeness. " And, Miss Gresham, don't forget
my bes' respec's to youah young lady daughtah."

" It's very kin' of you, Mr. Ote, I'm shuah," answered Mrs.
Gresham, adjusting her veil ; " and please, Mr. Ote, let me have
the half bahl flour as soon as convenient."

" It shall be sent up immejiately," said Mr. Ote, and gath-
ered up Mrs. Gresham's parcels to deposit them in the gig the
lady herself drove.

Mr. Ote's and Milly Gresham's opinion as to who was to
blame for Phil Buckam's elopement was that of the better class
of Tamborians. (Tambora, as every one knows, is a village not
far from Natchez, settled in the early part of this century by
emigrants from Maryland.) The more conservative opinion of
Father Tate was held only by himself. The shiftless and less
respectable portion of the community blamed Phil, condoning all

424 Miss PEARSELY'S CHRISTMAS INFAJR. [Dec.,

Miss Pearsely's derelictions in the saying that " Miss Lucy done
fur him sence he was a spot uv a baby, an' he ought ter stood
by her, an' fur her, even ef she "did flog 'im, which wahn't
more'n he did jest deserve."

During the ten years that had elapsed since Phil had been
flogged, to the time of the event in Miss Pearsely's life about to
be related, no one but Father Tate and Milly Gresham ever
learned how she herself felt about it. To Father Tate she re-
pentantly admitted that she had made a mistake ; that she had
been wrong, and a miserable sinner against holy charity. To
Milly she acknowledged the same, but more circumstantially.
" You know, Milly dear," she would repeat Milly never tiring
of hearing the same old story " you know how I was wrapped
up in Phil. I wanted to give him all the advantages I could,
but somehow he wouldn't study as I thought he ought to. He
w* always dreaming over a piece of pencil or charcoal, and bits
of paper and boards. I know now, he was too young to be
kept down to a book as I kept him ; and too old he was six-
teen and tall for his age, and I needn't tell you how handsome
yes, he was too old to be whipped, and I had never whipped
him before. I had set him a task ; it was to translate a chapter
from the Historia Sacrce. Phil always hated Latin above all
things, and I gave him the same book to translate out of that
my father had used. He had begged hard for a holiday, but
Milly dear, I can't help crying if I had only granted it ! After
awhile I came in the room where I had put him, to see how he
was getting on, and feeling half-inclined to let him off the rest
of the task if I found he had begun well. The first thing I
saw was the Latin book on the floor and the bottle of ink on
top of it. I couldn't speak ; it seemed to me all the blood in
my body rushed to my head. I just caught him by the shoulder
and shook him. He dropped his pencil he had been drawing
and looked me in the face ; sad and reproachful were those looks
of his, and I took it for impertinence. I don't know how I
could so demean myself, but I said, ' Phil Buckam, you are an
idle loafer !' and I told him how I had cared for him, and how
he ought to be a support to me instead of being a burden to
rrie. * See what you have done/ I said, pointing to the Latin
book ; ' you did that out of spite because it was your grand-
father's book, and you knew I held it in dear remembrance.'
' Why, auntie,' he said, in such a stupid way I might have known
he was innocent, ' I didn't do it a-purpose. I didn't know till

1891.] Miss PEARSELY' s CHRISTMAS INF AIR. 425

just now I did do it.' I was all beside myself. ' How dare you
say such words to me ?' I said. ' I could forgive you for any-
thing but for a lie, and I'm going to whip you for that; so take
off your coat.' Milly, his face got white just like a dead person's.
' I'm not telling a lie," he denied ; * I was drawing, and didn't
notice " ; and he handed me what he had been drawing. I tore
it in two and tossed it out the window. * No more words,' I
said shortly, ' take off your coat ' ; and I snatched up his ruler
that lay on the table. He gave me a look black as thunder,
but he took off his coat and folded his arms so, and stood up
straight as a church-steeple. I can't bear to tell how I struck
his back with that ruler ; and when I had finished he said, ' I
wouldn't let a man do that, and I'll never give you a chance to
do it again.' And he took up his coat and marched out of the
room. I've never seen him since, Milly, and now I'm afraid he's
dead. From the first year he has been sending me money, once
a year about the first of December, till last year and this year.
At first he sent a little, and then more, and then more, till I
have pretty near a thousand dollars saved in my mother's silver
tea-caddy. Father Tate says it's my pride, and shows that I
have never really forgiven Phil, because I have never spent any
of it. But, Milly, I have saved it for him, for fear he may come
to want. I never had any call to spend it, and now I don't
know what's happened him. I was always glad to receive the
money, though without any word from him, for it was a sign
that he was well and prosperous. The best Christmas gift I
could get would be a sign from him ; but let it come, Christ-
mas or no Christmas, it would be just as welcome."

It was on a Christmas eve, in her class-room, that the above
was related to Milly Gresham for the hundredth time. And now
Milly said, " I'm glad you found the picture, at any rate."

" Yes, but not half so glad as I am. And to think it was
me he drew !" exclaimed Miss Pearsely. " I never was beauteous,
but I didn't think even in a picture I could be made to look so
pleasant. Would you like to see it again, Milly ?"

Milly said that she would, and Miss Pearsely took from a
shelf a paper- parcel, which she opened, displaying a drawing,
that had been torn and then carefully pasted on a card-board,
of a sweet-faced woman and a pretty girl in a short frock.
" That just looks like you when you were twelve, Milly," said
Miss Pearsely.

They talked over the merits of the picture till the gathering

426 Miss PEARSELY' s CHRISTMAS INFAIR. [Dec.,

twilight warned the younger woman that she must be on her
way home. "I'll see you at Mass to-morrow/' she said, "and,
dear Miss Lucy, I'll be here to-morrow afternoon with mother
for the infair."

" Yes, of course ; and I'm sure we're going to have a fine
day," said Miss Pearsely, peering at the sky; "and, Milly dear,
I'm so glad you call it an infair, and not a reception. Stick to
the good old customs," she added staidly.

Saying that she had no idea of departing from honorable
and ancient customs, Milly Gresham trotted out into the
darkening village street towards her home, which stood at the
other end of Tambora in a little plot of field and garden.

Left to herself, Miss Pearsely lit a lamp and set it on a table
placed in the middle of the class-room. " It looks very well,"
she said to herself, as she gazed about her admiringly. " I don't
believe the room was ever before so well tricked out for my in-
fair." The class-room was large, and the desks and benches hav-
ing been removed, it looked very large. The house had been
robbed of most of its chairs and its one sofa to provide
seats for the guests at the infair. A table covered with white
linen stood at the far end, decorated with all manner of garden
flowers, and well provided with sweetmeats and cold meats, now
under cover. Branches of red cedar laden with their sweet-
smelling silver" berries hung against the walls, and garlands of
that December flower, the white and red camellia, hung in fes-
toons from branch to branch ; and at intervals temporary
brackets held lamps that would be lit on the morrow. " It
really looks like a church," Miss Pearsely's thoughts continued ;
and this thought gave rise to a thankful ejaculation that she
had made sure to go to confession before the work of decoration
had been begun. " I would have been all distractions if I had
waited till after," she said half-aloud.

Miss Pearsely began to teach school when she was twenty,
and had taught for twenty-eight years. And each one of these
twenty-eight years had witnessed a Christmas infair, given by her
to her pupils and their relatives. As there were very few per-
sons in Tambora who could not in some way claim kinship with
the pupils, the infair was not only given on a scale of unpar-
alleled grandeur, but was attended by a number of visitors so
great as to overflow from the class-room into the house which-
adjoined it. Of course during the years of the war this had not
been the case. But, as Miss Pearsely herself said, those were

1891.] Miss PEARSELY'S CHRISTMAS IN FAIR. 427

exceptional years. Any increase or decrease in the population
only had reference to the infair in Miss Pearsely's mind. If
some one died, that was some one not to be expected at the infair.
Or if some one was born, that some one, in all probability, would
in a few years be present ; indeed, as was not unseldom the
case, might come as a baby.

Aside from Father Tate, who, because of his orders, was
head and shoulders above every one else, Mrs. Gresham in theory
was the head of Tamborian society. And never was there head
of society so meek and so lowly. But actually Miss Pearsely
was the head ; not only from the fact that her ancestors had
been important landed proprietors, but from the other fact as well,
that she had everybody's genealogy at her fingers' ends. Woe
betide the Tamborian who made false claims to ancestry ! Miss
Pearsely would whip out that person's pedigree, give name after
name, till the mortified and abashed usurper would remorsefully
desire that his or her family had belonged to the lost tribes of
Israel. There was this difference between the ancestors of the
actual and the theoretical head of the society of Tambora, a dif-
ference much expatiated on by Miss Pearsely's enemies, who
were, as has been said, of the shiftless and less respectable order
of Tamborians. Mrs. Gresham's people had lost their estates
through unmerited misfortunes, whereas Miss Pearsely's grand-
father had drank his up ; not literally, but by a figure of speech.
Miss Pearsely always spoke of her grandfather's death as having
been caused by gout, and thought so highly of it that it is very
doubtful if any Tamborian, unless a Gresham or a Tate, would
have dared to have been afflicted with that disease in her pres-
ence.

Mrs. Gresham always spoke of herself as a cadet Gresham,
an appellation that mystified a number of the Tamborians, who
were divided in their opinions as to whether she belonged to
the army or was a member of some order of knighthood. If
the little old lady had known that her persistent disclaimer of
the honor of belonging to the older branch of the Greshams
had been misconstrued into a wish to exalt herself, her humble
soul would have been much troubled. Mrs. Gresham's only
pride was the pride she felt in her daughter Milly. Miss Pearse-
ly might acknowledge that the Greshams, being armigers, were
superior to the Pearselys, who were not, and Mrs. Gresham
would shake her head in a conciliatory manner and indulge in
furtive yawns. But let the school-mistress praise Milly, then her

428 Miss PEARSELY' s CHRISTMAS INFAIR. [Dec.,

heart would glow up into her cheeks, her whole self would be-
come animated, and she would find expressions of laudation to
cap Miss Pearsely's most exuberant encomiums.

Strictly speaking, there was no such thing as " society " in
Tambora. The Tamborians were a community with acknow-
ledged heads, and they did not recognize the definition that
would make the word society to mean an exclusive class.
Therefore Mr. Ote, who, by the way, was a sort of dignitary,
being postmaster ; Mr. Tamarask, the blacksmith ; Miss Peters, who
kept the sweet-shop, and all the others were on as equal visiting
terms with the arms-bearing, cadet Greshams as was Father Tate
or Miss Pearsely herself.

This being the case, it is not to be wondered at that Miss
Pearsely counted her chairs for the dozenth time. " I'll ask Mr.
Tamarask to bring his big settee with him, and we'll have to
use some of the school-benches for the children," she pondered.
Then, going to the door of the class-room that led into the
house, she called, " Lobelia ! O Lobelia ! and bring your sun-
bonnet."

" Yes'm, Fse comin'," responded a voice that was immediate-
ly followed by a little negress, attired in a short, cherry-colored
frock, a green gingham sun-bonnet dangling from her arm, a
broad grin on her happy, good-natured face.

" You have had your supper ?" demanded Miss Pearsely.

" Yes'm, an' wash er dishes, an* clar' up," answered Lobelia.

" Now, Lobelia, listen to me. What are you grinning at ? "
questioned Miss Pearsely with some sharpness.

" Mighty putty, Miss Lucy," was Lobelia's vague response.

" Yes, the room does look well ; but pay attention to me"
said Miss Pearsely, much mollified. " You are to go to Mr.
Tamarask and ask him to bring his settee with him to the in-
fair, and give him my respects. And, Lobelia, this is Christ-
mas eve, and down-the-river darkies may be in town. You are
not to mingle with them ; remember that you belong to Tam-
bora."

Lobelia declared that she never forgot it ; which was the
truth,, for the frequent reminders she received kept the fact ever
before her. She also declared that she *' warn't gwine miggle
with no un"; which was not the truth, for she was eager to get
out to see the " down-the-river darkies " dance on the " square-
plot." When informed that Miss Pearsely wished to retire early,
she promised to be back " quicker'n pra'ars." And this promise,

1891.] Miss PEARSELY'S CHRISTMAS INFAIR. 429

so irreverently made, depended largely upon circumstances for
its fulfilment.

With all her vagaries the school-mistress was a very lovable
woman. She had a quick temper, that ever since the flight of
Phil Buckam was wonderfully under control. The love and
pride she had for Tambora and the Tamborians was an excus-
able and amiable foible. Were not the Tamborians, in a way,
her children? How few of them had not received instruction,
love, advice, and a whipping from her ? And did not they love
and revere her ? And she deserved their love, for she was as
generous as the sun, and possessed a heart as big as the world.
Father Tate, for one, never found fault with her pet hobby. If
the lone woman, who had had a life-long battle against fierce
odds, could find an almost rapturous pleasure in believing that
Mrs. Gresham had a right to the fabulous animal seated on a
horizontal baton that was engraved on her few remaining bits of
silver, he was not the man to begrudge her the happiness. Nor
was he the man to refuse her all the comfort and hope he
could give, out of a heart that matched her own, when she, time
and time again, poured forth to him her sorrow for her loss of
Phil.

The memory of the boy ever abided with her. Her first
prayer in the morning, her last prayer at night, was for his hap-
piness here and hereafter. The thought of him scarcely ever left
her, and she thought of him with an intenser sadness and love
on the recurrence of every infair. She was thinking of him now,
as she sat in her arm-chair beside the down-turned light, her
long, thin fingers groping at the beads of the Rosary she held.
"If he were only here to see it all," she thought;* and then
in a muffled voice, as she hid her faded, tearful face in her
hands, she cried : " My God, my God ! to think it was myself
who drove him away ! "

The room was very still. The house-cat came to the top of
the pair of steps that led down to the class-room, entered softly,
and having settled itself comfortably beside its mistress, began
to purr loudly. A horseman passed on the village street, and
stopped a little beyond the school. And now afar off could be
heard the song of the " down-the-river darkies " as they danced
on the " square-plot." But none of these things aroused Miss
Pearsely from her thoughts of Phil.

Ten long years ! He must be a man now, if he was alive ; a
man with a beard and a moustache. She wondered if he wore

430 Miss PEARSELY 's CHRISTMAS INFAIR. [Dec.,

his hair long and brushed back from his forehead without a
part, as was the fashion of male Tamborians. And, if he lived
it was always in her thoughts, " if he lived " had he forgotten
the " Tambora Grand Ongtray," that remarkable piece of music
composed by herself ? No one could play it as Phil Buckam
could. When he had the fiddle in his hand, the " Tambora
Grand Ongtray " was possessed of all the stateliness its composer
had wished to put into it. Had he faithfully attended his du-
ties, as he had been taught ? Yes, she was sure he had ; Phil
had always been a good boy. The Buckams had always been
honest, open, God-fearing men.

The village street was lit up only by the myriad stars in the
clear sky, and by the lights that gleamed in the windows of the
houses that stood wide apart in their several gardens. Those of
the villagers who were abroad were out at the " square-plot "
witnessing the dance. The man who lingered before Miss
Pearsely 's class-room door was evidently not a Tamborian. His
curly hair, close clipped, his well-trimmed beard, and his soft and
perfectly fitting garments of a light color, betrayed him to be a
stranger. He appeared to be in doubt as to what to do or
where to go. He looked up the street, down the street, at the
bright clear sky, and then in at the class-room window. And
then he knocked softly on the class-room door.

" Come in !" said Miss Pearsely, hastily wiping her eyes.

The door opened slowly and a man entered, his soft, light
hat pushed back on his head, his hands held out in a half-sup-
plicating Way.

Miss Pearsely rose to her feet, gave a stately courtesy, and
said in a tone of inquiry : " Good evening, sir ? "

He dashed his hat to the floor, threw out his hands violently,
and cried, " Auntie ! " And then his voice broke.

She was not ordinarily a demonstrative, woman, but now she
fell on her knees, too weak to stand ; caught her arms about
him, and, kissing the hem of his coat, sobbed out, " Phil ! Phil !
God is too good to me, too good ! "

He raised her in his arms and placed her sitting in the arm-
chair, and then, as when he was a boy, knelt by her side, his
head resting on her arm, while she stroked his shining hair.

And now it was who should concede the most. But when all
was said each felt that their stubborn pride had been to blame.

1891.] Miss PEARSELY'S CHRISTMAS INFAIR. 431

The school-mistress had little to tell of her life while Phil was
away, beside the longing she had had for her boy. Phil's story,
however, was a long one a story of much hardship till he had
learned the engraver's art ; then a story of steady success, and
finally a story of sin. " It was only pride made me send
you money, auntie," he said; "as if I could ever repay you for
what you have been to me ! I loved you, but I would not for-
give you. I tried to get along without God. It was easy, that,
till temptation came. I got in with bad company, but, thank
God ! before I fell very low I was taken sick and was at death's
door, when I went back to God. ^1 told everything to the
priest who came to me, and then and there, on what might have
been my death-bed, promised him to come back to you and,
Aunt Lucy, here I am."

Some little while after this, when Miss Pearsely was showing
Phil the drawing she had preserved, she said : ** You wouldn't
know Milly; she is a young woman now, a perfect lady in every
way, and so pretty, Phil ! I used to hope you and she would
grow up together and marry a Gresham would be such a good
match for you. But I suppose there is some one else you are
attached to ? " she sighed.

No, there was no one else, Phil answered, and said that he
remembered what a dear little girl Milly had been.

" Your room has been kept fresh and clean for you, Phil ;
you will remain with me?" she asked.

For the holidays he would, Phil said, and he would be up
from New Orleans very often to see her, and he would go out
and bring in his travelling-bag, which was on the step out-
side.

Later on another rejoiced at Phil's return. That was Lobe-
lia, who rightly conjectured that " Marse Phil " saved her from
the scolding she felt she deserved for having been so long on her
errand to Mr. Tamarask. All signs of a storm were so far re-
moved from the horizon of Miss Pearsely's countenance that she
began to tell in jubulant tones of the wonderful plush gown
Mrs. Tamarask had bought expressly for the infair. But she
had reason to repent of her loquacity when her mistress took
her up suddenly, saying : " You have been naughty, Lobelia ; you
have been down to the square-plot don't deny it ; I see it in
your eyes. I forgive you because because it is Christmas eve.
Go to bed, and don't forget your prayers, and say 'em repen-
tantly ! "

VOL. LIV. 28

432 Miss PEARSELY'S CHRISTMAS INFAIR. [Dec.,

Miss Pearsely's infair was at its height. The Christmas carol
had been sung, the " welcome-snack," which had proved to be a
banquet, had been eaten, and everybody, profusely happy and
congratulatory, now waited for Mr. Ote to speak.

Never before had a speech been made at the Christmas in-
fair, but the sudden return of Phil Buckam seemed to demand
an oration, the Tamborians said. So, when Father Tate declined
to be orator, saying that he must keep all his fine things for
the pulpit, the assembly was unanimous in their election of Mr.
Ote, postmaster and a public officer, as being the one in all
Tambora best fitted to spe^ak. Blushing at the honor conferred
on him, Mr. Ote smoothed out the folds of his store-clothes ;
adjusted the huge camellia in his button-hole, coughed behind
his gay silk handkerchief, and then mounted the pair of steps
that led into the class-room. Being a very polite man, Mr. Ote
was obliged to stand sometimes with his back to the class-room,
sometimes with it to the house, for his audience was in both
these places.

After he had given a delicate cough, and a series of bows
that embraced all in the class-room and in the house, Mr. Ote
began : " Ladies and gentlemen, dear Tamborians : " it was no-
ticed that at this juncture he looked particularly at Miss Pearse-
ly, who blushed because she couldn't help it " when I look upon
the subjec' uv my oration, my heart an' soul it soar' to imperial
heights. (Applause.) When ! look upon th' subjec' stood
betwix them puffectest flowahs of Tambora, Miss Gresham an'
her young lady daughtah, an' Miss Lucy like er lily on a stalk,
I am amaze' ! (Wild applause.) I nevah knew, you nevah knew,
nobody evah knew, er Buckam as wasn't a puffect gentleman
an' lady. An' Mr. Phil Buckam, their las' descendator, is the
equal of the bes' uv his progenitor'. (Cheers.) But, ladies and
gentlemen, dear Tamborian's, the sunnies' sun may have its cloud,
th' brightes' day its sorrow,,, and- man is born to trouble. Th'
idol of his fair lady aunt, th' idol of Tambora, departed hence t'
seek foah fame an' glory in th' wil' wilderness. (Audible sighs.)
To say as he foun' it, es to say but th' plain, unmistak'ble, soul-
upraisin' truth. (Great excitement.) Look en th' meggazines,
an' en wucks of a liter'ry nacha, an' you will fin' th' picture aht
that has made the name uv Buckam a cinamon uv vict'ry from
wheah th' wil' Boreas wail ter wheah th' zeypha' woo ouah
s'uth'n main."

Here the applause was tremendous, an' lasted several min-

1891.] Miss PEARSELY" s CHRISTMAS INFAIR. 433

utes. Like a wise orator Mr. Ote saw that he had reached his
culminating period. So, when silence had again settled on his
auditors, he merely added a few words by way of a neat after-
thought :

"An' now, dear Tamborians," he said, "I've orated sufficien',
an' I make way foah ouah nex' proceeding which is ter

" Step th' floah lightly, foah the dawnce et is wax' ;
Dawnce on, fai'est ladies, don' stop till you ah ax'."

In a twinkling couples were formed for the " Tambora Grand
Ongtray."

Miss Pearsely looked up at Phil to see if he had forgotten.
Phil smiled back at her, whispered a word to Milly Gresham to
ask for a dance, then stooped with a profound bow and kissed
her hand in the good old Tambora fashion ; and how they all
loved him in that he had not descended from their ways !

Had he forgotten the air? Why, when he had relieved the
fiddler of his instrument, and he, Phil, had the fiddle and bow
in his hands, and the " Tambora Grand " poured out through
the room, you felt that you must step as high as a horse to at
all do it justice..

Are you scandalized that after the dance gentle Father Tate,
a rare performer, undertook to " play a tune " ? Let me tell
you that never was there a cleaner, more courteous, more God-
fearing people than they who were assembled at Miss Pearsely's
infair on last Christmas, just a year ago.

ROBERT DASHWOOD.

(Sntt

434 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Dec.,

THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW.

THE most formidable Socialist body in the world, the Social-
istic Labor Party of Germany, has been holding its annual con-
gress at Erfurt. The most marked characteristic of the proceed-
ings was the more moderate tone of the large majority of the
members, a moderation which was shown by their willingness to
adopt for the attainment of their ends peaceful and constitutional
methods. This was looked upon by a small number of the dele-
gates as cowardice and treachery to the principles of the party,
and a secession took place of the more violent members. The
seceders intend to form a new organization. As they only num-
bered five out of a total of two hundred and thirty, it would not
seem that this new party is greatly to be feared. They are, how-
ever, said to have numerous adherents in Berlin. It is somewhat
startling to see how exacting are the demands made upon even
the interior judgment of members of such organizations. While
graciously allowing individual members to criticise the action of
the Socialist members of Parliament, or the decrees issued by the
party organs, the congress demanded that " each Social Democrat
should give his implicit adhesion to the resolutions arrived at by
the majority of the party in matters affecting its general policy."
But, however much we may disapprove of this extreme of pre-
sumption, we cannot but rejoice that the congress should declare
that " the principle that right, truth, and morality should guide
them in all their dealings among each other and towards all men,
of whatever race and religion, still holds good."

The revised programme embraces a large number of propo-
sals which have been long realized in this country, such as uni-
versal suffrage, secret ballot, " one man, one vote," biennial par-
liaments, separation of church and state. Many of the objects
declared by the Social Democrats to be desirable would be ad-
mitted to be so by a numerous class of our readers, such as free
education, free books, the payment of compensation to persons
unjustly accused, arrested, or condemned. Other proposals, while
not perhaps undesirable, would be looked upon as impracticable,
such as free medicine, free dinners for school-children, free burial,
free administration of justice, and free legal advice. To other
demands all Catholics would feel it their duty to offer strenuous

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 435

opposition, such as the secularization of the schools, and the
declaration that the state should always and everywhere treat
religion as mere matter of opinion. Yet it is surprising how
few things there are in the programme of this much-dreaded
body to which conscientious objection need be offered, however
much the wisdom of many of its declared aims may be doubted.
What strikes us as most unwise is that so large a number of pro-
posals should be made ; if the advocates of these changes would
direct their strength to the attainment of some one or two
definite points, it seems to us that the likelihood of success
would be much greater.

Reference to cooking-schools may perhaps seem beneath our
own dignity and that of our readers. Yet they are looked upon as
holding s important a place among the practical efforts which
are being made to ameliorate the condition of the people of
Great Britain that from the throne downwards all classes are
active in promoting theiradvancement and maintenance. On the
occasion of the opening of new premises of the Edinburgh
School of Cookery the ceremony was performed by the Princess
Louise in the presence of lords and ladies too numerous to
mention. What is of greater importance, however, are the mo-
tives for the interest thus taken, and as they apply in their full
force to this country we feel justified in laying them before our
readers. So many women are occupied in the trades now open to
them that they grow up and get married in ignorance of nearly
everything which they ought to know in order to make their homes
comfortable. And what is the consequence ? Their husbands
are tempted to seek other resorts than their own homes, and the
well-being of the family is often destroyed. These schools, there-
fore, supply a want for those who are obliged to work ; but
their usefulness is not confined to these. Nothing is so fre-
quently heard as complaints about servants. But if the mistress
of the house knows nothing about the work which has to be
done and about the way in which to do it, how can she expect
to properly manage her help, or to gain that respect from them
which is essential to efficient service ?

These considerations show the importance of a knowledge of
cookery and domestic economy for the home-life. But even a
national importance may be claimed for this knowledge. The
great thing which a good cook can do is to make something out
of nothing. If a knowledge of cookery will enable a people to

436 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Dec.,

double the nutritive character of the food in every home in the
land, no one will deny that this would be a great contribution
to the solving of the questions which arise from over-population.
That the French are born cooks is a fact of which all the world
is well aware. One of the most surprising events of recent times
was the way in which the war indemnity was paid by France.
It may not be so well known, but it is the fact, that among the
French the savings at the present time are so large that the
greatest difficulty is experienced in rinding safe investments for
them. The French people have every three months five hundred
millions of francs to lend, and to a large extent this vast sum
is made up of the savings of the people at large, and not of the
profits of the capitalist. There is little doubt but that the good
management of the household contributes to this result. In the
opinion of Lord Reay, one of the speakers at the opeaing of the
Edinburgh Cookery School, much of the prevailing drunkenness
was due to bad food. His lordship was inclined to believe that
even the national character was influenced by the character of its
cooking, and referred to a distinguished general on the Continent,
who had persuaded himself that the question of food had perhaps
more influence in this respect than education. Without claiming
for cooking so great an influence as this, every one who is ac-
quainted with the habits of our people will readily admit that
much improvement would result in several ways if they could
be persuaded to give greater attention to the subject.

Nor is it for girls alone that a more practical education is
found to be necessary. The effect of the elementary instruction
in the three R's which has been given since 1870 has been, on the
one hand, to instil something like contempt for manual labor,
and, on the other, so to multiply the number of applicants for
such positions as clerkships that for a single situation of this
kind there are hundreds and hundreds of applications ; while in
the trades which require skilled labor there is an absolute
dearth. The folly of all this is beginning to be recognized, and
a movement in favor of technical education is making good
progress. An attempt also is being made to organize the ele-
mentary schools with a view to the preparation of the children
for what are now the more profitable occupations. Drawing is
already ' included among the subjects to be taught in these
schools, and it is proposed to train the children in the use of
some simple tools adapted to the imparting of manual dexterity.
It is not proposed, indeed, actually to teach any trade, but to

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 437

make the schools do for the working classes what the universities
are meant to do for the more wealthy members of the com-
munity impart, that is, a general education which is to fit them
for their respective subsequent spheres of labor.

Last month we referred to the efforts which are being made
to promote among the children attending the public schools
in Great Britain habits of thrift, by encouraging them to de-
posit in the Penny Banks attached to many schools the pence
which were formerly given in payment for their teaching. The
Education Department has issued a circular in which it endea-
vors to press upon parents and others the importance of encou-
raging habits of thrift and prudence, and giving much informa-
tion as to the facilities which exist for the practice of those
habits, and as to the success which has attended these efforts in
other places. For example, in Belgium, with its 600,000 elemen-
tary scholars, as many as 170,000 have deposits in savings-banks,
such deposits amounting to more than half a million dollars. In
France the number of school banks is more than 24,000, and
there are nearly 500,000 depositors, with amounts standing to
their credit of more than two and a half millions of dollars.
To a former head of the department, Mr. Mundella, the system
of establishing school banks in Great Britain is due. In a cir-
cular issued in 1881 he pointed out the futility of mere abstract
teaching of thrift, and the need of the practical lessons of the
school bank to cope with the improvidence and wastefulness of
the industrial classes. The movement, however, has not been so
successful in England as it deserves to be, for out of 19,310
schools under government inspection only 2,498 have school
banks attached to them. It is to be expected, however, that
the efforts now being made will give a fresh start to the plan.
A Catholic lady, Miss Agnes Lambert, has been a zealous pro-
moter of the movement from its beginning, and has written a
little work, A School Bank Manual, for the use of Managers, Mas-
ters and Mistresses, and Teachers, which will give full informa-
tion to all who may feel an interest in it, or, what would be
much better, a desire to extend to this country a similar system.

The new Education Act, while it has proved advantageous
to the poorer voluntary schools, inasmuch as the additional
grant from the government is in excess of the amount received
from the children's pence, bears somewhat hardly upon the

438 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Dec.,

higher class of schools. To meet this and other difficulties a
system of grouping of schools has been adopted which enables
them to afford one another mutual assistance. A plan adopted
in Scotland for the fostering of religious education deserves to
be brought to our readers' notice. For secular education result-
fees are paid by the government, but for religious education no
such rewards are given. Human nature being what it is, the
teachers have proved somewhat remiss in a field where success
or failure meets with the same result. A- voluntary society has
therefore been established which sends an inspector to schools
willing to receive his visits, and gives fees according to the results
of religious teaching, precisely as the government Education De*
partment would do for a secular subject. In this way it is
hoped to secure from the teachers equal attention to both re-
ligious and secular subjects. It has long been found necessary
to have in each diocese all through the kingdom an inspector of
religious instruction. The excellence of the Scottish plan consists
in the substantial inducements it holds out to the religious
instructors of the children.

At the other end of the social scale the question of educa-
tion has been exciting attention. A contest has recently taken
place in the University of Cambridge which, if .we may judge
by the number of votes polled, has more deeply interested the
members of the Senate than any matter which it has ever been
called upon to decide. T^ie long-discussed question as to the
necessity of classical studies was brought up again by a pro-
posal to appoint a syndicate to inquire whether or not the
study of Greek should be compulsory. Some months ago a
conference of -the head-masters of the principal public schools
was held, in which many of the leading and most experienced
teachers expressed their decided opinion that it would be better
to make the study of Greek optional. The advocates of this
view were defeated by so narrow a majority that they were
encouraged to raise the question at the universities, for which
their schools afford the preparatory studies, and Cambridge was
chosen as being more likely to turn a willing ear to the modern
spirit than the less sympathetic Oxford. They have, however,
experienced a crushing defeat. A majority of 340, out of a
total of 710 votes, decided that the university would not even
so much as inquire into the question. This expression of
opinion is so decisive that it is unlikely that the matter will be
opened again for many years.

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 439

London has been on the verge of a pitched battle similar to
that which took place in 1889 between the riverside workers and
the ship and dock owners. On the one hand, the various unions
of the men have been amalgamated into a vast federation of
trade and labor unions, having a membership of some 450,000.
On the other hand, the employers, dissatisfied with the conditions
imposed as a result of the epoch-making strike, have been en-
deavoring to modify those conditions. Fortunately these efforts
have resulted in effecting what the men themselves professed to
regard as a desirable end : namely, the diminution of the number
of casual laborers and the substituting for them of permanent
employees. According to the methods of hiring hitherto adopted,
men were engaged for the day, or even for the hour, and as
there were generally more men seeking employment than there
was work for them to do, a fierce contest took place each day,
resulting in a certain number being successful and in the rest
being sent unemployed away, hoping, however, for better luck
next day. Consequently the whole mass was kept in a chronic
state of discontent, and with inadequate means of support. The
new system, while leaving a certain number without even the
hope of employment, and thus necessitating their seeking other
fields of labor, will place the rest upon a footing of permanency
with definite wages, whether there -is work or not, a pension, and
sick- pay.

To an outsider this seems a satisfactory proposal. In fact it
was accepted by the heads of the union immediately concerned,
although not without reluctance. The men, however, on account
of the small diminution of wages and increase of hours pro-
posed, but chiefly from distrust of the good faith of their em-
ployers, took a different view of the matter. They accordingly
went out on strike. The leaders then fell into line with the
men. Some of the allied unions struck in support of the union
directly affected, and things began to look very serious. The
employers, however, stood firm, and in the end proved success-
ful. This doubtless was due to the fact that the cause of the
strikers was not so good as to justify extreme measures. The
vast federation of the men, which at first sight seems to promise
war and conflict, may result in the contrary ; for before so large
a body can be induced to act, ample cause and full deliberation
will be necessary. In France the union- of railway workers has
taken away from the leaders of the union the power of de-
claring a strike, and has rendered it necessary to secure a two-

440 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Dec.,

thirds majority for such a step. This would seem to be a good
method of preventing the adoption of rash and futile measures.
It is time something was done. Both sides agree in the condem-
nation of strikes, boards of conciliation have been formed, arbi-
tration is constantly recommended ; yet, while there has been no
strike of great magnitude, their number has of late increased.
But while there is cause for anxiety, and for fear that extreme
measures will for some time be the remedies most readily adopt-
ed, there is still room for hope that more reasonable courses will
ultimately prevail. For example, the London carpenters, after a
strike of some seven months' duration, have in the end submitted
their claims to arbitration ; but not before their trade has suffered
an injury which persons qualified to judge regard as irremediable.

Australia is said to be the place in which the position of the
working-men is all that can be desired. Their wages are high,
their hours of work are short, the eight-hour day has been vol-
untarily adopted for many years, there is no aristocracy and no
pauper class, there being work sufficient for all who are willing
to work. Moreover, in the Parliament of New South Wales, out
of a house of 135 members no fewer than 31 belong to the
Labor party, and this enables them to dominate the situation.
They have proved their power within the last few weeks by
overthrowing the ministry of perhaps the most influential states-
man of the whole country, Sir Henry Parkes. But notwith-
standing these advantages Australian working-men are not satis-
fied, as is proved by the struggles of which those colonies have
been the scene during the last two years. Their opponents
accuse them of not being willing to be placed upon an equality
with the capitalist, but of demanding complete and absolute con-
trol ; and there is no doubt that the members of the trade
unions have declared war upon all who are unwilling to join
those unions. The destruction of non-unionist labor was the ob-
ject of the recent strikes ; these having failed, the contest has
been transferred to Parliament.

The result of the action of the Labor party in New South
Wales is left for the future to disclose. In New Zealand, where
the party is even more powerful in Parliament, numbering one-
third of the members, -we have before our eyes some of its
achievements. A Land Taxation Bill has recently become law
which places two taxes upon land : an ordinary tax fixed an-

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 441

nually on all landed property above the value of 500, and
a progressive tax on land values where these values -exceed
5,000. This additional tax begins with l /%d. per pound on all
properties valued at 5,000 up to 10,000, and continues to
increase pro rata until at the value of 210,000 it reaches \^d.
on the pound. This is for resident land-owners ; absentee owners
have to pay an increase of twenty per cent., and measures have
been devised to prevent absentee investors from escaping. It
will be interesting to watch the effect upon the colony's prosperi-
ty of this measure, as well as of the graduated income-tax, and
the strict protective tariff, which form the rest of the measures
adopted by working-men in New Zealand.

The United Kingdom Alliance, which is the most active and
influential temperance organization in Great Britain, so far at all
events as politics are concerned, at its annual meeting, held in
Manchester lately, received the formal ratification of that support
which was promised by the Liberal party at the Newcastle meeting.
Mr. John.Morley, a member of the last Liberal cabinet, presided,
and intimated that his party accepted the principle that the
people of each locality should have the unrestricted right by
direct vote to determine the numbers or existence of public-
houses within the borders of such locality. The report of the
Alliance naturally congratulates its supporters on the victories of
the temperance movement t. which we have already called our
readers' attention in previous notes, and mentions in addition
that out of 84 contested elections held since 1886, 47 of the
successful candidates were pledged to the veto. This movement
is deriving support even from its enemies. Dr. Mortimer Gran-
ville, the physician to whom we referred in our last as having
felt himself called upon to oppose its further progress, and who
maintains that every one ought to take a certain quantity (not
more than two ounces) of absolute alcohol per day, when asked
how this recommendation is to be carried into effect, confesses
that it is almost impossible to give a definite practical answer.
And why? "Because," he says "I do not believe there is one
thoroughly outspoken and honest I mean perfectly candid-
dealer in the whole liquor-trade. ... I am not acquainted
with a single member of the trade to whose statement of sup-
posed fact, as regards the real nature of the liquor supplied by
him, I would attach real authority. The majority of dealers in
liquors know nothing whatsoever about the article in which they
deal, and are therefore dependent on the manufacturers whose

442 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Dec.,

products they vend ; while the minority who do know something
will not make the facts public. . . . There is so much adul-
teration, so much ' fortifying ' and ' liquoring/ and so much poi-
soning of drinks, that were it not that I hold alcohol to be in-
dispensable, I should say take none of the vile liquors with
which the population of this country is systematically drugged
until the trade is either self-regenerated or placed under strict
control." Many will, if this is a true description of the kind of
liquor provided for their consumption, think it a wiser course to
have none of it. Moreover Dr. Granville forbids, except in very
exceptional cases, every kind of spirits whisky, gin, brandy, rum,
etc. This he does because distilled alcohol is something non-
natural, and, however diluted, an irritant. Such declarations as
these, coming as they do from an opponent, cannot but contri-
bute to the progress of true temperance.

In general European politics perhaps the most important
event is a comparatively inconspicuous one. The little kingdom
of Roumania affords a bulwark between Russia and the goal of
her ambition, Constantinople. The Roumanian army, it will be
remembered, really prevented the rout and defeat of the Rus-
sians in the last war with Turkey. Forts have recently been
erected along the frontier bordering upon Russia, and should
Roumania throw in her lot with the Triple Alliance and gar-
rison these forts with her army, Supported by the troops of
Austria, an unsurmountable barrier would be offered to Rus-
sian aggression. Although we cannot speak with complete cer-
tainty, this event seems to have taken place, and if so, one of
the greatest safeguards for the peace of Europe has been secur-
ed. But notwithstanding the fact that peace is on the lips of
all the statesmen of European countries, preparations for war
are being continually made. In Germany an experiment is being
entered upon to test the feasibility of forming her soldiers in
two years instead of three ; in France by a system of " mixing "
the active regiments with the territorial reserve, a similar advan-
tage is hoped for. The Austrian Parliament is being called
upon for increased military credits. Russia is working night and
day to arm her troops with a new rifle ; and Belgium, ridiculous
to say, has built such enormous forts that she will have to
double her army to garrison them. On the other hand, an
Inter-Parliamentary Peace Congress has been held in Rome, but
as every specific subject was excluded from its deliberations, it
will not result in anything very practical. The incident of the

1891.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 443

pilgrimages to Rome showed how strong is the feeling in France
against Italy, for even the Radical and Communist papers joined
with Catholics in resenting the insults offered to the pilgrims.
Things remain in statu quo in France, although a recent vote
has shown that the present cabinet depends for its maintenance
of power upon the votes of those whom it pleases newspaper
writers to call " Reactionaries." If the republicans would treat
with greater fairness those who give in their adhesion to the
Republic it would have, perhaps, fewer of these opponents. In a
recent contest in which one of these converts to republicanism
sought election, he was opposed by moderate republicans simply
on the ground that he had been hitherto an opponent of the
Republic. Such action as this and the prosecution of the Arch-
bishop of Aix make the much-to-be-desired adhesion of all parties
to one form of government exceedingly difficult.

Both in France and Germany legislative and executive action
is being taken against moral and social vices ; in France against
gambling, obscene pictures, and the social vice under its ordinary
forms ; in Germany, against the same vice under a form of
almost incredible turpitude. Russia is still active in carrying out
the deliberate object of Russianizing every nationality existing
within her borders ; but meanwhile her own people are suffering
untold horrors of starvation and want, horrors which show the
impotence of a tyrannous and despotic form of government to
secure for its subjects even the bare means of subsistence.

444 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

CANON FARRAR disclaims the title of novel for his " Historic
Tale,"* on the ground that its outlines were peremptorily de-
cided for him by the exigencies of fact, and not by the rules of
art. Nevertheless, the most exacting novel-reader will scarcely
find it deficient in sustained action, absorbing interest, abundant
incident, and vivid presentation of its characters. In our judg-
ment it takes an easy first among the historic fictions dealing
in any wise with Scriptural personages which have appeared
within a decade. It is the fourth or fifth tale numbering Nero,
Agrippina, Octavia, Acte, Poppaea, Otho, Tigellinus, and Seneca
among its dramatis persona which has been laid on our table
within as many years. But, familiar as they all are, and certain
to follow a prescribed route in order to arrive at a definitely
fixed end, they have been clothed with new interest by Canon
Farrar, and live in his scholarly and eloquent pages with a dis-
tinct life borrowed from the full stream of his own. The time
selected, including the end of the reign of Claudius and the
whole of that of Nero, coincides very nearly with the begin-
nings of what the Abb Le Camus would call the Period of
the Church's Conquest. The scenes are laid almost exclusively
in Rome. The Christian community is presided over by Linus,
and St. Peter's whereabouts is left uncertain until he comes,
summoned by the news of the first great persecution, to be cru-
cified head downwards near the obelisk in the Circus on the
Mons Vaticanus. It is, however, by no means Canon Farrar's
intention to fly in the face of the tradition which assigns to
Peter the primacy in the See of Rome as well as the universally
admitted primacy in the Apostolate. If other proof of this as-
sertion were lacking, as it is not, sufficient would be found in
the following extract from his final chapter, p. 581, where, after
speaking of the intermittent persecutions of the first three cen-
turies, he says :

" When Linus died, Cletus succeeded him as the third ' Pope '
of Rome although that title was not given to the humble pres-
byter-bishops of the struggling community for more than two
centuries, and not formally adopted by them until A.D. 400.

* Darkness and Dawn, or Scenes in the Days of Nero. By Frederic W. Farrar, D,D. t
F.R.S. New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 445

Cletus was succeeded by Clement. Of the first thirty Popes it
is said by Christian tradition that all but two were martyrs.
The blood of those martyrs was the seed of the Church. That
Church had been consumed to ashes, and, rising from her ashes,
soared heavenward, first waveringly, then steadily, at last with
supreme dominion, ' reflecting the sunlight from every glancing
plume.' "

Canon Farrar's intention seems, rather, to have been like
that of Le Camus, whose admirable volume on the Work of the
Apostles is worthy of the most serious study, when he says : //
ne faut pas confondre I'apostolat et episcopat. It would be inexact
to suppose, adds the same authority, that St. Peter remained
stationary for a long time at Jerusalem, at Antioch, or at
Rome. St. Chrysostom had said already, " He was not made
Bishop of Jerusalem because Jesus Christ had made him Bishop
of the whole world." He founded the Church at Rome, as the
consentient testimony of all antiquity proves, but " la question
du tres long episcopat de Pierre a Rome ninteresse en aucun fa^on
le dogme chre'tien"

Another departure from ancient tradition whose grounds ap-
pear less evident is that of separating the martyrdom of St. Paul
from that of St. Peter by an interval of a year or more, while
bringing together the crucifixion of the Chief of the Apostles
and the Confession of St. John, which is more commonly sup-
posed to have taken place under Domitian. As far as the story
has a plot, it centres around the figure of Onesimus, the run-
away slave, whose conversion and return to his master was the
occasion of St. Paul's Epistle to Philemon. And, as a story, its
interest never flags, so that we commend it alike to those who
seek only entertainment in fiction, and to those whose hearts
burn at every fresh vindication of Canon Farrar's thesis, that
Christianity conquered the world " with the two sacred and in-
vincible weapons of martyrdom and of innocence," and that

" Intellectually, socially, politically, in national life and in in-
dividual life, in art and in literature, Christianity has inspired all
that the world has seen of best and noblest, and still offers to
the soul of every man the purest hope, the divinest comfort, the
loftiest aspirations."

A certain number of the late M. Edmond Scherer's studies * in
English literature have been admirably translated by Mr. George
Saintsbury, and will be found to contain much suggestive and

* Essays in English Literature. By Edmond Scherer. Translated by George Saintsbury.
New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

446 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

enlightening criticism. M. Scherer was only half a Frenchman,
either by birth or training, his mother having been an English-
woman, and his education, from sixteen to twenty, having been
conducted in her native land by a (presumably dissenting) Eng-
lish clergyman. Having gone thither, says Mr. Saintsbury, "as
became a school-boy of sixteen in 1831, inclined to Deism, self-
destruction, and general despair," this clergyman exerted over
him an influence which lasted nearly half his entire life, and
made him, up to his forty-fifth year, a preacher of "a sort of
orthodox Protestantism not admitting any ecclesiastical tradition,
but solely founded on the Bible." The result, adds his biogra-
pher, when treating of the causes which made criticism some-
thing of a pis aller to Scherer,

"was what it was . . . certain to be in the case of a rest-
less and inquiring spirit, impatient of compromise, rejecting ab
initio the idea of the Church as the supernaturally appointed de-
pository of supernatural truth, and, indeed, insisting generally
that the supernatural shall allow itself to be treated as if it were
not supernatural."

Scherer's theology, that is to say, became gradually less and
less orthodox, and was finally thrown overboard altogether, to
make room for a sort of modified Hegelianism. He turned to
politics dying a Life-Senator of the French Republic in 1889
and to literature. He was profoundly versed in the latter only
from the seventeenth century onward, but his knowledge of
English and German, and his intellectual and moral kinship with
what produced the literature of those tongues, gave him an ad-
vantage rare among French critics. Truth to tell, he was never
over-popular in France, even though his verdict was always con-
sidered to carry weight. His habit of judging books, "not with
his intelligence but with his character," as M. Edouard Rod
has described it, and what another Frenchman of letters has
spoken of as his " Protestant gall," stood in the way of a wide
diffusion of what Mr. Saintsbury qualifies as

"the most valuable corpus of criticism which France has pro-
duced since Sainte-Beuve's Causeries, and superior, if bulk,
range, and value be taken together, to anything to be found in
English literature for many years past."

The essays chosen for translation are twelve in number.
Three are devoted to George Eliot. The first of these, written
in 1861, is full of what in later days M. Scherer, like the rest of
the world, seems to have recognized as too indiscriminate adu-

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 447

lation. The precision of M. Rod's just-quoted appreciation be-
comes evident in the nature of the attraction George Eliot
exerted over her French critic. The religious crisis she had
passed through was so like his own that it made a sympathetic
bond between them. However, his intelligence emancipated itself
enough to let him judge Daniel Deronda fairly, and to make in
his final paper, written after the publication of Mr. Cross's biogra-
phy, a more deliberate estimate of her work and power. Of the
other essays, two relate to Shakspere, and the others respectively
to John Stuart Mill, Taine's History of English Literature, Mil-
ton, Sterne, Wordsworth, Carlyle, and Lord Beaconsfield's En-
dymion. Every one of them shows discrimination and exact
knowledge.

Colonel Johnston's title-page describes the eight essays which
follow it as " Studies " ; * his preface speaks of them more truly
as mere " running observations upon several subjects of literary
and social interest." They differ much in quality. The papers
on " Pre-American Philosophy" and on " American Philosophy"
as embodied in Benjamin Franklin are very instructive and enter-
taining reading. It is as a story-teller that their author excels,
however. The essayist's path, though perhaps not so full of
actual difficulties, is yet one far more strait to walk in.

Doubtless it is hardly fair to pass judgment on a " Lover's
Year-book of Poetry," f only one of whose two volumes has yet
appeared. Yet one may say at once that it would be a moral
impossibility for any person of sensibility and sufficient literary
taste to be chosen for such a work, to select one hundred and
eighty odd specimens from the vast treasure-house of English
verse and not include many excellent and admirable poems.
One must add, however, that none but such need have been
chosen, so much is there to choose from. For our part, if the
present instalment is a specimen of his capabilities, we should
not incline to appoint Mr. Chandler as our taster-in-ordinary, if
only because his one specimen from the most singularly sugges-
tive and delicate of modern love-poets, Mr. Coventry Patmore,
proves so unsuggestive of his best manner and his peculiar thought.
One would gladly exchange some of the many anonymities, the
author of " My King " and " My Queen " for example, as well
as Mr. W. D. Howells and Mrs. Herbert Ward, against a Por-

* Studies : Literary and Social. By Richard Malcolm Johnston. Indianapolis: The
Bowen-Merrill Co.

t The Lover's Year-book of Poetry. January to June. By Horace Parker Chandler.
Boston : Roberts Brothers.
VOL. LIV. 29

44 8 TALK ABOUJ^ NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

tuguese sonnet or two from Mrs. Browning, or even one of the
thousand fine praises of love to be found in Sir Edwin Arnold's
" With Sa'di in the Garden." Perhaps Mr. Chandler means to
brighten the year from July to December with these and others
more akin to them than many of the selections already given.

It would be far from true to say that there are no fine,
strange verses in the second series* of Emily Dickinson's poems.
And yet her friends were certainly wise in their generation when
they set forth the best wine from her long-closed cellars first,
and whetted the reader's palate with its half-bitter sweetness and
faint, unique bouquet. In this new volume the shocks of keen
pleasure come less often, and lines that cling to the memory,
and pictures that seize and pre-empt some hitherto unsettled cor-
ner in the brain, are indefinitely fewer. Still, one comes now
and again upon a characteristic blending of sentiment and land-
scape, some rendering of the inner woman in the largest terms
of outward nature, which would identify itself, unnamed, in any
collection of poems. This, for example, which is called "The
Sun's Wooing":

" The sun just touched the morning ;

The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.

" She felt herself supremer

A raised, ethereal thing ;
Henceforth for her what holiday!

Meantime her wheeling King
Trailed slow along the orchards

His haughty, spangled hems,
Leaving a new necessity

The want of diadems !

" The morning fluttered, staggered,

Felt feebly for her crown
Her unanointed forehead
Henceforth her only one."

The last translationf made from Sefiora Pardo Bazan's novels
is not of a kind to deepen admiration for their author. The
coarseness that thrust its ugly face through the veneer of an oc-
casional page in " A Christian Woman " and " The Wedding
Trip," and apologized for its presence as an indispensable bit of
local realism, is here the fund and basis of the whole. The book

* Poems. By Emily Dickinson. Second Series. Boston : Roberts Brothers.

t The Swan of Vilamorta. By Emilia Pardo Bazan. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 449

is such a one as no honest and modest woman has any valid ex-
cuse for writing.

It would be difficult to praise Miss Katharine Tynan's sketch*
of Mother Mary Xaveria Fallon too highly. All that charm of
style and poetic feeling which long ago converted all her readers
into admiring friends have here been devoted to an altogether
attractive subject. It must be a pleasant surprise to those to
whom Mary Ward has long been something more than a name,
to find this study of one of her latest spiritual daughters pre-
fixed by an outline of that valiant woman. We find the twenty-
four pages devoted to Mary Ward a real marvel of condensation,
giving a bird's-eye view of a great and long career so clearly
and succinctly that none of its salient features fails to make its
own impression, while yet the whole suggests a mass of interior
detail which provokes to a new study of the original.

Mother Xaveria Fallon, to whom the bulk of the little vol-
ume is devoted, was indeed a beautiful and saintly soul ; one of
those whom we who are on the outside must suppose to be re-
markable for a specially attractive kind of holiness even where
all are holy. Nature and the supernatural seem to go hand-in-
hand with her. One feels sure that had she lived in the world,
granting, of course, that she found her vocation there, she would
have been equally eminent among her peers. She was wise as
well as holy, and it was largely her work that her order, the
Institute of the Blessed Virgin, more widely known as the
Loretto nuns, has not only broken through the old traditions of
female education, but in Ireland has shown extraordinary effi-
ciency in teaching, and kept well in line with the lay schools
and colleges in carrying off the honors of competitive examina-
tions. Through her an entirely new system of training the nuns
for their work as teachers was adopted ; she brought in lay
teachers for special subjects, and not only had them instructed
in such subjects, but instituted written and oral examinations of
a very complete kind, and in many ways showed her thorough
comprehension of the fact that " with the advance of education
among women, the convent schools would be put on their mettle,
and that the old-fashioned systems would no longer do." Here-
in she proved her true filiation from Mary Ward, that most
heroic of innovators, not born before her time, indeed, for the
time of the pioneer is when the wilderness is yet untraversed,
the ways thorny, and the stars the only guides, but yet born

* A Nun, her Friends and her Order. Being a Sketch of the Life of Mother Mary Xaveria
Fallon. By Katharine Tynan. London : Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co.

45 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

too soon to see any wide result from her apparently unwelcome
labors. However, it is not on this aspect of Mother Xaveria
that Miss Tynan lingers longest, but, as was natural, on those
features of her daily life among her community which so en-
deared her to them all. The story is a charming one in itself,
and is most delightfully told.

Mr. Schurz's essay,* reprinted from the Atlantic Monthly, is
a most effective tribute to him who, if not the greatest of
American public men, is at all events the most beloved. As Mr.
Schurz points out, he has already become a half-mythical figure
to the rising generation, and grows constantly to more heroic
proportions while losing in distinctness of outline. In this little
volume he can be studied in sufficient detail, but it is impossible
that the heroic outline shall be lost amidst them. If the world
goes on long enough, and follows in its ancient track, he will
some day be surrounded by a legendary halo like that of a
Wallace or a Tell. All that is known about him ; his childhood
of bitter poverty and ignorance too dense to be broken through
except by the keenness of a longing like that of a seed hidden in
the earth and seeking instinctively for light ; his youth of strug-
gle ; his romantic emotional experiences which left him a lonely
man for life, though seated by his own hearthstone ; the tender-
heartedness which made him dismount from his buggy and
wade knee-deep in mire to rescue a pig fighting for life in a
swamp ; the undying hatred of slavery kindled when he first wit-
nessed a slave auction, and culminating in the Emancipation
Proclamation which wrote his name in history as the liberator
of a race ; the unsoldier-like but magnificent bravery which led
him, when captain of a volunteer company in the Black Hawk
War, to protect an old savage at the risk of his own life and
against his own men ; the unlawyerlike but adorable honesty and
moral courage which, when presenting his very first case in the
United States Court, the only question being one of authority,
made him declare that on careful examination he found all the
authorities on the other side, and none on his ; which compelled
him to refuse to act as the attorney of even personal friends
when he saw the right on the other side and to abandon cases
during trial if the testimony convinced him his client was in the
wrong ; the personal humility which formed the solid base of his
unflinching use of official authority ; all are full of the very
essence and stuff of legend. And then his eloquence, unlike that

* Abraham Lincoln. An Essay. By Carl Schurz. Boston and New York : Houghton,
Mifflin & Co.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 451

of any other man, the summing up and sublimation of every
mark experience had made upon his heart and brain, and which
causes the Gettysburgh speech and the second inaugural to
read in their most significant passages like the inspiration of a
poet or a seer. Mr. Schurz has done his work well. His essay
is almost worthy of its subject.

The coming of the Christmas holidays is foreshadowed by
the advent of some children's books * for the season if anything
so bright and cheerful as Tom Tucker and Little Bo-Peep can be
said to cast a shadow. The verses and the illustrations are alike
delightful. Georgina M. Synge tells two very pretty stories, f
very nicely matched by Gordon Browne's pictures. Mrs. Cheno-
weth's stories \ of Saints George, David, Christopher, and Denis
are rather too much like fairy tales to be suitable reading for
Catholic ' children. The latter half of her book, containing
sketches of St. Catherine of Alexandria, some of the hermits of
the Thebaio^ St. Francis of Assisi, St. Elizabeth of Hungary,
and St. Patrick, is much more commendable.

The average boy of from twelve to fifteen will probably find
Tad^ amusing, and possibly edifying. Mr. Ellis gives a very
graphic description of a cyclone and its ravages, and seems to
be an authority on baseball and spelling-matches. The moral
tone of his story is entirely commendable, and it is told in an
easy, colloquial style.

The indefatigable author of the " Elsie Books " is out with
another. || Like its predecessors, it is a mixture of more or less
useful and reliable information and kisses. This time the Ame-
rican Revolution supplies the solid groundwork and mainstay
which supports the avalanche of embraces, chiefly filial and
paternal, and the ocean of " goody-goody " conversation that
would otherwise wash the tale away.

Lanoe Falconer's third book 1" revives and intensifies the im-
pression of original power and something uncommonly like
genius which was produced by Mademoiselle Ixe. Both the
plan and the treatment of the new tale are strikingly clever. It
is a ghost story, to begin with. The country-house in which the

* Tom Tucker and Little Bo-Peep, By Thomas Hood. Illustrated by Alice Wheaton
Adams. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

t Great Grandmamma, and Elsie. By Georgina M. Synge. New York : Cassell Publish-
ing Co.

\ Stories of the Saints. By Mrs. C. Van D. Chenoweth. Boston and New York : Hough-
ton, Mifflin & Co.

Tad; or, " Getting Even with Him." By E. S. Ellis. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

J Elsie's Vacation and After Events. By Martha Finley. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co.

If Cecilia de Noel. By Lanoe Falconer. London and New York : Macmillan & Co.

45 2 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

scene is laid is haunted and has been so for centuries. " The
ghost," says the kindly atheist who owns the place, and whose
materialistic views of all the universe contains forms " Ather-
ley's Gospel," " is older than the family. We found it here when
we came into the place about two hundred years ago, and it
refused to be dislodged." Atherley has but recently taken up
his residence with the ghost ; he never sees it, neither does his
wife, one of those amiable, dull, virtuous, and deadly common-
place English ladies who for obvious reasons occur more fre-
quently outside of novels than in them. In this case. Lady
Atherley makes an admirable foil, and is managed in a way that
Miss Austen could not have bettered. Neither does Lyndsay,
the crippled guest who tells the story, ever see it. His role is
to hear the tales of those who do, and narrate their experiences
and their general views of this life, and any possible other life,
in a series of seven chapters denominated " Gospels." Atherley's
is the Gospel of materialism. The " Stranger's^ Gospel " is
preached by a young doctor who comes to cure the hysterics of
the kitchen-maid after her sight of the uncanny visitant. It is
pessimism. All is bad and most things painful, but neverthe-
less "there is one thing worth living for to help to make it all
a little more bearable for the others." Mrs. Mostyn, who once
saw the ghost's face, and describes it as that of a lost soul, was
converted by it from worldliness to some sort of narrow Evan-
gelicalism which holds that eternal misery " is what will happen
to the greatest number"; to which " Gospel " she tries to -con-
vert Lyndsay also. But he recoils before " the spectre that
drives men to madness or despair illimitable, omnipotent
Malice." Canon Vernade, a high church dignitary, who comes
down to spend Sunday with Atherley, preaches eloquently
against the worship of worldly pre-eminence and riches, and
then talks unconsciously more eloquently still in their praise
when he has laid aside his gown and bands. He also sees, or
feels, the ghost, and is reduced to abject terror and the abyss
of despairing doubt. Austin the Ritualist sees the " lost soul,"
and holds it at bay for an hour or more by prayer. To him
it preaches " the utter insignificance of what we name existence,
. . . and the element of our true being with its eternal possi-
bilities of misery or joy." God, " the Sovereign, Lawgiver, Judge,"
is the Gospel which that terrible face, with its revelation of " evil
and its punishment " confirms to him. The theosophists' Gospel
follows after an entertaining account by Mrs. Molyneux of the
advantages possessed by her new religion in the great fact " that

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 453

it has nothing to do with God." She sees the ghost too, and
although she does not retreat before it, she cannot be comforted
until Cecilia de Noel comes to spend the night in the haunted
chamber with her. Cecilia, the loving, the compassionate, to
whom all life appeals for such help and pity as she can give,
sees the ghost too, and lays it. What strikes her as sad and
strange in the stories told by all to whom it has appeared, is
that

" Not one of those who saw it had had one pitying thought
for it. And what, I thought, if this poor spirit had come by
any chance to ask for something ; if it were in pain and longed
for relief, or sinful and longed for forgiveness. How dreadful
then that other beings should turn from it instead of going to
meet and comfort it so dreadful that I almost wished that I
might see it, and have the strength to speak to it ! And it
came into my head that this might happen, for often and often
when I have been very anxious to serve some one, the wish has
been granted in a quite wonderful way. So when 1 said my
prayers, I asked especially that if it should appear to me, I
might have strength to forget all selfish fear and try only to
know what it wanted."

Cecilia's Gospel is a very beautiful one. It is good to have
it preached in a form so attractive as is here given it.

I. THE BEGINNINGS OF CHRISTIANITY.*

What ' strikes us very favorably in this work is the open-
mindedness of the author, as well as his scholarship, and his
capability of arousing the sense of devotion. The great facts of
the establishment of our religion are narrated in the light of the
best modern research and with a vividness due to personal know-
ledge of the places described. The author's faith, too robust
to fear either criticism or investigation, communicates itself to
the reader. The style is unusually pleasant, being direct, uncon-
strained, and flowing. Having read the book carefully through out
of curiosity and the attraction of its great topics, we were constrain-
ed to re-read it with equal attention for purposes of devotion.

The work, as one of its titles indicates, treats of the disciples
of Christ breaking away from the Jews and Judaism a period of
essential importance to Christianity and one not fully enough
understood. St. Stephen's pioneer inspiration and mission, St.
Philip the Deacon's message to the Gentiles, St. Peter's great

*L'CEiuvre des Apdtres. Par 1'Abbe E. Le Camus, Vicaire-General Honoraire de Chambry.
Fondation de 1'Eglise chretienne. Periode d'Affranchissement. Paris : Letouzey et Ane.

454 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

vision at Joppa, and especially the call of Saul of Tarsus and
the scope of his apostolate as well as its relation to that of the
twelve, are narrated and explained with the utmost simplicity,
unity of grouping, and at the same time fulness of detail. The
foot-notes plentifully scattered through the book not only assist
the learned reader with references, but are full of suggestion and
interest to all.

The author's treatment of the pretence of some writers that
St. Peter and St. Paul headed opposing factions is luminous and
wholly conclusive. But the devotional stimulus in the work is
its main characteristic, to us at least ; though to puzzled Chris-
tians it would seem its noble and beneficial purpose of totally
expelling doubt on the historical points raised by adverse criti-
cism.

Fouard has been translated and extensively sold ; so should
be Le Camus, both in his Life of Christ and in this work, its
sequel.

2. A TERCENTENARY COMMEMORATION.*

No commemoration of a saint could be more fitting and
profitable than a faithful picture of his life ; and so much the
more fitting, profitable, and faithful will it be if drawn by the
hand of a contemporary, an ocular witness of most of the facts
he delineates.

The author of this biography of St. Aloysius was his fellow-
student and lived with him for several years, and was honored
with his entire confidence, and what Cepari himself had not seen
and heard he learned from the lips of those who had witnessed
all that he narrates. Besides, he visited every place, except
those in Spain, where the saint had stayed any length of time,
and took down on the spot the most exact information.

The style of the writer is singularly simple and clear. He
leaves the facts to speak for themselves. Cepari was a man of
great spirituality, profoundly acquainted with the unusual paths
along which God is pleased to conduct his saints he was the
confessor and director of St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi there-
fore there is no want of clearness in his treatment of the man-
ner in which Aloysius was led by the interior workings of the
Holy Spirit.

It would be difficult to give more praise than is due to the
publishers for their part in the getting out of this tercentenary

* Life of St. Aloysius Gonzaga. By Virgil Cepari, S.J. New York, Cincinnati, and Chi-
cago : Benziger Bros.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 455

volume. The binding is rich, chaste, and durable. The illustra-
tions with which the book teems are exceptionally good, many
of them reproductions of the greatest painters of the Italian and
Spanish schools. Though not an expensive book, it is all it
claims to be, a veritable edition de luxe.

3. THE SPIRITUAL LIFE.*

This is a new edition of an excellent spiritual book written
about two hundred years ago, and probably but little known to
modern readers. It is arranged on a much more scientific plan
than is usual in works of this kind, being almost in the form of
a text-book ; and contains a great amount in a small space, each
point being very clearly and concisely treated. It is eminently
practical, either for the personal use of the reader or for the
direction of others; and on account of its arrangement, clear
and careful statement, and numerous points capable of great de-
velopment, would be found, if we are not mistaken, very useful
to preachers in sermons and conferences. It is a book very
well worth any one's money, though at present, of course, specially
useful to the clergy ; and it certainly seems to be one which
should be translated into the vernacular.

4. CATHOLIC YEAR-BOOKS.f

Both of these Catholic year-books are, as usual, exceedingly
meritorious, not only in the excellence and amount of reading
they offer for a very small sum of money, but in the illustrations
that occur on almost their every page. Both the Annual and
the Home Almanac give much space to the great Catholic who
discovered our country, and to whom honor will be done during
the coming year of 1892. The Annual appears in a new and
handsome cover with the arms of Columbus in colors. It opens
with an appreciative but too-meagre sketch with portrait of the
late George V. Hecker, so long identified with the Catholic Pub-
lication Society, and to whose character as a Catholic, a philan-
thropist, and a business man Rev. Walter Elliott pays high tribute
in his Life of Father Hecker. A brilliant article on Columbus

*Cursus Vita Spirituals. Auctore R. P. D. Carolo Joseph Morotio, Congregationis S.
Bernard! Ordinis Cisterciensis Monacho, Theologo et Concionatore. Editio Nova a Sacer-
dote Congr. SS. Redemptoris adornata. Ratisbonae : Pustet.

t The Illustrated Catholic Family Annual, 1892. New York : The Catholic Publication
Society Co. The Catholic Home Almanac, 1892. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger
Brothers.

456 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

from the pen of Mr. John A. Mooney, fittingly illustrated by
engravings from original designs made by a well-known sculptor,
is followed by a number of interesting articles notably the
sketches of Mrs. Craven and Ludwig Windthorst and several
fine portraits.

5. SCRIPTURAL RESEARCHES.*

The author of this book appears for the first time on the
scene of Scriptural researches. Not only has he aimed high, a
feature not uncommon among young authors, but he has carried
out pretty successfully his bold enterprise, and for this we may
give him credit.

Our readers know that Biblical scholars base all their text-
ual investigations on the Masoretic text, of which the most
recent and best edition is due to S. Baer. Now, this text does
not always satisfy our modern critics, some of whom deal very
freely indeed with the work of the Masorah. Though Dr. Eu-
ringer does not side altogether with the latter, he thinks that
many a hypercritical scholar exceeds all bounds ; and it is with
a view towards putting an end to such abuses that he has un-
dertaken to investigate what changes in the Masoretic texts are
in conformity with the rules of a sound and thorough scientific
criticism.

The work of Dr. Euringer consists of two parts, an introduc-
tory part and the bulk of the work itself. In the introductory
part the young author exposes the method he will follow to
check the Masoretic readings. It is very good indeed. All that
he says there about the choice of the rabbinical works anterior
to the establishment of the text by the Masorites, and of the
editions of the Greek, Coptic, Syriac, and Hieronymian versions,
before they had begun to be altered, is certainly very clearly
and neatly said, and shows a great deal of prudence and tact.
The second part, the most important, contains the textual study
of every single passage of the Koheleth that looks suspicious.
The result of this patient investigation is by no means to be
despised ; over thirty corrections are proposed as certain. Time
and space do not allow us to study here even a few of these
cases, yet we think it no rash judgment to say that they must
be a very valuable contribution to the textual criticism of the
Koheleth ; and even, indirectly at least, of the whole Masoretic

* Der Masorahtext des Koheleth-kritisch untertucht von Sebastian Euringer , priester
der Diocese Augsburg. Leipzig.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 457

work. For we sincerely hope that other scholars will strike into
the path opened by Dr. Euringer, and do for the other books of
the Bible what he has done for the Koheleth.

At the close of his book Dr. Euringer gives us a list of the
three hundred quotations from the Koheleth he has found in the
rabbinical works before the seventh century. This patient and
conscientious labor would be, by itself, enough to entitle the au-
thor to our admiration.

And now, to conclude, we cannot help making one criticism.
The chapter about the so-called Bickell Hypothesis is a mere di-
gression, since the author does not take any account of it in his
investigations. The author had best not have inserted it in
the course of his work between the introductory part and the
chief part. It breaks all the harmony of the book and, above
all, gives dissatisfaction to the reader, who feels badly disap-
pointed when all of a sudden Dr. Euringer declares that he does
not intend to confute by the facts the theory of the learned
professor of Innspriick. And yet this was not unnecessary, for
we must say that the arguments by which the author tries to
show that his adversary's hypothesis is contrary to dogma, and
to probability, do not seem to us sufficient to prove his asser-
tion ; and this opinion is supported by the authority of some
very competent scholars who have examined carefully the work
of Dr. Euringer.

6. DIDON'S LIFE OF CHRIST.*

If any life of our Divine Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ can
be satisfactory to the Christian world at large this one certainly
ought to be, for it is the latest and greatest effort of the pen of
man to portray the life and character of the Incarnate Son of
God. But no life of Christ can be altogether satisfactory, for no
human pen can possibly portray the divine character of Jesus
Christ ; the inspired penmen of the Gospels have alone been able
to do that. Short of this, Pere Didon has, in our opinion, attained
the highest measure of success in his great work, and he will im-
mediately take his place in the very front rank of the biographers of
the Saviour of Mankind. The sensation created by this work in
France, where so many admirable lives of Christ have been

* Jesus Christ : Our Saviour's Person, Mission, and Spirit. From the French of the
Rev. Father Didon, O.P. Introduction by His Eminence James Cardinal Gibbons. Two
Tolumes, illustrated. New York : D. Appleton & Co.

458 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

written in recent years, is the best evidence of its conspicuous
excellence. And when it becomes generally known in its Eng-
lish dress we look for a like appreciation of the book in this
country.

We shall not now attempt any analysis of this voluminous
work, as we hope to give it an extended notice in a future issue;
but we feel that no time should be lost in bringing it to the no-
tice of the public, and in thanking the publishers for their splen-
did enterprise and the noble service they have rendered to the
cause of Christianity by bringing out such a grand edition of this
truly great work.

7. LADY JANE.*

Louisiana is not so far behind the other Southern States in
the quantity and quality of the literature she produces as is some-
times supposed. She has given us, among many others, Gayarre',
Lafcadio Hearn, Grace King, Cable, Mrs., Marion Baker, Audu-
bon, and Constant Beauvais ; and now she has given to us one
of the most charming books ever written for youth, a story that
is among the very, very few that are as interesting to readers
beyond their teens as to those of fewer years.

Mrs. Jamison has been rather unfortunate in the title she
has selected for her story. It is a title apt to bring up thoughts
of Little Lord Fauntleroy, a story vastly inferior to Lady Jane
in plot, delineation of character, local color, and interest.
Fauntleroy is sentimental, theatrical, impossible. In the drama-
tized story a little girl is found best suited for the part of Faunt-
leroy. In the story Fauntleroy is a little girl in boy's clothes.

Lady Jane, though not the best-drawn character in the book
to which she gives the title-, is not sentimental, is quite possible
and lovable. She is good, but she does not spout Scripture ; nor
does she meditate on her own excellence, 'and lament the deprav-
ity of others, albeit she has reason to do the last for a number
of persons with whom she is obliged to associate herself.

The scene of the story is laid in New Orleans, that alone of
American cities has preserved all the romance of its earlier days
in the titles of its streets. Though the story gives no description
of places beyond a word and a hint, save in the beautiful and
truthful picture of the Teche country, the reader becomes well
acquainted with the city. He is made to feel the picturesqueness

* Lady Jane. By Mrs. C. V. Jamison. New York : The Century Co.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 459

of the French quarter; the oddly-shaped roofs and tiles of the
houses ; the quaint gardens, and the fruits and flowers that grow
therein fruits and flowers strange to Northern senses, but not
stranger than are their names. He is taken to the street called
" Good Children" (Rue des Bons Enf ants') \ the home of Pepsie,
the Bon Praline, and Mr. Gex ; and to where come the villains
of the story, Mme. Jozain and her son Adraste, with poor Lady
Jane caught in their toils. He is shown the Esplanade, the. street
of gardens, and the only less beautiful St. Charles Avenue, where
the good Mme. Lanier has her first glimpse of Lady Jane, who
is fleeing from the wicked Mme. Jozain. To the Rue Royale,
that has echoed the tramp of the royal troops of Louis the
well-beloved, afterwards the " well-detested " ; and of those of
strife in the years of bayonet rule. From the balconies of its
houses noble Creole maids looked on the passing of the " Grand
Marquis," the chevaliers and counts of the French and Spanish
regimes; and from them their daughters applauded the Creole
troops as they marched by in 1861, and not two years after
looked in discontent and scorn at the soldiers of the Union oc-
cupation. It is to this Rue Royale, Mile. d'Hautreve, who has
an ancestry with names and titles of a rolling sound that keep
her poor, comes in ill days to sell her pitiable woolly ducks and
birds at one of the many shops of curios. And it is here, in
this street, that Mme. Jozain squanders stolen money to make a
show before the honest Paichoux, whom she meets at the Bon
Marche, the shop that contains something of everything under
the sun.

The great French Opera House, dear to Mr. Gex, ex-professor
of dancing to the noblesse and the rich, and teacher of that fine
art to Lady Jane, who is neither of the noblesse nor rich, is on
the Rue Bourbon. And it is there Madelon (Bon Praline) sells
her sugared pecans and pralines close by, perhaps, the house
where dwelt the "lady of the silver* veil," whose often-told story
has yet to be written. And after he has been shown the Christ-
mas' and New Year's festivities, the reader is taken to Canal
Street for the gorgeous carnival, the Mardi Gras, that carries you
back to centuries that are dead and forgotten except in New
Orleans. And here it is that Tite Souris and Tiburce Paichoux
lose Lady Jane, and here she has battle with the little ruffian
who would unmask her. She would have fared badly had it not
been for the gallant rescue by Mr. Gex, who smoothed her
ruffled plumage and carried her off to " one very fine little

460 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

dinner " ; and it was at the carnival that Lady Jane almost at-
tracted the attention of the boy Arthur Maynard, who had given
to her the blue heron, her constant friend and companion till it
was sold by the wicked Mme. Jozain.

These scenes and places and events are presented by the
author in a manner to satisfy her younger readers with her
brevity of description, but at the same time with so much clear-
ness that the experienced unconsciously enlarge her pictures
with their imaginations.

The writer of this notice does not purpose to spoil the
interest of those who intend to read Lady Jane by narrating its
plot. He will but permit himself to say that it has one, a
good one, and unusually well wrought out. The manner and
means by which the punishment of Mme. Jozain is brought
about are terribly just and perfectly natural, though entirely
unexpected. And it is in strokes like this, and in her strong
delineation of character and places, that Mrs. Jamison shows
capabilities of powerful work in the higher fiction.

The only character in the book who is open to legitimate
criticism is Mr. Chetwynd, of whom this much may be said with
justice : that, fortunately, he comes in only at the tail end of
the story. He is essentially wooden, and nothing the author
might have written about him could have made him interesting.
Pepsie, whom all will love who come to know her, the writer
feels sure, makes a big joke of her finding out things by her
cards. She is too good a Catholic to be superstitious. And
that is another charm of the story of Lady Jane. It is Catholic
without our holy religion, which beautifies all persons, places, and
things that it touches, being anywhere obtruded. There is one
character in the story that all will be glad to find there " Mar-
garet of New Orleans," "Saint Margaret," "The Mother of the
motherless," " The Lover of pod's little ones," to mention a por-
tion of the litany of sweet titles given the humble, unlettered
woman who built up fortunes that she might lavish them on the
homeless orphan.

The book is elegantly gotten up, and illustrated as only the
Century Company illustrates. The incorrectness of the repre-
sentation of what is a truly noble monument to " Margaret " is,
however, open to serious objection. It is needless, after what
has been written, to say that the story of Lady Jane is warmly
recommended to parents and others in search of a book for
their young people.

1891.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 461

8. THE BEING OF GOD.*

All believers in God and the Trinity will find much to ap-
prove and admire in these Lectures. Their doctrine is for the
most part in accordance with Catholic faith and theology, and
the teaching of the best and most orthodox divines of the
Church of England. The author does not belong to any one of
the principal divisions of Protestant writers on theological sub-
jects, as these have existed in the past. He appears to follow a
certain new direction in which Maurice and Mulford are leaders,
and having in some respects the same trend with the progres-
sive orthodoxy of Andover. The lectures show, consequently,
certain peculiarities which distinguish them from the ordinary
treatises of Anglican divines on the primary articles of the
Creed ; and they give hints of other differences in philosophy
and fundamental theology which are not clearly expressed.
There is a good share of originality in the author's presentation
of his views and arguments, and a certain quality of style which
adds liveliness and charm to the treatment of abstruse topics.
That part of Lecture III. which treats of the ontological argu-
ment for the existence of God is, in our opinion, an admirable
re-statement and vindication of the famous thesis a priori of St.
Anselm. A criticism of those views and arguments of the author
which are peculiar to his specific theory or individual view of
the nature and method of revelation, and of other topics con-
tained in the lectures, would require much time and space.
Naturally, the chief interest and principal circulation of the lec-
tures will be confined to the religious circle in which the author
belongs. Leaving to his own confreres the task of appreciating
and criticising more thoroughly his able and well-written work,
we conclude with the expression of our belief that it will prove
to be extremely useful to those who have any tendencies toward
agnosticism or pantheism, and to earnest-minded, devout Unita-
rians who are dissatisfied with their cold, abstract Theism.

9. CATHOLIC TRUTH SOCIETY PAMPHLETS.f
Matters of doctrine which are in heated controversy can

* The Being of God as Unity and Trinity. By P. H. Steenstra, D.D., Professor in
the Episcopal Theological School, Cambridge. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mifflin
&Co.

t Miracles. By the Rev. John Gmeiner. St. Paul : The Catholic Truth Society of
America.

462 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

scarcely be treated exhaustively in a pamphlet of a few pages,
but they may be treated in an original manner and in a pleas-
ing style, calculated to draw the attention of those outside the
fold. And it is but simple justice to remark of the pamphlets
we have seen of the Catholic Truth Society of America, that
they exhibit much originality of expression, and that they are
most pleasant and instructive reading. No one of them more so,
perhaps not as much so, as that of Father Gmeiner on miracles.
He shows very clearly what miracles are, what is their use, and
what a Catholic is bound to believe in their regard, and what
one is at liberty to consider as at least doubtful. A short essay
on this exceedingly important topic, such as Father Gmeiner
has given us, has long been needed, and we hope for its wide
circulation, not alone among Protestants but Catholics as well.
There is no one so fully instructed as not to be benefited by
its perusal.

1891.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 463

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ALL COMMUNICATIONS RELATING TO READING CIRCLES, LISTS OF BOOKS,
ETC., SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, NO.
415 WEST FIFTY-NINTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY.

BY special arrangement with Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons
a liberal discount will be allowed to orders coming through the
Columbian Reading Union. Lists of books selected from the
Scribners' catalogue will be sent to all our members. We urge
upon them to take advantage of this offer promptly, and to
bear in mind that the money for books must, be sent with the
order. By conducting business on a strictly cash basis, we can
secure for our patrons very satisfactory arrangements in the
purchase of books. To our well-wishers among intelligent
readers we are prepared to give the advantages of long expe-
rience in the selection of books ; we cannot, however, assume
responsibility for the payment of their bills.

* # *

For some time the Columbian Reading Union has been
gathering information from reliable sources concerning the writ-
ings of M. Imbert de Saint-Amand on the famous women of
the French court. He is a Catholic author, and has won high
honors for his excellent work in portraying the chief actors of a
most memorable epoch of modern history. The events asso-
ciated with the French Revolution are especially interesting to
American readers, inasmuch as they led to the discussion of
problems relating to the welfare of our own Republic. Each
book of M. Imbert de Saint-Amand has for its nucleus some
portion of the life of one of the eminent women prominent at
the French court. Four volumes of the series have been trans-
lated by Elizabeth Gilbert Martin. Her well-known ability will
render them very acceptable to Catholic readers.

The following list of titles shows the general scope of the
thirteen volumes by M. Imbert de Saint-Amand :

Three Volumes on Marie Antoinette : Marie Antoinette and
the End of the Old Regime ; Marie Antoinette at the Tuileries ;
Marie Antoinette and the Downfall of Royalty. Three Vol-
umes on the Empress Josephine : Citizeness Bonaparte ; The Wife

of the First Consul ; The Court of the Empress Josephine.

VOL. LIV. 30

464 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Dec.,

Four Volumes on the Empress Marie Louise : The Happy Days
of Marie Louise ; Marie Louise and the Decadence of the Em-
pire ; Marie Louise and the Invasion of 1814; Marie Louise, the

Return from Elba, and the Hundred Days. The Period of the

Restoration : The Youth of the Duchess of Angouleme (in press) ;
The Duchess of Angouleme and the Two Restorations (in pre-
paration) ; The Duchess of Berry and the Court of Louis
XVIII. (in preparation).

* * *

From Cleveland, Ohio, we received the following report,
written by one deeply interested in the work of Reading Circles :

" When we organized last fall we found that, though our
numbers were few, we would need two circles, as some could
not attend in the day-time and others could not spare the eve-
ning. Each circle has its own officers, but there is also a gene-
ral board, and we have union meetings once in three months to
report upon the work done in the two circles. The president of
each circle is, by virtue of office, a vice-president of the general
board. Our day-circle commenced with the story of Fabiola,
because that was most easily procured. We spent about three
months studying the topics that came up in connection with the
early history of the church. Then, as topics nearer to our time
possessed more vital interest for us, we voted to take up Matilda
of Canossa. Our programme for this week is as follows : the
first five chapters of the book are to be read by each member
at home ; then articles are to be brought in by the different
members on the following topics (all of which are alluded to in
the book) : investitures ; celibacy of the clergy ; alchemy and as-
trology ; the domestic life of the Middle Ages ; the education of
girls at that period; Henry II. of Germany; the Creed of St.
Athanasius ; St. Benedict, Avicenna, Alexander II., and Hugh
Capet.

" Of course, we are new in the work and the articles are not
long ; still, every one seems much interested and cheerfully takes
up the work appointed for her. The programme is prepared by
a committee, but the president assigns the work. It was decided
that we should respond to roll-call by quotations from some se-
lected author, and though I was at first opposed to this plan, I
must confess that it works well, as we read very carefully in
order to find something appropriate. The quotations for our
last meeting were from ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' and we
were astonished ourselves at the aptness of most of the lines
that were given. We meet once every two weeks promptly at
half-past four and adjourn at six. We have made many mistakes
and stumble often, but we really think that the interest grows at
each meeting ; and with God's help we believe our work will be
crowned with success. For years have I wished for something of
this kind, and most earnestly do I pray God that the efforts of
the Columbian Reading Union for us all may be blessed.

"J. C. J."

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

465

St. Monica's Reading Circle, of Cleveland, Ohio, has planned
a very comprehensive outline of study, limited to the thirteenth
century. It is an evidence of great industry on the part of the
members, and indicates that they are seriously working for their
own self-improvement. They have prepared an excellent sum-
mary of historical topics, which is here given for the benefit of
all the Reading Circles, to assist their programme committees :

THIRTEENTH CENTURY.

1198-1216 Innocent III.
1216-1227 Honoriiis III.
1227-1241 Gregory IX.

1241 Celestine IV.

1243-1254 Innocent IV.
1254-1261 Alexander IV.
1261-1264 Urban IV.
1265-1268 Clement IV.
1271-1276 Gregory X.

Popes.

1276 Innocent V.

1276 Adrian V.

1276-1277 John XX. or XXI.
1277-1280 Nicholas III.
1281-1285 Martin IV.
1285-1287 Honorius IV.
1288-1292 Nicholas IV.

1294 St. Peter Celestine V.

1294-1303 Boniface VIII.

Sovereigns.

England :

1199-1216 John.

1216-1272 Henry III.

1272-1307 Edward I.
France :

1180-1223 Philip Augustus.

1223-1226 Louis VIII., the Lion.

1226-1270 Louis IX., St. Louis.

1270-1285 Philip III., the Bold.

1285-1314 Philip IV., the Fair.

and

Germany :

1198-1208 Philip of Suabia

Otho IV.

1208-1215 Otho IV., Alone.
1215-1250 Frederick II.
1250-1254 Conrad IV.
1254-1273 Interregnum.
1273-1291 Rudolph of Hapsburg.
1292-1298 Adolph of Nassau.
1298-1308 Albert I.

Saints.

1170-1221 St. Dominic.
1189-1258 St. Peter Nolasco.
1182-1226 St. Francis of Assisi.
1195-1231 St. Anthony of Padua.
1207-1231 St. Elizabeth of Hungary.
1193-1253 St. Clara, founder of the " Poor Clares."
1221-1274 St. Bonaventura, the "Seraphic Doctor."
1227-1274 St. Thomas Aquinas, the "Angelic Doctor."
1221-1292 St. Gertrude, author of " Divine Insinuations."

1287 St.' Mechtilde, author of the " Book of Spiritual Graces.

Noted Men.

1184-1296 Saadi, Persian poet.
1214-1294 Roger Bacon, " Doctor Mirabilis."
1240-1302 Cimabue, painter.
1213-1294 Andreas Taffi, introduced mosaic painting in Italy.

1 22 1 (?) Guido of Siena, painter.

466 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Dec.,

1180-1236 Giunta Pisano, painter.

1276-1336 Giotto, painter, sculptor, and architect.

1248 Master Gerhard, architect of Cologne Cathedral.

- 1318 Erwin de Steinbach, architect of Strasburg Cathedral.
1265-1321 Dante.

Bernard de Morlaix, sacred poet.

Thomas of Celano, author of the " Dies Iras."

1308 Jacopone, or Jacobus di Benedictus, author of the " Stabat Mater."
Adam of St. Victor, sacred poet.

1245 Alexander of Hales, the " Irrefragable Doctor."

1205-1280 Albertus Magnus, the " Universal Doctor."
1266-1308 Duns Scotus, the "Subtile Doctor."

1254 Matthew Paris, English historian.

1291 Michael Scott, philosopher; supposed magician.

1236-1315 Raymond Lully, Spanish scientist and missionary to the Saracens.

1201-1274 Nassir-Eddin, Persian astronomer.

1254-1324 Marco Polo, Venetian traveller.

1201-1274 Robert de Sorbonne, founder of Sorbonne College at Paris.

1150-1228 Stephen Langton, Cardinal and Archbishop of Canterbury.

1206-1265 Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.

1220-1285 Charles of Anjou.

1231-1266 Manfred, King of Sicily.

1216-1294 Kublai-Khan, grandson of Genghis-Khan.

1210-1295 Robert Bruce I.; Robert Bruce II., d. 1304.

1259-1314 John Baliol.

1276-1305 Sir William Wallace.

1240-1287 Adam de la Halle, composer.

MEMORABLE EVENTS.

1202 Fifth (sometimes called the Fourth) Crusade French and Venetians

under Baldwin, Count of Flanders.
1217 Crusade of Andrew of Hungary.
1215-16 Magna Charta.
121 2 Children's Crusade.
1268 Pragmatic Sanction.

1222 The Golden Bull, the basis of Hungarian Liberty.
1228 Sixth Crusade, under Frederick II. of Germany.
1239 The Kingdom of Granada founded.
1248 Seventh Crusade, under St. Louis, King of France.
1250 The Mamelukes masters of Egypt.
1250 The invention of gunpowder.
1261 The end of the Latin Empire of the East,
1270 Eighth Crusade ; Death of St. Louis.
1282 The Conquest of Wales.

Swiss Confederation.
1215-29 French Inquisitions.

Minstrels, Minnesingers, and Troubadours.

The Romances of " King Arthur," " The Holy Grail," " Guy of War-
wick," " Tristan and Iseulte," " Merlin," etc.

The " Golden Legend " of Jacobus de Voragine, Archbishop of Genoa.

1891.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 467

1210 Nibelungenlied, the German Iliad.

Mysteries and Miracle Plays.

The Feast of Fools and Asses.
1231 Translation of the Almagest.
1252 The Alphonsine Tables.

Foundation of Universities Paris (1206), Toulouse (1228), Bologna

(1200), Padua (1222), Salamanca (1240), Lisbon (1290), Cambridge

(1257), Oxford (1249).
1 243 Hanseatic League.
1265 First regular Parliament in England.

Persecutions of the Jews.
1282 Sicilian Vespers, Massacre of the French in Sicily.

Flagellants in Italy.

Beguines and Beghards.

1223 Indulgence of the Portiuncula (August 2).
1291 House of Loretto.
1246 The Festival of Corpus Christi instituted by Robert, Bishop of Liege.

The introduction of the Rosary by the Dominican Friars.
1228, 1292 Mission in China by John of Monte-Cbrvino.

* * *

After reading the above list of historical topics some of our
learned Catholic brethren, who have had leisure to read all that
has been written on the thirteenth century, could do a most
useful service to our movement by jotting down some of the
best books in English on that much-maligned period of history.
For obvious reasons the list of books to be recommended should
not be in a foreign language, but be chosen to meet the wants
of the general reader. Will any one arrange and send to the
Columbian Reading Union such a list for the thirteenth century,
or for other epochs of history ?

# * *

In the supplementary notes furnished to members of the
National Home Reading Union of Great Britain we find these
statements from a non-Catholic source on the same period : " By
one high authority the thirteenth century is regarded as the
greatest age which the world has ever seen. Strange as this
view may seem to many, there are not wanting many evidences
in its favor. The Papacy, that great institution whose influence
over men has been second only to that of the Roman Empire
if indeed it be second was in the thirteenth century at the
very summit of its power. Wielded by the man who was at
once the most far-sighted statesman, the most skilful diplomatist,
and the most unyielding combatant of his time, the authority of
Rome was bounded by little but the conscience and foresight of
Pope Innocent III. Not only was the Papacy in so advanta-

468 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Dec.,

geous a position ; the church as a spiritual agency was reformed
and revivified by two of the most single-hearted and devoted of
all the world's heroes. The Friar Preachers and the Friar
Minorites were glorious, and the debt of society to them is
nearly as great as that of religion. Of their two founders, per-
haps St. Dominic is the stronger man and St. Francis of Assisi
the more fascinating character."

" But great as was the work of the church in the province of
morals, it was still greater in that of thought ; for to this age
are due the gigantic labors of the great schoolmen. St. Thomas
of Aquinas, Duns Scotus, Bonaventura, were probably among
the greatest intellects who ever devoted themselves to the study
of truth far superior in clearness of head and power of cogent
reasoning to many of the modern writers who sneer at their
works without having read them. By them Catholic theology
was moulded in the forms of the Aristotelian philosophy, and
given an argumentative basis which is not even yet regarded as
obsolete (witness the new edition of the works of St. Thomas
Aquinas carried out at the bidding and under the auspices of
the present Pope). Not only does the Catholic Church owe so
much to these men ; the universities of Europe, and especially
Paris, were perhaps never before or since in so flourishing a
condition. Founded they were not by the doctors of the
schools, illustrated by them they most assuredly were, their in-
fluence multiplied a thousandfold, and their hold on society and
all who aimed at being educated vastly strengthened ; in that
age, too, the universities were the haunts of bond-fide students,
and not the happy hunting grounds of the indolent."
* * *

Reading Circles will do profitable work for their members by
gathering choice quotations from Catholic writers of the thir-
teenth century. They will bear comparison with the best pro-
ductions of modern authors. On many important subjects they
have brought to bear all the knowledge that could be gathered
from the ancient world. As they never saw the wonders of
nature revealed by the microscope and the telescope, they could
not give final decisions on many problems of science.

M. C. M.

1891.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 469

WITH THE PUBLISHER.

WITH the hearty greeting that the Publisher sends to the
thousands of his readers and he feels towards them all as a
brother, and feels it most at Christmas-tide he wishes to sug-
gest that there could be few more appropriate presents for a
friend than a year's subscription to the magazine. He won't
speak of the cost as an element in favor of such a choice, for
the price never yet made a present valuable. The value of a
present to a friend is in the proportion it bears of yourself; it
reflects your own taste and judgment, and at the same time is,
in a refined way, your measure of his taste and appreciation.
The ideal present has then, apart from anything so sordid as
price, a double value, and it is in no unworthy spirit of boast-
fulness that the Publisher suggests THE CATHOLIC WORLD as
possessing those qualities which render a present valuable. You
could not easily find a more becoming medium to express your-
self, and you would pay a delicate compliment to your friend's
intelligence and good taste. You do not require proof of this,
for each number of. the magazine witnesses its truth.

And for your friend you could not open the pages of the
magazine to him at a more opportune time than with the com-
ing issue. We have already announced for the year 1892 a
series of articles of interest touching the fourth centenary of the
discovery of America, and it gives us much pleasure to announce
that the January issue will contain a generous instalment of
these articles from Aubrey de Vere, Col. Richard Malcolm
Johnson, and Father Louis Dutto, who will furnish for the first
time, we believe, an accurate key to the chronology of Colum-
bus.

But there is still another reason that urges THE CATHOLIC
WORLD on your consideration as an appropriate present. It
will give you an opportunity of doing some missionary work for
the Apostolate of the Press ; it gives you an opportunity, and
with those who have the courage of conviction this means much.
You know as well as the Publisher for he has never allowed

470 WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Dec.,

an opportunity to pass in which he has not insisted strongly on
this feature of the magazine you know that the cause of Truth
through the printed word is the cause that made THE CATHO-
LIC WORLD ; you know that you are doing more than deriving
mere personal benefit from the magazine ; you are one of the
many and they should be many more who are serving this
cause, are partakers of its spirit, reflectors of its zeal and
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your support of it makes you a sharer in its trials and brings
some self-denial. It is your work, you are very materially iden-
tified with it, for without your support it could not in the ordi-
nary course of things exist.

But it exists and has existed for twenty-eight years. It has
served the cause of Truth throughout this period without a bit
of financial backing, and for twenty-three years did not even
solicit the patronage of advertisers as a help to its support.
From a commercial point of view, especially when one considers
the great expense involved in publication, it was an impossi-
bility. So it would be, were it a commercial enterprise. But it
was founded in another spirit and for other ends, and under God
it has achieved and will achieve the purposes of its founder.
It rests with our readers and the Publisher has said this times
without number it rests with our readers to propagate that
spirit, and to widen the knowledge of its purpose to serve the
Truth through Printer's Ink.

And the Publisher would refer to your serious attention the
article in this issue which tells of the proposed Convention in
behalf of the Apostolate of the Press. He would ask a careful
reading of the article, especially as it points the way to so many
avenues of endeavor and opportunity in that work which must
enlist our loyalty and every sentiment of charity and zeal in be-
half of those who still look for the light. More than this, the
Publisher trusts that a very large percentage of his readers will
see their way to a participation in the work of the Convention,
even though it demand some sacrifice the Truth is worth that

and more.

The Publisher begs in conclusion to remind his readers that
The Life of Father Hecker, which was published in serial form in
the pages of the magazine, is now issued in bound form by the
Columbus Press for $1.50 net, postage free.

1891.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 471

Some of our readers have not learned the welcome news
that a short time before his death William Gifford Palgrave was
reconciled to the church. He was a brilliant scholar, a profound
Orientalist, and, as his unfinished Vision of Life bears testimony,
a poet of high rank. He resigned his commission in the British
army to become a Jesuit. He studied at Rome, labored as a
missionary in India, Syria, and Palestine, preaching and writing
in Arabic, and had a perfect knowledge of the Mohammedan
East. Because of the Druse persecution his mission was aban-
doned, and he then began his great travels through hitherto un-
explored parts of Arabia. He apostatized and entered the
British diplomatic service, and as consul was the representative
of his government at various places in both hemispheres. His
varied and adventurous life came to a close in Uruguay, where,
as has been said above, by the great mercy of God he received
the grace that led him to a reconciliation with the church. His
experience of life was such that, viewed especially in the light of
the event that preceded its close, it must ever be a cause for
regret that his Vision was left unfinished at his death. In the
opinion of a recent writer in The Academy, " English literature
has seldom suffered a loss so painful and pathetic as by the in-
completion of this wonderful book. Palgrave summing up in
one great poem the experiences of a unique and various life, and
dying before he could accomplish it, commands our truest com-
passion."

Miss Eliza Allen Starr has issued from St. Joseph's Cot-
tage, 299 Huron Street, Chicago, two new books : Christmas-tide,
dedicated to the memory of the late James McMasters ; and
an illustrated juvenile on birds and flowers entitled What We

See.

Mr. John Hodges, of London, will soon publish an English
translation of Dr. Pastor's History of the Popes from the Close of the
Middle Ages. It is to be prefaced by a short introduction from
the pen of Cardinal Manning.

A Dictionary of Irish Poets is in preparation by Mr. D. J.
O'Donoghue. It will include biographical as well as bibliograph-
ical particulars and the first of its three parts will be issued
about December 15.

Mr. W. S. Lilly is preparing for early publication a work on
Shibboleths. It will deal with the catchwords of the day, repre-
senting the most conspicuous phases of current opinion on sub-

47 2 WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Dec.,

jects of social and political interest. Its seven chapters will treat
of Progress, Liberty, Public Opinion, The People, Education,
Supply and Demand, and Woman's Rights.

Something of an eccentricity in periodical literature will be
the projected magazine entitled Pitman's Shorthand Weekly. It
will be entirely written in shorthand, and if designed with a view
to give one facility in reading his " notes " can have of itself but
little value with the already abundant examples furnished for
such exercise in the standard text-books. But " of books there
is no end."

A beautiful Christmas book for children is published by
Macmillan & Co., and is called Tennyson for the Young. It has
an introduction and is annotated by Canon Ainger. It is sur-
prising to find how much of Tennyson's finest and most thought-
ful verse is suitable to those whose acquaintance with literature
is as yet of the slightest. The selection includes lyrics, Arthu-
rian poems, cantos from In Memoriam, narrative poems, and
ballads.

A novel feature that obtains in three of the public libraries
of London is the issue of music for home use. The music em-
braces the principal operas, oratorios, and cantatas, as well as col-
lections of songs and classical piano-forte playing.

Charles Scribner's Sons announce an "American History Series"
in epochs. Prof. G. P. Fisher, of Yale, is to treat of discovery and
colonization ; Prof. W. M. Sloane, of Princeton, of the French Wars
and the Revolution ; President F. A. Walker, Boston Institute
of Technology, of the Constitution and national consolidation ;
and Prof. J. W. Burgess, of Columbia, of the period from the
peace of 1815 -to the end of Reconstruction.

Art and Criticism, a collection of studies and monographs by
Theodore Child, is the title of a fine volume just published by
Harper & Brothers. It is enriched with numerous illustrations,
many of these being reproductions of famous paintings by Euro-
pean artists. The same firm has published a new and elaborately
illustrated edition of Ben-Hur. They also announce Studies in
Chaucer by Prof. T. R. Lounsbury, a work which discusses almost
every problem of the poet's life and writings ; and English Words
by Prof. Charles J. Johnson, Trinity College, Hartford. This
book embraces an elementary study of derivations and includes a
discussion of the literary value of words, so that, besides the
value it will have as a text-book, it will be of interest to all
who seek to acquire correctness of diction.

1891.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 473

The Catholic Publication Society Co. has just published :

Life of St. Francis di Geronimo, S.J. By A. M. Clarke.

(New volume Quarterly Series.)
The Chasuble. By Father Lockhart, B.A. Oxon.
The Gospel History. Abridged from the New Testament

Narrative. By Provost Wenham. Illustrated.
A Visit to the Catacombs. By Provost Northcote, D.D. New

and cheaper edition.
The Maid of Orleans. Her Life and Mission, from original

documents. By F. M. Wyndham, M.A. With Preface

by Cardinal Manning.
The Autobiography of Archbishop Ullathorne. With selections

from his letters. By Augusta Theodosia Drane.

The same firm announces :

Text-books on Mental Philosophy and Logic. By Rev. Charles
Coppens, SJ. (To be ready on January I.)

The Wisdom and Wit of Blessed Thomas More. Edited,
with introduction, by Rev. T. E. Bridgett, C.SS.R.

Peter ; or, The Power of a Good Education. By Dom Bosco.
Translated by Lady Martin.

Benziger Brothers' new publications are :

The Good Christian. Vols. vii. viii. of Hunolt's Sermons.
Two volumes. Eight volumes have now been published
of Father Hunolt's Sermons ; vols. ix. x., The Christian's
Last End, are in press, and vols. xi.-xii., The Christian's
Model, which completes the work, are being translated.

Catholic Home Almanac, 1892.

They have in preparation :

On Christian Art. By Edith Healy. With an Introduction
by Right Rev. John L. Spalding, D.D.

474 BOOKS RECEIVED. [Dec., 1891.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

THE GOOD CHRISTIAN ; or, Sermons on the Chief Christian Virtues. By the
Rev. Francis Hunolt, SJ. Translated by the Rev. J. Allen, D.D. New York,
Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

ILIOS ET ILIADE. Par Gaston Sortair, S.J. Paris: Emile Bouillon.

MEXICO. Washington: Bureau of the American Republics.

JESUS, THE CARPENTER OF NAZARETH . By a Layman. New York: Char-
les Scribner's Sons.

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. By John Bunyan. Springfield : Farm and Fireside
Library.

ACROSS RUSSIA. By Charles Augustus Stoddard. New York : Charles Scrib-
ner's Sons.

INFORMATION READEH, No. 2. By H. Warren Clifford, S.D. Boston : School
Supply Co.

ON A TASTE FOR GOOD READING. By Frederick William Faber, D.D. Balti-
more : John Murphy & Co.

AN EXPOSITION OF THE EPISTLES OF ST. PAUL, AND OF THE CATHOLIC
EPISTLES. By the Most Rev. John MacEvilly, D.D., Archbishop of Tuam.
Dublin: M. H. Gill & Son; New York, Cincinnati, Chicago: Benziger
Brothers.

LIFE OF ST. FRANCIS DI GERONIMO, OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS. By A.
M. Clarke. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

WHAT is REALITY? By Francis Howe Johnson. Boston and New York:
Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

ST. BENEDICT'S CATECHISM. Approved by L. M., O.S.B., Bishop of Leaven-
worth. Leavenworth : Ketcheson & Reeves.

BOOK OF INSTRUCTIONS FOR CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. New York, Cincinnati :
Fr. Pustet & Co.

THE STORY OF THE CHILDHOOD AND PASSION OF THE LORD JESUS THE SA-
VIOUR. Printed with an Alfabet of 45 Letters. By John M. Kliih. Chica-
go : J. M. Kliih.

HELP FOR THE POOR SOULS IN PURGATORY. By Joseph Ackermann. Edited
by F. B. Luebbermann. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

NATURE AND MAN IN AMERICA. By N. S. Shaler. New York : Charles Scrib-
ner's Sons.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ARCHBISHOP ULLATHORNE. London : Burns &
Gates ; New York : The Catholic Publication Society.

MEMORIAL VOLUME OF THE CENTENARY OF ST. MARY'S SEMINARY OF ST.
SULPICE, BALTIMORE, Md. Baltimore : John Murphy & Co.

PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.

ANNUAL REPORT OF THE CARROLL INSTITUTE. Washington : Church News

Publishing Co.
THE CONSERVATIVE POWER OF CATHOLICITY. By Conde" B. Fallen. St.

Paul : Catholic Truth Society.
TRAP-SIPHONAGE AND TRAP-SEAL PROTECTION. By Prof. J. B. Denton.

Concord : Republican Press.
ADDRESS OF RT. REV. J. L. SPALDING, D.D., BISHOP OF PEORIA. Delivered

at the Dedication of St. Bede's College, Peru, 111., Oct. 12, 1891. St. Vincent's

Abbey Print.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

VOL. LIV. JANUARY, 1892. No. 322.

COLUMBUS, AND THE SEA-PORTENT.

[This record, however the legendary may have colored it in part, is admitted to be
historical ; and it has a great significance as illustrating a side of Columbus's character often
ignored. That character can be but half understood while he is contemplated only in his
connection with our modern era of discovery. He belonged no less to the days of Chivalry and
Religion. Zealous as he was to enrich the world with new knowledge, his heart turned with a
yet deeper affection to the East than to the West ; and to the hope of a new Crusade. Coper-
nicus and Columbus stood at the gates of two worlds, those of ancient Faith and of modern
Science,]

FlERCELIER eight days the tempest roared and raved :
Feebler each day that God-protected bark
Shuddering in every plank, and panting, clomb
The mountain waves, or sank to vales betwixt them :
Meantime the great Sea-Wanderer lay nigh death
In agonies unnamed : old wounds once more
Bled fast at every joint. At times his head
He raised to learn if stood the masts, or fell ;
Then on his pallet sank with hands hard clasped,
Silent. Full oft the mariners o'erspent
Approached him, clamoring " Master, give it o'er !
Drift we before the storm to loved Castile ! "
Such suppliants still Columbus answered thus
In words unchanged : " Good news were that for powers
Accursed, who clutch dominion long usurped,
Lording God's Western world ! They hate the Cross,
And know that when it lands their realm dissolves.
Theirs is this tempest ; and therein they ride ! "

The eighth eve had come. While hard the sunset strove
To pierce the on-racing clouds, a cry rang out
Re-echoed from those caravels three hard by,
The cry of men death-doomed. Columbus rose :
Saint Francis' habit and Saint Francis' cord

476 COLUMBUS, AND THE SEA-PORTENT. [Jan.,

Girt him, for on the seas at times on land

His great heart joyed to wear that Patriarch's garb

Within whose sacred convent-homes full oft

When sick with wrongs or earthly hope deferred,

Hope heavenly rose renewed. The Kings had mocked,

The Monks sustained him. Hail, Rabida, hail !

Thy cloisters he had paced ; thy pathways hard

Yet sweet with lavender and thyme ; had gazed

On the azure waves from Palos' promontory ;

Listened its meek Superior's words : " Fear naught !

Beyond that beaming ocean lies thy world !

Thou seek'st that world for God's sake, not for man's ;

Therefore God grants it thee." Next morn he sailed :

That holy monk his great Viaticum

Gave him while yet 'twas dark.

He heard that cry :
Like warrior-Pontiff or like Prophet old
Treading the leanest of gray Carmel's crags
Such seemed he, steadying with drawn sword his steps.
The sailors round him crouched. Whence came their terror?
That Spectre Demon of " The gloomy sea "
Till then by Europe's mariners never kenned
Was circling t'ward them. Evermore in gyres
Nearer it reeled, departing to return.
They who in later years beheld that shape
Gave it this name, " The Typhon of the waves,"
The sole that yet it bears on eastern seas.
Tower-like its columned stem ascends up-drawing
To heaven huge ocean wastes, a tree of death
Whose crest, far-spread, blackens the waves like night :
The spell dissolves ; it breaks ; it falls. The ship
Beneath, whole navies, were they linked in one,
Thenceforth is seen no more.

Columbus stood :

Alone of those who gazed he felt no fear :
Like Lucifer, ere fallen, that Portent flashed ;
Like Lucifer, a rebel judged, it gloomed :
Calmly the Man of God gazed on. He knew
That Spirits of bale and Nature's Powers alike
Bow to God's Will. The man but late had read
The Gospel of St. John. He raised the tome :
His sword pressed down the page. He read, not loud
And yet with voice that pierced that raging storm :

1892.] COLUMBUS, AND THE SEA-PORTENT. 477

" In the beginning was the Word ; with God

For evermore He dwelt : He made the worlds.

And lo! the Word of God assumed Man's Flesh."

He ceased ; then spake once more : " Whate'er thou art,

Or Spirit, or Body, or both, hear and obey!

My Christ is God : He wears Man's Flesh in heaven.

We sail to plant Christ's Cross on Pagan shores.

By this, His Sign, I bid hence to depart ! "

Then with his sword the Christian Sign he signed

High in the air; and on the deck beneath

Slowly a circle traced. Again he spake :

"As stand the Hills around Jerusalem

So round His People stands the Lord their God ;

The kingdom 'of the Impure is cut in twain ! "

And straight the advancing Portent, thus adjured,

Swerved from his course, and curving t'ward the North,

Vanished in cloud.

Once more a cry was heard
Cry of those Spirits dethroned a keener note
Than wail of human woe. In distance lost
It died. Then slowly from the North on rolled
The gathered bulk of ocean in one wave,
An onward-moving mountain smooth as huge,
And lifted by that wave, lifted not whelmed,
Those worn-out mariners saw again that sun
But lately set. Sobbing the tempest ceased :
Prone lay the ocean like that sea of glass
Mingled with fire that spreads before God's throne :
And the glory of the Lord was on that wave.
Painless that night the Apostolic Man
Slumbered ; upon his breast the scroll of him
Whose head had rested on the Master's breast.
In sleep fair visions soothed him ; western Isles
Innumerable, thick-set with temples vast
That hurled their worship to the God Triune ;
And, eastward far, his boyhood's hopes fulfilled,
Christ's Sepulchre redeemed from Moslem thrall ;
Pale Christians from their dungeons issuing free ;
And Christian standards crowning Salem's towers.

AUBREY DE VERE.

VOL. LIV. 31

47 8 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

HISTORICAL SKETCHES ON COLUMBUS.

I. BIRTHPLACE.

THREE writers of Jhe present century acquired a world-wide
reputation as biographers of Christopher Columbus : Washington
Irving, Roselly de Lorgues, and H. Harrisse. Irving dismissed
the subject of his birthplace by saying that "of the early days
of Christopher Columbus nothing certain is known. The time
of his birth, his birthplace, his parentage, are all involved in ob-
scurity, and such has been the perplexing ingenuity of commen-
tators that it is difficult to extricate the truth from the web of
conjectures with which it is interwoven." Roselly de Lorgues, on
the contrary, is positive that " Columbus was born in Genoa."
Henry Harrisse, who published his work in two large octavo
volumes as late as 1884, inclines to the opinion that the discov-
erer of America first saw the light of day at Quinto, a village a
few miles east of Genoa, or at Terrarossa, near by it. Besides
those mentioned above, each of the following towns and cities of
Italy have claimed to be the birthplace of the immortal mariner :
Savona, Cuccaro, Cogoleto, Nervi, Albisola, Bogliasco, Cosseria,
Finale, Oneglia, Chiavari, Milano, and Modena. Charles Molloy,
in his work De jure Maritime, published in London in 1682,
maintains that Columbus was born in England, while a French
writer, commanded the attention of his government when in 1883 he
advanced the opinion that Calvi (in the Island of Corsica) alone
had a right to be called the birthplace of Christopher Columbus.

In the midst of so much uncertainty it will no doubt appear
presumptuous on my part to pretend to unravel the tangled his-
torical web and ascertain the truth. But I set small claim to
original research, and only intend in the main to place before
the American reader in a succinct form the fruits of other
minds' labors. It must not be forgotten that it was only of very
late years that some of the most important documents which, it
seems now clear, are destined to for ever set at rest the question
of Columbus's birthplace, were discovered.

What good shall I accomplish if I succeed in pointing out
the exact spot on which the discoverer was born ? I might an-
swer that the subject has interest enough in itself, and historical
importance, to have prompted the New York lawyer and dis-
tinguished critic H. Harrisse to give it years of study and to

1892.] THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. 479

write on it 186 octavo pages. But the following bit of history
will show the question to be not entirely without its practical
side. In October, 1847, a United States fleet of five ships, under
command of Commodore Reed, was anchored in the port of
Genoa. On the eleventh of that month Captain R. Engle left
the port on board the steamer Princeton and sailed to Cogo-
leto, some twenty miles west, and, having fired as many guns as
the solemnity of the occasion required, went on shore with his
officers "to salute the birthplace of him who had given him a
country." Having then humbly petitioned for it, he obtained
from the town council a relic : the door of the old house in
which, it was claimed, Columbus was born.*

The villagers of Cogoleto could not allow the memory of so
great an event to perish, and A.D. 1888 caused an inscription,
graven in marble, to be placed in the venerable structure. It
reads as follows :

ON THE IITH OF OCTOBER, A.D. 1847,

LAID ANCHORS IN THESE WATERS
THE NORTH AMERICAN STEAMER PRINCETON,
COMMANDED BY CAPTAIN R. ENGLE,

WHO CAME WITH HIS COMPANIONS

TO SALUTE THE COUNTRY

OF THE GREAT MARINER.

Scores of American tourists are every year enticed into visit-
ing Cogoleto and carrying away with them little mementoes of
the birthplace of Columbus. It is nevertheless certain that he
was not a native of that village. All historical critics are now
agreed that he was a Genoese in the sense that he was born
somewhere in the territory of the ancient Republic of Geneva.
In the light of documents lately found there remains no doubt
that the discoverer of America first saw the light in the city
of Genoa itself.

It is strange that the repeated assurance of Columbus should
not have always been thought sufficient proof of this fact. In an
important legal' document drawn by a notary, and by which he
instituted a majorat, or entailed estate, he orders his son Diego
and his heirs to provide in perpetuity for one man of their
lineage, married, and living in the city of Genoa, " because," he
says, " I hail from there and there I was born."

Antonio Gallo, the chancellor of the famous bank of St.
George (which is known to have had transactions with Columbus

* I wonder if that door is not even now carefully kept in a glass case in some American
museum ?

480 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

and with his son Diego), writing about A.D. 1499, expressly says
that he and his brother Bartholomew were " Ligurians, born in
Geneva of plebeian parents : Natione Ligures ac Genuce plebeis
orti parentibus." Senarega, the official historian of the Genoese
Republic and a contemporary of Columbus, says the same thing.
Alessandro Geraldini, a personal friend of Columbus, says that he
was Italus, et Genuce Ligurice urbe fuit i.e., that he was Italian,
born in Genoa, a city of Liguria. In the light of this evidence
there should never have arisen any doubt about the place of his
nativity. But Columbus laid claims to a noble ancestry by re-
taining in his coat-of-arms, which was granted him immediately
after his first voyage, certain armorial devices which, he insisted,
belonged to his forefathers. It would have been a crime at the
court of Ferdinand and Isabella for Columbus, who had just
been raised to the high dignity of First Admiral of Spain and
Viceroy of India, to have been born of untitled parents. Hence
the necessity of keeping silence in regard to his origin. I do
not wish to discuss here the question if Columbus was or not of
noble lineage.

Ferdinand, his youngest son, wrote the first biography of his
father. He having become a grandee of Spain, under Charles V.,
and a travelling companion of the great monarch, could not
afford to have it known in the courts of Europe that his father's
father had been a simple weaver of cloth. Hence he made in
his book a bold attempt to manufacture history so far, at least,
as the origin of his parents was concerned, and succeeded in
puzzling the future historians of three centuries by representing
that, after careful researches, he had not succeeded in establish-
ing his father's birthplace or the line of his ancestors. According
to his book it would, however, appear probable that his father
was of noble blood and a descendant of the illustrious family of
Columbus in the city of Piacenza, and perhaps of the famous
Roman patrician Colonus!

That Ferdinand wrote in bad faith, perhaps aided and abetted
by Christopher's two brothers Bartholomew and 'James, there can
be no doubt. For in January, 1515, when his uncle James was
yet living, and before he could have learned that his elder uncle
Bartholomew had died a few weeks before in San Domingo,
Ferdinand, then at least twenty-six years of age and a literary
man of some repute, was in Genoa busily engaged in collecting
books for what became the finest private library in Spain. Can
it be believed that there (or from his uncles Bartholomew and
James) he could not, had he tried, have learned who his grand-

1892.] THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. 481

father was, what profession he exercised, and where his father
Christopher was born ? The discoverer of America had scarcely
breathed his last when, outside of Spain, he was so far forgot-
ten as to make it possible for an obscure German geographer to
rob him of the honor of bequeathing his name to the Western
Continent. Spanish historians could do no better than to draw
their information about the birthplace of Columbus and his
early life from the members of his own family, who deceived
them.

Hence of the earliest historians of Spain who wrote about
Columbus all agreed that he was Genoese, in the sense that he
was born in what would now be called the Province of Genoa,
but Oviedo, who was official chronicler of Charles V. and
salaried historian of the Indies, and who was personally ac-
quainted with Columbus, says : " The place of origin of his ances-
tors is the city of Piacenza, in Lombardy." But he adds else-
where : " As I heard from men of his nationality, he was born in
the province of Liguria, in Italy, where is found the city and
Seftoria of Geneva : some say in Savona, and others at Nervi, a
little city or village on the sea-coast two leagues east of the
same city of Geneva ; and it is believed to be more likely that
he was t born at a place called Cugureo," now called Cogoleto.
Lorenzo Galindez de Carbajal, who knew Columbus and lived at
the court of Spain at the time of the discovery of America, says
that he was born in Savona. Las Casas, a friend of Columbus,
seems to think that he was from a little town called Terrarossa,
from the fact that before his discoveries he used to sign his
name as " Columbus de terra rubea" Pedro Martyr d'Anghierra
and Bernaldez, both friends of Columbus, speak of him, the for-
mer as " Christophorus quidam Colonus vir Ligur " that is,
Christopher Columbus a Genoese and the latter as " un hombre
de tierra de Genova" a man from Genoese territory. It must
be remembered that all of these authors wrote within forty years
from the discovery of America. It is evident, then, that in Spain
they knew nothing of the origin, parentage, and birthplace of
Columbus. Later biographers either copied the older ones or
formed theories of their own, which only made it more difficult
to extricate the truth from the web of conjecture with which it
is interwoven.

During the interminable law-suits undertaken in 1578 (when
the direct line of male descendants of Columbus was extin-
guished) to decide to whom the titles, revenues, etc., should go,
it was ascertained beyond cavil that the name of Christopher

482 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

Columbus's father was Dominic. This, and our knowledge that
he had two brothers named Bartholomew and James, afford us
clues which, in connection with documents now in our possession,
will enable us to ascertain the place of his nativity, his grand-
father's name, and that he had another brother named Giovanni
Pellegrino (who died young) and a sister called Bianchineta. It
is here well to note that as early as 1666 one Gianbattista
Pavesi had attempted to prove, from documents then extant in
Genoa and Savona, that Columbus was born in the former city,
but had been an inhabitant of the latter. His work was never
published, and is lost, except a few sheets lately found by a
Genoese priest in the Galliera library. Pavesi's researches into
these documents had been prompted by a publication in which
Campi, of Piacenza, claimed that Columbus was born near that
city.

At the beginning of this century Tommaso Belloro, Gianbat-
tista Belloro, and Father Spotorno made new researches in the
civic archives of Genoa and Savona, and unearthed documents
abundantly sufficient to prove that the discoverer of America
had lived at different times in both cities. But it was only four
or five years ago that the indefatigable and learned paleographer
and antiquarian, the Marquis Marcello Staglieno, of Genoa, was
able to show the world, with documents of unimpeachable au-
thenticity by him discovered, the missing link in the chain of evi-
dence demonstrating that Columbus was a native of Genoa. In-
deed he succeeded not only in pointing out the exact spot on
which the great mariner was born and reared, but in reconstruct-
ing the plan of the city as it was in the fifteenth century, with
its squares, churches, and public buildings, and the streets and
their names. It is necessary to give some quotations from these
documents lest the strength of the argument should seem ex-
aggerated.

In Italy, during the fifteenth century, and to a great extent
to-day, almost every business transaction, to be legal, had to
pass through the hands of a notary. The transfer of real es-
tate, trust deeds, promissory notes, quittances and receipts,' sure-
ties, the hiring of a servant or apprentice, the renting of a house,
etc., were thus recorded by these public officers, who kept and
regularly deposited in the public archives files (filze) of copies of
all such transactions. To give an idea of the gigantic accu-
mulation of such documents it will be enough to say that those
of the city of Genoa alone, which have escaped the ravages of
time, now fill seventeen large rooms or halls. There are of these

1892.] THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. 483

15,000 files, the work of some 600 notaries. Some of them are
700 years old. The subject of the birthplace of Columbus must
have, we will all agree, historical interest and importance if
venerable antiquarians, historians, paleographers (among them our
American H. Harrisse, from whom I borrowed these details)
spent days, months, and years among these dusty papers, written
in characters illegible to the uninitiated, with the primary object
in view of revealing to the world of to-day the particulars of
Columbus's life during his infancy and boyhood. Let us now see
what these documents tell us of his birthplace.

On the 26th of January, 1501, the following document, drawn
by Thomas de Moneglia, notary, was presented in court at
Savona for the purpose of enabling one Titius, through what
we would now call a vender's lien given to his father by Domi-
nic Columbus, to secure possession of a certain piece of real
estate sold by said Titius's deceased father to Dominic Colum-
bus, whose three sons were named Christopher, Bartholomew, and
James. I translate from the Latin : " To-day in the afternoon
Titius, who is juridically known by that name, in the presence
of his honor the Vicar and Magistrate of Savona, holding court
according to law in the court-house of the corporation of Savona,
at his own customary judge's seat, says and propounds that he
had caused to be cited to-day and at this hour Moneto Rodazio
and Emanuele Rubato, here present, inasmuch as they are neigh-
bors, and are acquainted with the place of dwelling of Chris-
topher, Bartholomew, and James Columbus, sons and heirs of
Dominic Columbus, deceased, in order to gather and have infor-
mation about them according to the statutes concerning those
who fail to appear in court when legally summoned. Said
Moneto and Emanuele, as above commanded and summoned in
their capacity of neighbors, having been sworn and interrogated
about them, together and separately, affirmed and affirm under
oath, and as solemnly as possible, that Christopher, Bartholomew,
and James Columbus, sons and heirs of said Dominic Columbus,
their deceased father, have long ago left the city of Savona, and
the territory over which it has jurisdiction, and gone beyond
Pisa and Nice of Provence, and are now living on Spanish terri-
tory, as it is notorious, etc., etc." It is not necessary, to trans-
late further. This legal document speaks assuredly of the father
of the discoverer of America and of his three sons, the truth
of which becomes more apparent if we examine another paper
pertaining to the same lawsuit, wherein James Columbus is de-
scribed as Jacobum dictum Diegum i.e., James called Diego

484 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

for we know that in Spain he went by that name. The same
paper tells us also that 250 lire (local money) were due by
Dominic Columbus on account of two plots of land bought by
him of complainant's father, and which complainant sought to
recover.

Let us now look for the deed of sale of the land, and it may
tell us at what precise date Columbus's father was living in Savo-
na. The document given above is dated the 26th of January,
1501. We look through all the files of the Savona archives from
year to year backward, and we find not a line speaking of the
family of Columbus in the papers belonging to the years 1500,
1499, 1498, 1497, 1496, 1495, 1494, 1493, and 1492. But when
we reach 1491 we meet with a receipt for fifty lire given by
Dominic Columbus, a citizen of Genoa, weaver of cloth and the
son of John, deceased, to one Nicolo Rusca, with the consent of
his son James. From which document we learn first, that Chris-
topher Columbus's father was a weaver by trade ; second, that
Christopher's grandfather was named John ; third, that his
brother James had not yet left Italy in 1491 ; fourth, that Chris-
topher himself and his brother Bartholomew were no longer at
home, because otherwise they too would have been required
to give their consent ; fifth, that the father Dominic was, when
he gave the receipt, a citizen of Genoa.

Nothing more is found about the four Columbuses until,
going backward, we reach the year 1484. Among the documents
of this year there is one, dated September 10, which begins thus:
" James Columbus, the son of Dominic, a citizen of Genoa, of
his own accord gives and hires himself out as a servant and as
a pupil to learn the art of weaving cloth, etc." Thus, while the
first document tells us that the family had at some period lived
in Savona, the second and the fifth show that it was not living
there in 1491 or in 1484. Otherwise Dominic would not have
been denominated simply a citizen of Genoa. But on the i/th
of August, 1481, the family had its domicile in that city, for in
a document of that date it is said that Dominic Columbus, a citi-
zen of Genoa and an inhabitant of Savona, rents out a country
house to Giovanni, etc. Christopher Columbus's father had then
emigrated from Genoa to Savona. Continuing our researches we
meet with an important document which will make us acquainted
with the mother of the discoverer of America, and tell us about
their old home in Genoa. It is dated u In the year from our
Saviour's birth one thousand four hundred and seventy-seven,
on Thursday, the tenth inditio, and the twenty-third day of Jan-

1892.] THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. 485

uary." It begins " Suzana, daughter of a certain James Fonta-
narossa, and the wife of Dominic Columbus, a weaver of woollen
cloth, knowing and considering that said Dominic Columbus, her
husband, intends to sell or alienate to Anthony Garesio a house,
with a garden in the rear, located in the quarter of St. Stephen,
in the noble city of Genoa, in St. Andrew's Street, adjacent to
which house is, on one side, that of Nicholas Paravania, and on
the other that of the heirs of a certain Anthony Bondi, having
in front the public street, and behind the city walls, etc., etc."
This document is nothing more than the legal authorization
given by the wife to her husband to sell the house on which
she had a mortgage to secure the dowry she had brought him
at the time of their marriage. Old Dominic did not carry out,
as we shall see, his intention of selling the house. When we
reach the year 1474 we find the deed of sale given by that Se-
jus who is mentioned in the document dated 1501, quoted above,
to " Dominic Columbus, a weaver of cloth, living in Savona."
Another document, dated Savona, August 26, 1472, begins :
" Dominic Columbus, a weaver, living in Savona, and his son
Christopher Columbus, etc., etc." They had bought wool on
credit, and this is a promissory note by which father and son
bind themselves to pay for it the sum of 140 lire. The impor-
tance of the document consists mainly in this, that it tells us
that Christopher on the date mentioned was in Savona, though
he was not actually living there. For another document, dated
the 2Oth of March, 1472, expressly tells us that he was from
Genoa.

Besides the house in St. Andrew's Street Dominic Columbus
owned another located elsewhere in Genoa. The document by
which Dominic's wife ratifies the sale of it is dated Savona, the
7th of August, 1473, and begins as follows : " Suzana, daughter of
James Fontanarossa, deceased, and wife of Dominic Columbus,
of Genoa, and Christopher and John Pellegrino, sons of said
Dominic and Suzana, etc., etc.," which teaches us that at one
time Christopher Columbus had three living brothers. John
Pellegrino's name not appearing in any of the foregoing docu-
ments, or anywhere else, naturally leads us to the conclusion
that he must have died young. Another document, dated Sep-
tember 10, 1471, by which he goes security for one Pasquale
Fontanabuona, shows that " Dominic Columbus, an inhabitant of
Savona" was living in this city already at that date. His name
appears in two other papers, one dated the second of March,
and the other the twenty-fifth of October, 1470. In the first he

486 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

is designated as " Dominic Columbus, from Genoa," in the second
as " Dominic Columbus, a citizen of Genoa."

It may be therefore laid down as certain that the family had
removed from Genoa to Savona some time between the twenty-
eighth of November, 1470, and the tenth of September, 1471.
For while we see Dominic called an inhabitant of Savona on the
latter date i.e., on September 10, 1471 in a registry of weavers
of woollen cloth of Genoa, found in the archives of that city and
dated the twentieth of November, 1470, figures the name of
Dominic Columbus* In 1466 he lived in his own dwelling-house
in St. Andrew's Street, the same which his wife authorized him
to sell in 1477. This is proved by a deed of sale given by John
Columbus (probably a relative of Dominic) to Francis Boverio,
and warranted by "Dominic Columbus, son of John, deceased,
who is a weaver of cloth, and an inhabitant of Genoa, in the
street just beyond the gate of St. Andrew" The deed is dated
on the 1 7th day of January, 1466. On the 27th of March, 1451,
he was already a citizen of Genoa ; for in a deed drawn on
that date "Dominic Columbus, a citizen of Genoa," figures as
a witness.

Most of the foregoing documents were already known at the
beginning of the present century. But as it is certain that Chris-
topher Columbus was born earlier than 1451, the place of his
nativity was yet in doubt inasmuch as it was not known with
any degree of certainty where was the home of his parents pre-
vious to 1451. In 1884 the Marquis Marcello Staglieno was hard
at work among the ancient notarial manuscripts of Genoa
endeavoring to unearth unknown documents which would
throw new light on the interesting subject. The heart of the
devoted paleographer must have throbbed with pleasurable ex-
citement during the few minutes necessary for his practised
eye to decipher the peculiar characters and the quaint forensic
Latin of the' following document :

"In the name of the Lord. Amen. Peter Verzio, of Fonta-
nabuona, son of William, deceased, an inhabitant of the afore-
mentioned place, has promised and solemnly agrees with Dominic
Columbus, son of John, weaver of woollen cloth, who is a contract-
ing party, that Anthony, son of deceased Ludovico de Loverone,
from Ponte Cicanie, who is about twelve years old, will for the
next five years remain and persevere with said Dominic as his
servant and pupil in learning and exercising the art of weaving
woollen cloth ; that he will not leave him during all that time,
that he will care for and mind his goods, and that he will not

1892.] THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. 487

commit any theft against said Dominic his master. Vice-versa :
the said Dominic, accepting the above-mentioned stipulations,
promises to said Peter, here present, to bind himself to feed and
clothe, in his own house, said Anthony during all that time, be he
sick or well, as it is the custom to do with similar apprentices,
and to teach him, to the best of his ability, the said art of
weaving cloth. It is, however, really and distinctly understood
between the contracting parties that if during the time of said
five years the plague should break out in Genoa, then and in
such a case it shall be lawful for said Anthony to quit his mas-
ter and run whithersoever it shall please him ; that the plague
over, he shall be bound and obliged to come back and serve
his master during said five years, or what may remain of them,
in such a way that the time of his absence shall not be counted
in the computation of the five years. Given in Genoa, on the
public square of the ducal palace, by its portals, in the year
from our Lord's nativity one thousand four hundred and thirty-
nine, on the first inditio, according to the Genoese reckoning, on
Wednesday, the first day of April, in presence of James Ma-
zurro, son of Stephen, deceased, notary, and of Peter Anthony
Narisse, son of John, deceased, both citizens of Genoa and law-
ful witnesses."

From this important document we learn first, that Christopher
Columbus's grandfather was yet living on the first of April, 1439,
for otherwise the word deceased would have been added, accord-
ing to law, to his name ; second, that Christopher's father was
already in 1439 a full-fledged weaver of woollen cloth, having a
manufacturing establishment of his own and doing business for
himself, though his father John was yet living ; third, that he
must have been married, because otherwise he would not have
bound himself to lodge, feed, and clothe a boy of twelve years
of age in his own house ; fourth, that he had already acquired,
very likely with his own industry, the house and garden in St.
Andrew's Street which he had hypothecated at the time of his
marriage.

Inasmuch as Christopher Columbus was born not earlier than
1435 or H36, it follows that he must have been born on St.
Andrew's Street, in Genoa, at the residence of his parents. This
home of Columbus's childhood, after his mother's death, was hy-
pothecated in favor of James Bavarello a cheese-dealer who
married Bianchineta, the daughter of Dominic and the sister of
Christopher Columbus to secure the dowry promised by the
father to the daughter on the occasion of her marriage. Only

488 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

one son was born of this marriage, named Pantalino, who in
1517, being then twenty-seven years of age, sold the house which
he inherited from his mother to his own father, who had mar-
ried a second time. All of these particulars are gleaned from
the deed of sale, dated the 26th of October, 1517, lately dis-
covered by the Marquis Marcello Staglieno. Although Dominic
Columbus owned two houses in Genoa, we know that the one
in St. Andrew's Street was his home, from the fact that there
he had his workshop as given in the description of the property
in two of the foregoing documents, and from the fact also that
his address is given in what we should nowadays call the assess-
ment books of the city.

Let us now go to the Carroggio dritto di Ponticello, the
name by which the ancient street of St. Andrew is at present
called, and examine with the aid of history the premises on
which Christopher Columbus spent his boyhood. We enter from
the narrow street a vaulted workshop, with low ceiling and mas-
sive walls of stone taken from the neighboring quarries. It is
of comparatively spacious dimensions, and contains three or four
hand-looms for the weaving of fine woollen cloth. Alongside of
it is a smaller apartment for the carding of the wool, and an-
other for cleaning and assorting it, and still another for the
storing of the raw material. Men sit at the looms, boy appren-
tices card the wool or prepare the warp, and robust, black-eyed
maidens preside at the wooden spinning-wheels. We scarcely
hear the shuffling sound of the shuttles or the buzzing of the
wheels, for the merry toilers sing a trio The Crusader s Exploits ;
bassi the weavers, tenori the carders, soprani the spinners, while
the hired laborers in the back room join in the chorus, keeping
time with their flails falling rythmically on the wool which
they prepare for the carders. We are in a factory of the fif-
teenth century. A broad, open stairway leads us to the upper
floor, where, in the living rooms, the mother is found busy with
her household affairs, and the son Christopher, who has just re-
turned from the school which the wool-workers' guild have estab-
lished and support in the neighboring abbey of St. Stephen.
The fragrance of ripening fruits wafted over by the breezes of
the Mediterranean invites us to' look out of the window upon
the arbor of grape-vines which extends to the end of the garden,
where walls six feet thick answer the double purpose of a fence
to the Columbian home and of a bulwark to the proud city.
Right and left oranges, almonds, apricots, lemons, stunted date-
palms, and flowering shrubs fill every nook and corner of the

1892.] THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. 489

small rus in urbe. A well of cyclopean dimensions supplies the
water for the shop, the house, and the garden. This description
is drawn partly from imagination, but is true to history.
Many such houses, as old as that of Columbus, are yet to be
seen in that part of Genoa known to this day as Borgo de La-
naiuoli i.e., wool-workers' quarter.

It remains to dispose of the claims of Cogoleto as the birth-
place of Columbus, which have again been put forward in a work
published in 1887 at the expense of that town. They are based
principally on a document purporting to be the last will and
testament of Dominic Columbus, dated Cogoleto, the 23d of Au-
gust, 1449. The original has never been produced. But there are
two copies of it, in one of which the testator is described as
Dominic Columbus, of Cogoleto, the son of Bartholomew, which
would prove conclusively that the said testator was not the fa-
ther of the discoverer of America, as it is certain that the latter's
grandfather was named John and not Bartholomew. But the
Cogoletans insist that the other copy, which is carefully pre-
served in their public archives, is the only genuine one, as it has
annexed to it the following:

"A.D. 1586, it being the eighteenth inditio, on the 24th
of October, I, undersigned Anthony Clavo de Voragine, in
the presence of the two noblemen, John Baptist Spinola and
Gregory Torre, of Genova, and of Bernard Colombo, of Cogoleto,
do hereby declare the foregoing to be a statement which,
whole, uncorrupted, and in no way vitiated, is now in my pos-
session ; of which I made a faithful copy, adding and suppress-
ing nothing which could change the sense or meaning ; that I
have with diligence and attention listened to the reading of the
original written and signed by Notary Augustine Clavo ; and
that, having found them to agree, I signed my name and placed
my notarial seal to all the foregoing.

[SEAL.] " ANTHONY CLAVO."

The will itself begins thus : " In the name of Christ. Amen.
In the year from his birth 1449, it being the eighth inditio, on
the 23d of August," etc. It is not necessary to quote further
to prove that the will is a forgery, or at least is interpolated.

Harrisse had already pointed out that, of the three witnesses
to the certificate of Anthony Clavo, the first and the second,
i.e., John Baptist Spinola and Gregory Torre, were employed by
the third, Bernard Colombo, to help him prosecute a lawsuit by
which he was endeavoring to get possession of the estate and
titles of Christopher Columbus. This is proved by a promissory

49 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

note given by Bernard Colombo the 3d of June, 1587, to John
Baptist Spinola and Gregory Torre as an attorney's fee. Had
the certificate been an honest transaction, some other citizen of
Cogoleto would have been called to witness it beside John Baptist
Spinola, Gregory Torre, and Bernard Colombo, all three interested
parties, in whose interest the copy of the will itself was made. A
glaring anomaly was also noticed by another critic, namely, in the
words "it being the eighteenth inditio." The inditio was a period
of fifteen years, the first year of which was called the 1st inditio
(inditio prima), the second year the 2d inditio, etc., up to the
1 5th year, which was called the' I5th inditio, after which recurred
again the 1st inditio, 2d inditio, etc. But there never was an
eighteenth inditio. Important legal documents always gave the
year from our Lord's nativity and the corresponding inditio in
their date. A notary would not have been caught giving an
absurd inditio. Neither could the expression " eighteenth in-
ditio " have been a lapsus calami, as it is written in letters and
in extenso, and not in 'numbers. This anomaly led me to look
into the date of the will itself, which is : " In the year from
his (Christ's) birth 1449, it being the eighth inditio." Now, the
year 1449 corresponded, not to the 8th inditio but to the
1 2th, according to the general way of reckoning, or to the nth,
according to the Genoese reckoning, which lagged one year be-
hind the general. In fact, we know from the Roman Breviary
and from numberless documents of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, that the year 1582 corresponded to the loth inditio.
If we count backward to A.D. 1449, we shall see that it corre-
sponded to the I2th or nth inditio. It is easy to imagine how
Bernard Colombo (who, pretending to be the descendant of a
near relative of the discoverer of America, had advanced his
claim in the courts of Spain to be declared his lawful heir, and
had been rejected in 1584), on returning to Cogoleto, aided
and abetted by two unscrupulous and influential noblemen, in-
vented spurious documents upon which to base a plea for a
rehearing of his case.

The partisans of Cogoleto have produced a second document
in the shape of what we would call a general power-of-attorney,
given in 1482 by one Bartholomew Colombo, son of Dominic,
deceased, in his name and in the name of his brother Christo-
pher (who, the document says, was then in Spain), to a certain
Bartholomew Mirone. As it is well known that Christopher
Columbus, the discoverer, in 1482 was in Portugal and not in
Spain, the document proves nothing except the strange coinci-

1892.] THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. 491

dence that at that time there was a man in Cogoleto named
Dominic Colombo, the father of two sons named Bartholomew
and Christopher, while in the city of Genoa there was another
bearing the same family and baptismal name, the father also of
two sons called Christopher and Bartholomew. But if we reflect
that in the fifteenth century there were not less than two hun-
dred families in northern Italy, within a radius of one hundred
miles from Genoa, of the name of Colombo, the coincidence will
not appear startling. That one of them, at least (possibly dis-
tantly connected with that of Christopher Columbus), was domi-
ciled in Cogoleto during the latter part of the fifteenth and the
beginning of the sixteenth century, there is no doubt. Ferdi-
nand Columbus, the son of Christopher, while travelling through
Italy in 1520 stopped in Cogoleto on his way from Genoa to
Savona, and there found two centenarians of the name of Colom-
bo, who, however, knew nothing of their relationship to his
father.

When Bernard Colombo, of Cogoleto, was about to start for \
Spain a second time, to present his claims once more to the es-
tate and titles of the great discoverer, he was given in 1586, by
order of the Genoese authorities, the following curious letter of
introduction to the Republic's ambassador at the court of Spain,
Gianbattista Doria, which, it is claimed by the Cogoletans,
proves that Christopher Columbus was a native of their town :

" Columbus of Cogoleto, who is so great in Spain, as you know,
has ordered, we have heard, among other things, that, to per-
petuate the memory of his name, a family bearing that name be
maintained in Genoa, and that he assigned a good income for
that purpose ; furthermore, it seems that he designated (the said
family) as his heirs, his relatives and the nearest of kin bearing
his own name. It is said that in Madrid a litigation is going
on about this inheritance between certain Spaniards of the same
name and some of our subjects who pretend to be the true
relatives of the testator. Because this affair is of great impor-
tance, and also because it is right to protect our subjects, it is
our will that you procure a copy of said testament, which it will
be easy to get from Doctor Scipione Caneva, who is a member
of the court, and that the foregoing being true, you endeavor,
not only to obtain execution of the legacy mentioned above
but also that you help, as much as you can, our said Genoese
subjects, as we know you will do, better than we could indicate
to you. Send us, then, a report of the turn affairs will take."
From the expressions " we have heard," " it is said," " it seems,"

492 THE BIRTHPLACE OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

" the foregoing being true," it is evident that the writer of this
letter knew nothing of Christopher Columbus, his testament or
his relatives, and that therefore he desired to be non-committal.
But, as a true diplomatist, he begins by taking for granted an
important point in question, and to help his proteg uses the
expression " Columbus of Cogoleto," etc. As this letter is dated
October the /th, 1586, just fourteen days after the fraudulent
certificate of the fraudulent will was drawn in the presence of
the two noblemen and Bernard Colombo, it is easy to imagine
these three worthies, armed with the forged will and certificate,
closeted together with the Genoese minister of foreign affairs,
and dictating or suggesting the remarkable letter which begins
" Columbus of Cogoleto, who is so great in Spain," etc.

Bernard Colombo's character, as established historically, fits in
with the criticism here made of the foregoing documents. Dur-
ing the first stage of the cause celebre he modestly claimed to
be a descendant of a grand-uncle of Christopher Columbus.
But having ascertained that this degree of consanguinity with
his namesake gave him no right to his inheritance, he thereafter
declared himself the grand or great-grandson of Bartholomew, the
brother of the discoverer. I need not say that he lost his suit.

In 1850 a priest of Cogoleto, who thought himself a descen-
dant of Columbus's family, caused to be placed on what he be-
lieved to be the ancient home of the famous mariner the follow-
ing pompous inscription :

" Hospes siste gradum : fuit hie lux prima Columbo

Orbe viro maiori : Heu ! nimis arcta domus.
Unus erat Mundus ; duo sunt, ait Iste : fuere."

The inscription should be taken down.

L. A. DUTTO.

Jackson, Miss.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

1892.] THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OP THE CROSS. 493

THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS.*

THE life of St. John of the Cross exemplifies the truth that
the spirit of Christianity is the spirit of the Cross. There are
few who have reached so perfect a union with God as he. . From
earliest childhood till he laid down his life in the unhospitable
convent at Ubeda this union never ceased, continuing through
sterility of soul as well as in the wonderful consolations vouch-
safed him. But never did he desire, never was he permitted, to
be without crosses : from the world, from his brethren, and,
heaviest of all, from his superiors.

He was the youngest child of one Gonzales Yepes, a pious
man who dwelt in poverty in the town of Fontibere, in old Cas-
tile. Here St. John was born in 1542. He was still a child
when his father died, leaving himself and two other children as
a sole legacy to their devoted mother. Entirely destitute, the
widow went to Medina with her children, there hoping to find
means of support for herself and her family. It was here in
Medina, at the college of the Jesuits, that the young John Yepes,
already remarkable for his youthful sanctity, made the first steps
on the road to the higher education. The attention of the ad-
ministrator of the city hospital was attracted by the extraordi-
nary piety and active charity of the youth, and he employed
him in serving the sick. This was most pleasing work to St.
John, and not only was the care and attention he gave to the sick
remarked, but people wondered at the facility with which one so
young gained souls to God. His labors in the hospital did not
cause him to discontinue his studies at the college, where he had
endeared himself to his professors, who were drawn to him by
his burning love of Goo 1 , his charity to those in need, and for
his talent and industry as a student.

His fervent desire to consecrate himself to God took shape
when, in his twenty-second year, he left the college of the Jesuits
to assume the religious habit of a Carmelite friar at Medina.
Novice never gave greater proof of obedience, humility, fervor,
and love of the cross than did John during his probation. And
there was no abatement of. his fervor after the termination of his
novitiate. On the contrary his zeal for his own and his neigh-

* A Thought for Every Day of the Year^ from St. John of the Cross. Compiled by Miss
Susan L. Emery. Boston : Flynn & Mahony.
VOL. LIV. 32

494 THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS. [Jan.,

bor's salvation increased not only with but in excess of his
years.

From the Carmelite Convent at Medina he went to Sala-
manca to pursue the higher course of studies. At the University
of Salamanca we see this remarkable man, already possessing
spiritual gifts of the highest order, as well as a brilliant intellect,
choosing to appear lower than the lowest ; housing himself in a
miserable hole beneath the convent dormitory, contentedly sleep-
ing on a bare board, accustoming himself to the sparest and
meanest diet. And it was here, at Salamanca, that repeated medi-
tation on the sufferings of our dear Lord, together with the
plentiful graces he received at the Holy Sacrifice, made him con-
ceive the desire of a still greater seclusion from the world than he
already possessed.

He first thought of entering the order of the Carthusians.
While deliberating upon this step, St. Teresa, having heard of
him, expressed a desire to see him. She fully understood his
motives, admired the spirit that prompted his purpose, and told
him that it was in the order of Mount Carmel that God had
called him to sanctify himself. " I have received authority from
the general of the order/' she further told him, " to found two
reformed houses of men, and you yourself should be the first
instrument of so great a work."

The two saints found that there was perfect agreement be-
tween them, and John of the Cross, as he was now called, was
one of the two first barefooted Carmelites of St. Teresa's Re-
form. The first monastery was in a mean house in the village
of Durvelle. Here he was soon joined by a number of his
brethren of the mitigated observance, who renewed their pro-
fession on the first Sunday of Advent, 1568. In this manner be-
gan the Discalced Carmelite Friars, whose institute was approved
by Pope St. Pius V., and confirmed by Gregory XIII. in 1580.
It was not long before the sanctity of the monastery presided
over by St. John came to be known all over Spain, and other
houses of Discalced Carmelite Friars arose in rapid succession,
and the reform flourished in various parts of the kingdom.

St. John now passed through the first of a long series of
spiritual deprivations. Afflicted by interior trouble of mind,
and for a time by scruples and a disrelish of spiritual exercises,
which yet he was careful never to forsake, he failed not by ex-
ample and exhortation to inspire the religious under his charge
with that perfect spirit of solitude suited to their state, humility
and love of mortification. In his great mystical work, entitled

1892.] THE CENTENARY GF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS. 495

The Obscure Night, he describes with deep feeling what a soul
passes through in the state of interior aridity, when it is appar-
ently forsaken by God. How well he could appreciate the
affliction of a soul deprived of all consolation we may learn
from this, that " so violent was his sorrow in the state of priva-
tion that it seemed he must have died of grief if God had not
supported him by his grace." These severe trials of St. John
always preceded hours of much interior comfort, when his soul
would be as it were transported, the divine sweetness dispelling
the bitter desolation from which he had suffered.

Interior troubles were not the only ones that gave him the
royal right to be called of " the Cross." From the first the
Carmelite Friars of the mitigated rule looked upon the reforms
of St. Teresa with distrust, even though made with the approba-
tion of the general of the order, as well as with that of the
bishops. Their opposition became loud and open on the occa-
sion of the reforms introduced by St. John in the convent of
nuns at Avila, where he went to be confessor in 1576. A chap-
ter of the Carmelites met at Placentia and condemned St. John
as an apostate from the order. They finally got possession of
him and imprisoned him in a dark cell of the Carmelite convent
at Toledo, where he was kept for nine months, subjected to the
crudest treatment, the only nourishment allowed him during this
time being a very scant allowance of bread, fish, and water.
But in his imprisonment his consolations from Heaven were so
great as to cause him afterwards to say : " Be not surprised if I
show so great a love for sufferings ; God gave me a high idea
of their merit and value when I was in the prison at Toledo."
His escape from the prison, if not miraculous, was at least very
romantic.

A revulsion in his favor, resulting from the influence of St.
Teresa, and the evident delusion of his persecutors, soon took
place, and after his escape he was made superior of the convent
of Calvary in Andalusia. After this he founded still other con-
vents of his order, and finally, in 1588, was made the order's first
provincial in Spain. During all these years he never ceased at
any time his contemplation of divine things, especially the
Passion of our holy Redeemer, oftentimes becoming so absorbed
in God as to be obliged to offer violence to himself to treat of
temporal affairs. And there were occasions on which his very
countenance, beaming with the love of God, struck awe into the
hearts of beholders, turning them from the pursuit of evil to a
consecration of themselves to God. It is said of him that " his

496 THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS. [Jan.,

heart seemed an immense fire of love which could not contain
itself within his breast, but showed itself in these exterior
marks."

Not less wonderful was his love for his neighbor, especially
for the poor, the sick, and sinners, whom, in imitation of our
Lord, he made in fact as well as in word his dearest brothers.
When expostulated with on what seemed to be his excessive
charity to a man who had brought poverty upon himself by his
bad habits, he replied that our Lord had opened heaven to
man by the shedding of his precious blood on the cross, although
man had been utterly undeserving. And when reproached with
the ungratefulness of one whom he had assisted, he reminded
the fault-finder that our Lord knew that but one of the ten
lepers would be grateful, yet he healed them all. As St. John
loved God without stint or measure, so loved he his neighbor.

Only those who know God's more unusual ways with select
souls can even faintly comprehend St. John's sufferings during his
periods of spiritual desolation ; and to this suffering was added
the ill-will of many who should have been his warmest friends,
so that very much of his life was made one long martyrdom,
which God was pleased to finish by a second persecution from
his brethren just before his death.

There were two fathers of the Reform who declared them-
selves his enemies, pursuing him with envy and malice under the
pretence of being animated by holy zeal. Proud of their learn-
ing and puffed up by the applause given their oratory, they neg-
lected the austerities of their rule. St. John, while provincial
of Andalusia, admonished them for their irregularity as having a
tendency to the destruction of religious discipline, and paving
the way to moral disorder. Finding his admonitions unheeded,
St. John forbade the unhappy twain to preach, bidding them
remain within their convents. So far from submitting, they ex-
cited themselves to greater hatred of the saint, and declared
publicly that they were unreasonably impeded in their work for
the salvation of souls. One of them ran over the whole province
to beg for and trump up accusations against the servant of God,
and boasted that he had sufficient proofs to. have him expelled
the order.

In the meanwhile St. John had rendered himself offensive to
the chapter of the order at Madrid because of his opposition to
the severe measures taken against Father Gratian, who had
greatly assisted St. Teresa in her reforms. Envy and jealousy,
now greatly aroused, deprived St. John of all his employments,

1892.] THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS. 497

and banished him to the destitute convent of Pegnuela, in the
Morena mountains.

St. John welcomed his banishment as but another means of
uniting himself closer to God. Forsaken by everybody, his let-
ters burned as soon as received the receivers afraid of being in-
volved in his disgrace the sweetness of the divine love and
peace overflowed his soul and filled him with interior joy, which
increased in proportion as he was abandoned by creatures.
"The soul of one who serves God," he says, "always swims in
joy, always keeps holiday, is always in her palace of jubilation,
ever singing with fresh ardor and fresh pleasure a new song
of joy and love."

The charges against St. John fell to the ground as soon as
the matter was laid before the proper tribunals ; for even if they
had been true, they amounted to nothing that deserved censure.
The stor*m had ceased, friends again came to his side, but John
of the Cross was weary and sick. He was but forty-nine years
old. Twenty-eight years of his life had been spent in affliction,
in distresses of the mind, and of the body, and of the soul. He
was now ready to render account of his painful stewardship,
for he saw that God was about to take him down from that
cross to which he had so generously nailed himself. Tardy sym-
pathy directed that he be removed from Pegnuela to a convent
where he could be cared for. Two convents were proposed him,
Bae'za and Ubeda : the former presided over by a holy man, his
friend ; the latter by the man who had denounced him as an
apostate from his order and a " companion of devils." And this
unparalleled lover of the suffering Christ chose Ubeda !

It is difficult to tell with patience what now befell John of the
Cross. He was thrust by the enemy into a noisome cell ; his
body, long in a state of pitiable feebleness, soon became a mass
of ulcerated sores, forced to find its resting-place on a rude
straw bed. Almost deprived of food, subjected to harsh re-
proaches, he lingered on in heroic love and patience. A few
days before his death the provincial of the Reformed Carmelites
happened to come to Ubeda. Horrified at the barbarous usage
John had received, he instantly caused his release and declared
that such an example of invincible patience and virtue ought to
be public, not only for the edification of his brethren but for
that of the whole world.

Miracles were not infrequent in John's life, and it is small
wonder that great ones attended the death of such a man ; no
one of them greater, perhaps, than the true repentance of his

498 THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS. [Jan.,

last and bitterest persecutor. On the evening of the I4th of
December, 1591, three hundred years ago, having cried out in a
glad voice, " Glory be to God !" and then softly said, " Lord,
into thy hands I commend my soul," St. John of the Cross
went joyfully to God.

Many who know our saint through the Life of St. Teresa
have, no doubt, thought in their hearts what we have heard a
devout person say : " Oh, how much I should like to know some-
thing of the works of St. John of the Cross ! " The incident
which excited such a desire was the sight of his mystical works,
translated into English and published not very many years ago.
We may imagine that the mere sight of books filled with mat-
ters of high contemplation would not of itself move a casual
observer to the desire of reading and understanding their con-
tents ; rather the life of a saint would appeal to the mere
taste for reading more directly than a volume or two of collected
works. But the fact is that, besides the taste for feeding the
heart with the instruction of a saint's life, there is in many souls
an abiding recollection of the sweetnesses tasted in the practice
of a devotion; and it is this recollection which draws them on
to desire more of a higher understanding, .and that intelligence
of the better gifts which St. Paul encourages all Christians to
emu&te.

The book just published by Miss Susan L. Emery is a bou-
quet of flowers which she has culled for devout persons from the
works of St. John ; and she presents them at present, in view
of the tercentenary of St. John of the Cross, which was celebrat-
ed in all Carmelite churches and convents, from the 22d day
of November till the I4th of December, 1891.

The maxims have been selected and arranged so as to offer
a thought for every day of the year. They all derive a charac-
ter from the saint's own mind and heart, inasmuch as they bear
not only the fragrance of high spiritual devotion and detachment,
of sublime confidence and the sweetness proper to mystical love,
but, in particular, that reminiscence of Calvary, that sublime
Christian patience and self-crucifixion, which it was the lot of
St. John to show forth in his own person, as few saints have
been called upon to experience or to exhibit in their lives.

This is a special recommendation of this little book to devout
souls. Are there any, among those aspiring to the gift of devo-
tion, whom God does not prepare and dispose for it by this
probation of suffering ? Indeed, in the world at large, there is
enough of suffering and trial to prepare the ground for a count-

1892.] THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS. 499

less generation of saints, who are verily the kingdom of Christ
upon earth. Nor would a truly, devout soul be without this
share in the Cross of Christ. It is especially to this inner senti-
ment and sympathy of devoted hearts that the maxims of St.
John appeal, in a vein altogether his own.

" True love," he says (page 49), " accepts with perfect resig-
nation, and in the same spirit, and even with joy, whatever
comes to it from the hands of the Beloved, whether prosperity
or adversity yea, and even chastisements, such as he shall be
pleased to send, for, as the apostle saith, * Perfect charity casteth
out fear.' " And again (page 45), " Exterior trials and tribula-
tions destroy and purge away the imperfect and evil habits of
the soul."

High contemplative as he is, he touches, in a way which
comes home to every one, whether in the domestic sphere or in
the religious life, the truest principles of self-abnegation and
mortification, on which, of course, all devotion and religious
spirit is grounded. " God would rather have from you the low-
est degree of obedience and subjection than all those services
you would render him " (page 34). " To restrain the tongue and
the thoughts, and to set the affections regularly on God, quickly
sets the soul on fire in a divine way " (page 53).

And what is the blissful result of all this, even here below ?
None know better than those who have sunk deepest in the
lowliness of self-crucifixion and annihilation. The result is the
most unbounded confidence in the good Father, who loves us as
the apple of his eye ; and, by this door of confidence in him,
everything that belongs to him comes to us. " The heavens are
mine, the earth is mine, and the nations are mine ; mine are the
just, and the sinners are mine ; mine are the angels ; the Mother
of God and all things are mine. God himself is mine and for
me, because Christ is mine and all for me. What, then, dost
thou ask for? what dost thou seek for, O my soul? All is thine,
all is for thee ; do not take less, nor rest with the crumbs which
fall from the table of thy Father. Go forth and exult in thy
glory, hide thyself in it and rejoice, and thou shalt obtain all
the desires of thy heart " (page 29).

This elegant little work, replete with spiritual food, comes at
a moment specially opportune. Besides the centenary of St.
John, now being celebrated in the Carmelite churches and mon-
asteries, the occasion, it appears, has arrived for a well-grounded
expectation of seeing the saint declared a doctor of the univer-
sal church. He would become the doctor of mystical theology.

500 THE CENTENARY OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS. [Jan.,

By that term we mean the divine science which has for its sub-
ject the more elevated operations of the spiritual life, and those
manifestations which God vouchsafes to a very small class of
souls, singularly devoted to him. We call it a small class for
two reasons : first, because, however numerous, it will always be
extremely limited compared with the general flock of Christian
souls ; secondly, because among those who by their desires and
opportunities are not far removed from it, there are always fewer
than there should be, since there are always some who will not
fulfil the last requirements of perfect mortification. Yet to all
Christians the mere knowledge of these manifestations, without
any actual experience, is of no slight advantage. The church in-
timates as much, quite significantly, when, on the feast of St.
Teresa, she says that the hearts of the faithful have been won-
derfully stimulated, by the knowledge of that saint's mystical
favors, to conceive the most ardent desire of celestial things.

Miss Emery's book contains some prayers for the use of
the faithful, particularly appropriate for St. John's tercentenary.
The Holy Father has granted indulgences for attendance at
those divine services, upon the observance of the usual condi-
tions. This book itself is, on the part of its compiler, a work
of devotion in more senses than one. She has undertaken the
translation for the benefit of the Carmelites, without receiving
anything herself save the spiritual benefits to accrue from her
own piety and self-sacrifice. We trust the book will be used
and recommended in all academies and convents, so as to reach
the hands of the devout Catholic laity and become a vade me-
cum of spiritual fervor.

1892.] A LEGEND OF THE RHINE. 501

A LEGEND OF THE RHINE.

THE crimson curtains opened in the East,

And from his chamber strode the awakened Day.
He ne'er before had smiled on richer feast

As fed his sight : for stretched before him lay
Green valleys jewelled rich with dewy spray,

And while his lustrous beams were gilding bright
The distant mountain summits and the gray

Old turrets on the Birbach Castle height.

Far off, the monastery's chime

Was telling sweet the hour of Prime ;

The world was waking from its sleep,

And Walther from his castle-keep

Was riding forth in armor clad,

His charger prancing, as if glad

To tell the world, with snorting breath :

We go to honor or to death.

But from the visor shone a face
More fitted 'for a softer case
Than plumed casque of icy steel ;
A face whose liquid eyes reveal
The yearnings of a soul within
Serene and free from taint of sin.

It was the first time that as knight

He rode to list in tourney-fight.

He feared, but rode as dreading nought :

He feared (not strength, for he had fought

The wild boar in its thicket-lair)

But old and dextrous knights to dare.

On, on he rode to 'Darmstadt ; while his steed

Had roused his pulse, and while the morning gust

Was breathing cheer of which his heart had need,
He rode unto a tournament unjust.

502 A LEGEND OF THE RHINE. [Jan.,

" I have no duty but to pray, and trust

In heaven's Queen to set the wrong aright.

Away with fear and doubt ! " said he. " If die I must,
I'll die no coward in my lady's sight."

But soldier's prayers are ever short, they say.

They pray not as the monks on bended knee,
But with their eyes aglow, as for the fray :

With sudden cross, with Benedicite,
With "Ave" brief, and briefer litany.

Not so with him ; he doffed his drooping crest,
Then loosed the rein and bade his horse go free ;

Then prayed the thoughts that fill a soldier's breast :

" O Blessed Virgin ! let me hear no sound

Except of war until my task be done ;
Let slaughter guide, and everything be drowned

In. streams of blood, till victory well-won
Shall win my lady-love ; or let the sun

Of death shine bright upon my lifeless heart.
Then let my faithful charger fret and run

Himself to death, his dying master's part."

It was beside the Virgin's Grotto where

Young Walther prayed that strange, that soldier's prayer :

A spot miraculous, and fair to see,

Where richest flowers and vines were growing free ;

Where weeping penitents were slow to leave,

But stayed and prayed for darkest sins to grieve.

'Twas here for so the legends say
That while continuing to pray
To her, enthralled he fell asleep
Into a slumber strange and deep.
And while he slept she loosed his casque
And mail, and donned them as a mask
To shroud herself from worldly eyes
And for the Knight to gain the prize.

Thus Victor, rode he home where cavalier
With shield and lance was richly decked ;

1892.] A LEGEND OF THE RHINE. 503

Where vassal, page, and peasant all appear
To hail him as their lord, and pay respect
Unto his bride, and with the trumpet-blast
To cheer her to his castle as she passed.

On, on, with joy and welcome calls,
Unto his father's marble halls

He leads his love, his life.
While march the mounted troops behind,
With troops the castle heights are lined,
While standards flutter in the wind,

He leads his bride, his wife.

Dismounting, then into her home she glides,

As some proud swan when o'er the lake it sails.

The gate is oped, the oaken door divides,

And through the arch the silver cornet hails
Her coming, and without* the rattling scales

Of mailed retainers and of mounting squires
Are ringing through the court, and choirs

Of maidens sing her praise, while she admires.

And so the wondrous Rhenish legend goes ;
I know not whence its wondrous story flows.
I know that prayers to Mary have availed
When weakly youths in war have been assailed ;
But offer her an " Ave " as the plight,
She'll give thee love she'll crown thee Knight.

HENRY EDWARD O'KEEFFE.

504 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

THE LOST LODE.

A STORY OF MEXICO.

FAR in the heart of the great Sierras that in wild and austere
majesty stretch their length of tossed and broken heights along
the western coast of Mexico lies the Espiritu Santo Mine. It is a
mine with a wonderful history the history of a bonanza running
through more than a century, of powerful families created and en-
riched by its wealth, and of a flourishing town, which built upon its
prosperity, fell into decay with its failure. For there came a
day when even the Espiritu Santo failed. The great bonanza,
which had lasted for a length of time almost unexampled even
in Mexican mines, disappeared, at length. Whether it was finally
worked out, or whether it had only been lost, as lodes are often
lost, no one could say. It was in the terrible period which the
people call " the times of the revolution " that the ore ceased to
pay ; and in this era of confusion and bloodshed, of suffering and
distress, financial collapse in all forms was too common to excite
surprise or comment. It seemed altogether a thing to be ex-
pected that the great silver lode of the Espiritu Santo should have
failed at this time. Had it not failed, there was then neither
money nor men to work it. The money was taken by forced
levies, for the support of armies and revolutionary leaders, the
men died by thousands on obscure battle-fields where the land
was drenched in the blood of its sons.

And so, for many years, the great and once famous mine was
left deserted, water rose unchecked in its dark tunnels, from
whence the value of a kingdom's ransom had been drawn ; and
no one was bold enough to attempt to touch it. Even after the
long throes of revolution were over and something like peace
descended upon the exhausted land, men were too impoverished
and too afraid of risking what yet remained to them, to think
of the Espiritu Santo Mine. For in this case the Mexican pro-
verb, " Una mina quiere otra mina" ("One mine wants another
mine" to furnish means to work it), was especially true. To
drain the mine and to explore its deep workings for the lost
lode of fabulous richness, would require a large capital a capi-
tal so large, in fact, that no single man was likely to furnish it,

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 505

and the only hope for renewed working was in the organization
of a company.

This being well known, every one was astonished when Fer-
nando Sandoval " denounced " the mine ; for nothing was a more
indisputable fact than that Fernando neither had nor could com-
mand means to work it. He belonged to a family that in former
times had owned a large interest and grown rich from its profits.
But those riches had now taken wings, for in Mexico as in other
countries, the case of the bottom rail finding itself on the top,
and vice versa, was a frequent practical result of the wars. The
family Sandoval were now very poor. They, who had once
counted their territory by leagues rather than by acres, were
now reduced to one small estate in the beautiful valley over
which frowned the rugged heights and passes of the mountains
within whose great purple clefts lay the opening of the mine
from which they had once derived so much wealth.

It was perhaps because it lay there, dominating the poverty
in which he spent his life with the suggestion of untold riches,
that Fernando, the eldest son of the family, felt his heart burn-
ing with a discontent very unusual in one of his people, who, as
a rule, accept the alternations of fortune with oriental stoicism.
Or perhaps the fact that he wished very much to marry and
could not afford to do so caused him to think by day and night
of the lost lode, and to speculate upon the chances of finding it.
For he knew well that unless he could reach fortune by some
short-cut the soft, dark eyes of his cousin Guadalupe would
never be allowed to smile for him. She was an orphan, dwelling
beneath his father's roof and subject entirely to the control of his
parents, who, although they had given her a home and love and
kindness, when the cruel chances of war had in early childhood
left her orphaned and penniless, would certainly never consent
to his marrying her unless he could prove his right to do so
by making money enough to enable him to do as he pleased.

But how was this to be accomplished ? It is not an easy
task, even in a country where opportunities for money-making
abound, but in a country impoverished by revolutions, with few
industries, few avenues to wealth, it becomes an almost insoluble
problem. So Fernando found it, and so his thoughts turned
more and more towards the romantic stories which abound in
Mexico of sudden wealth yielded by the mines that from the
days of Cortez to our own have surpassed in richness all others
in the world. If he could but find again the lost lode of the
Espiritu Santo ! He began to haunt the deserted mine, to de-

506 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

scend as far as he could into it, to gaze with passionate longing
at the depths of still water that covered the old workings.
Somewhere, somewhere there down there must lie the lost
lode ! He felt it with an intensity and a certainty that was like
a consuming passion. For money to drain those dark waters
and search untiringly until the lode was found, what would he
not give or do ! But money for such investment he neither had
nor could possibly obtain. And this being so, it was necessary
to put his wits to work and endeavor to accomplish by other
means the end on which he had set his heart.

About this time he began to correspond with a friend in the
City of Mexico, a lawyer known to have business dealings with
certain English companies. The result of the correspondence
was that one day Fernando went to the Mining Deputation and
denounced the Espiritu Santo Mine, thus becoming its owner
after the formalities of the law were complied with, but bound
by law to do a certain amount of work within a certain limit of
time, or to forfeit his title, in which case the mine would again
revert to the state and be again open to denouncement, as the
process of acquiring title is called.

It was then that his friends and acquaintances began to
wonder what Fernando meant to do. They were not long left
in doubt. Soon two foreigners appeared on the scene, who in-
spected the mine as far as inspection was possible, and then took
a bond upon it. Men were at once placed at work, although no
work of any real importance was possible until the mine was
drained ; for which purpose a powerful modern pump was neces-
sary. In the course of a few months this arrived, the engine
was put up, and soon the water of the mine was pouring in a
flood through the mouth of the tunnel which was the chief en-
trance into it, and flowing tumultuously down the steep arroyo
of the mountain-side.

Following upon this, a new person arrived on the scene a
young Englishman who, it was understood, was to take charge
of the work now that there would be something of importance
to be done. He did not seem very much like one who would
stimulate or hasten work, this dark, languid young man, who,
except in manner and speech, had no appearance of an English-
man ; but since he carried half the alphabet after his name, in
token that he belonged to half a dozen scientific societies, it is
to be supposed that the new owners of the Espiritu Santo knew
what they were about in sending him to look after their interests.
That he was the son of one of them had perhaps as much bearing

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 507

upon the case as the scientific initials ; but neither fact impressed
Fernando Sandoval with much belief in his practical ability. Al-
though he did not smile when he saw him, for a Mexican has
the impassive calm of an Indian together with the stately dignity
of a Spaniard, he certainly thought that this bored-looking fine
gentleman, with his sleepy eyes, his English drawl, and admirably-
cut London clothes, would not be likely either to find the lost
lode himself, or to interfere seriously with certain plans already
matured in his (Sandoval's) mind regarding it.

II.

The house of La Providencia, the small estate of the Sando-
val family, stands on a gentle eminence hardly large enough to be
called a hill, behind which, at the distance of about half a mile,
rises abruptly the steep, serrated mountain range, and before
which extends the level lands of the beautiful valley, in the
midst of which is the once flourishing but>now decayed town that
dates its era of prosperity according* to the length of time when
the Espiritu Santo Mine was " in bonanza."

The casa of La Providencia looks naturally toward the
town, and from the corridor, or arcade, that extends along
the front of the house, any one with an appreciation for the
beautiful in nature has a charming picture spread before the
gaze. The lovely valley, smiling in fertility, stretches away for
at least twenty miles, so that the mountains at the farther end
are like the azure battlements of heaven. On each side the
great encircling sierras extend vast purple masses in the distance,
rugged, dominating heights close at hand, with forests still
standing in their deep clefts and gorges, but the slopes of their
immense shoulders bare and brown, save in the rainy season,
when a beautiful mantle of green spreads over them. In the
middle distance lies the town, apparently embowered in tropical
foliage, above which rises the noble tower of the church, a per-
fect picturesque object, as all Mexican churches are, outlined
against a sky that burns ever with the blue intensity of a jewel.
Broad, white roads lead from the town in various directions, and
along one of these roads about four o'clock one afternoon the
young English superintendent of the Espiritu Santo Mine was
riding.

He did not look amiable as he walked his horse along a foot-
path at the side of the road, to avoid the suffocating clouds of
white dust which every step on the highway raised. He was a

5o8 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

very foreign figure, despite the broad Mexican hat he wore to
shield himself from the sun ; and as he let the reins fall care-
lessly on his horse's neck and gazed with sombre eyes across the
valley, over which, on the western side, broad, deep shadows
were already lying, an observer could hardly have failed to see
that he was a very dissatisfied man indeed.

And certainly, in Mr. Cecil Vyner's opinion, he had every
reason for dissatisfaction. To be summarily exiled from the only
life worth living that of London in its season of gaiety and
fashion and sent, not to some foreign city where there would
at least be a few social distractions, but a remote Mexican vil-
lage where he was thrown literally and completely upon his own
resources, and where, possessing very few of these resources, he
was almost ready to cut his throat from ennui, was surely enough
to account for the gloom of his face and the depression of his
spirits. He was inwardly cursing his fate, his father, and last,
but certainly not least, the Espiritu Santo Mine, as he rode
along the sunlit valley, which to other eyes might have borne
the aspect of a paradise, but to him was more repugnant than a
desert. There was but one ray of hope before him. If he could
find the lost lode his father would be so much pleased that
he might condone the financial extravagance which had outraged
him ; and he (Vyner) might be recalled from exile and restored
to the life he loved and the woman he fancied he adored. But
the realization of this hope seemed to him vague and distant.
He looked with lowering brows at the great deep gash in the
mountain where the opening to the mine lay, and was possessed
with a sense of impotent rage as he thought of the baffling se-
cret which it held. So another man had often looked and longed,
feeling as Vyner felt now, that if he could not soon wrest that
secret from nature's dark depths, the woman whom he loved might
be placed for ever beyond his reach.

But, though he might look at it with rage in his heart, it
was not to the mine that the young Englishman was bound this
afternoon. When he reached the gates through which a road
passed from the highway into the lands of La Providencia, he
turned and entered them. Riding through wide fields, just now
bare from the garnered harvest, he presently reached the gentle
hill on which the house stood, and passing through another gate,
surrounded by the small, dark huts of the laborers employed on
the estate, rode up a sloping road to the corridor that, with its
picturesque arches, overlooked the valley.

A girl seated in the shade of this corridor, with some fine

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 509

needlework in her hands, had observed him ever since he turned
from the highway into the fields. There was not much interest
in her observation, for she knew very well who he was, and that
he had a right of way across the lands of the hacienda to the
mine in the heights beyond. She supposed that he was bound
to the latter place until his horse's hoofs striking on the stony
hillside told her that he was, instead, coming to the house. A
minute later he reined up before her and uncovered.

" Good-day, senorita," he said in sufficiently fluent Spanish.
"Will you do me the favor to tell me where I can find Seftor
Don Fernando Sandoval?" Then to himself he added, "What
a beautiful girl ! "

And indeed it could only have been a blind man who did
not perceive the beauty of the face looking up into his a face
with purely-outlined features of almost classic delicacy, large dark
eyes of singular sweetness, set under the midnight shadow of
sweeping lashes and perfect brows, a complexion like ivory in its
softness and smoothness, a mouth of noble beauty, and rich hair
waving in curling tendrils around a forehead that in proportion
and form was one of the most charming features of the counte-
nance. And with this lovely countenance were united a clear
directness of gaze untinged by coquetry, and a simplicity and
grace of bearing without the faintest trace of self-consciousness.
All over the Mexican land, in lowest as in highest, one finds
this simplicity and grace ; but Vyner had never before been so
struck with it as in this girl, who, seated under the shadow of
what was little more than a farm-house, answered him with the
quiet courtesy of a young princess :

"I am sorry, seftor, but Don .Fernando is not at home.
When he rose from his siesta he went out into the fields and
has not returned. Pancho" she turned to a small boy who
emerged from some inner region " do you know when Fernando
will return ? "

Pancho shook his head, which was covered with a mop-like
growth of thick black hair. " No," he answered, " Fernando
went out to the vaqueros, who are branding the calves. I
wished much to go," he added in a tone of personal injury,
41 but I had no horse and Fernando would not take me behind
him. He took Manuel instead."

The girl looked at the stranger. " It is very far, seftor," she
said, " to the place where the vaqueros have the cattle. If my
cousin has gone there, he will not return until late, and it is
VOL. LIV. 33

510 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

not likely that you can see him to-day ; but his father, Don Ig-
nacio, is at home, if you would like to see him."

" I will go and tell him," said Pancho without waiting for a
reply, and he darted into the house.

Vyner had no desire to see Don Ignacio, but the matter
seemed taken out of his hands by the prompt action of the boy,
and after all, when a man has nothing better to do, why should
he not pause in grateful shade on a warm afternoon, and please
his eyes by the sight of the most beautiful face he has seen for
many days ? Certainly the eyes in question remained fastened
upon the face with a persistence which might have unsettled the
composure of an older woman, but that had apparently no effect
upon this Mexican girl.

" You will descend from your horse, seftor, and sit down until
my uncle comes?" she said; and then, with the graceful, oriental
gesture common in the country, she clapped her hands.

A mozo, who looked like a bronze statue dressed in white
cotton cloth and girded with a red sash, appeared, took the
horse and led him away, while Vyner, entering the brick-paved
corridor, the floor of which was on a level with the ground, sat
down in one of the chairs of bamboo and leather placed there.
Now for the first time he looked away from the girl over the
wide, beautiful picture which the arches framed, and for the first
time he saw and felt the loveliness of the natural scenes around
him.

" You have a charming situation here, seftorita," he said.
" This view of the valley and mountains is superb. Do you not
admire it ? "

She hesitated a moment before replying. It had never oc-
curred to her to think whether she admired it or not. It was
part of her life almost of herself this picture which since her
earliest youth had been spread before her eyes in unchanging
beauty. "Yes, it is fine one can see all the valley from here,"
she said after a moment. "The senor likes our valley?"

The seflor shrugged his shoulders. " It is very beautiful," he
said, "but one cannot live on natural beauty at least 7 can't.
One wants a little society a few friends. I am a stranger here,
you know, and I find it very lonely." Had he been speaking in his
own language, he would have added in words, as in his thoughts,
" and beastly dull " ; but the stately Spanish tongue does not
lend itself readily to English slang, so his statement remained
incomplete so far as his own sentiments were. concerned though
more likely to appeal to the sympathy of his companion.

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 511

And the liquid eyes were full of this sympathy as they
regarded him. He looked so oppressed by the loneliness of
which he spoke, as he sat gazing out over the Arcadian valley,
with its magical mountain walls ; and, like all women, this girl
was easily touched by the sight of unhappiness. " But is it
necessary for you to be lonely?" she said. "You speak our
language very well, and our people are glad to welcome stran-
gers who come with friendly feelings toward us."

Vyner might have answered very truly that the friendly
feelings were non-existent in his case, for with true Anglo-Saxon
arrogance he regarded the people as belonging to an inferior
race, and up to the present moment had not been troubled
with the faintest desire to know any of those who inhabited
this remote spot. But now things began to wear a slightly dif-
ferent aspect. It might be worth while to know the Sandovals,
if only for the privilege of looking now and then at the lovely
face before him. " You are very kind, senorita," he answered.
" No doubt your people would be friendly enough although
we really have not much in common, you know but I have
not up to this time cared to make acquaintances. Now, how-
ever "

He paused abruptly, for at this moment Don Ignacio step-
ped out of the house. A tall, stalwart figure, with a. deeply
bronzed face, clearly-cut features and piercing dark eyes, he
looked what he was a man born to wealth and command, con-
signed by adverse fate to poverty and obscurity, and grown
somewhat morose under a discipline which, as a general rule,
only benefits sweet and noble natures. A mass of iron-gray
hair stood up straight from the square, olive forehead, and a
short moustache, also partially gray, covered the upper lip. His
dress was somewhat shabby the short Mexican jacket of black
cloth which he wore, somewhat frayed and worn but there was
no mistaking that the man was a gentleman, and even Vyner,
though he had no very keen perceptions to pierce below the
outward aspect of things, had not the least doubt of it as he
rose to meet him.

" It is the English seflor from the mine, uncle," said the
girl's soft voice. " He wishes to see Fernando."

" My name is Vyner," said the young man. " Your son, Don
Fernando, knows me very well, sefior. I have taken the liberty
of calling to see him on a matter of business ; and since he is
not at home, the senorita suggested that I might see yourself."

"You are very welcome, sefior," answered the grave Mexican

512 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

with an air of stately courtesy. " My son has often spoken of
you, and I am happy to know you. My house is yours. Will
you not enter ? "

He waved his hand toward the great open door of the
house, but Vyner had no intention of leaving the attraction
which had detained him ; and he made a decided negative
gesture.

" Pardon me," he said, " but I shall only detain you for a
few minutes and it is very delightful here, if you will allow me
to remain "

" Pray be seated, then," said Don Ignacio with another wave
of the hand ; and when the visitor had resumed his seat, he sat
down himself. The usual interchange of courtesies then fol-
lowed between the two men, while the girl relapsed into silence
and devoted herself to the stitching in her hands, her dark
lashes throwing a shadow on the soft ivory of - her cheeks as
she looked downward. Vyner's eyes wandered persistently
toward her while he answered his host's remarks rather absently,
and it was with a sense of pulling himself up that he presently
observed abruptly :

" As I have said, seftor, I called to see your son on business,
and I shall be much obliged if you will do me the favor to
deliver a message to him."

Don Ignacio bowed. " I am at your service, seftor," he
replied. " I will deliver to my son any message with which you
do me the honor to entrust me."

" I wish," said Vyner, " to ask Don Fernando if it would be
possible for him to take a position at the Espiritu Santo Mine.
My English foreman is leaving. He does not understand the
men nor they him, and a continual conflict has been the result.
I therefore think it is better to supply his place with a Mexican
who knows his people ; and it occurred to me that perhaps Don
Fernando might accept the position. He will be in control of
everything though subject, of course, to my direction and the
salary is a hundred dollars a month."

He paused, and he judged rightly enough the character of
the man before him not to be surprised that the dark brows
knitted slightly over the deep-set eyes. Evidently it was not
pleasant to Don Ignacio that his son should be asked to serve
as a servant where he himself had once commanded as a mas-
ter ; but the courtesy of his manner did not change as he
answered :

" I will deliver your message to my son, seftor ; but you will

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 513

permit me to remind you that practically he knows little of
mining. Let me suggest that in Guanajuato or some other min-
ing town you could easily find some one trained to the busi-
ness, who would serve your purpose much better."

" Not at all," answered Vyner with positiveness. " I do not
need a man of very special training, because I shall direct the
work myself. All that I want is some one who will see that
my orders are carefully executed, and who will understand the
men and manage them without difficulty. Your son will cer-
tainly be able to do these things ; and I shall be much obliged
if you will ask him to take my offer into consideration, and let
me know his decision as soon as possible."

The Mexican bent his head. " I will tell him all you have
said," he answered briefly.

" He knows where to find me in the town down there," said
Vyner, nodding toward the embowered church-tower, " and I
should be very happy, seftor, if you would do me the favor of
considering my house there as your own."

The reply was what would naturally follow in such a case,
elaborate acknowledgment and an assurance of unlimited hos-
pitality on the part of La Providencia. Vyner answered suit-
ably, and then rose : there was no longer an excuse for linger-
ing. Don Ignacio offered chocolate, and when it was declined,
clapped his hands, at which signal mozo and horse promptly re-
appeared. Vyner walked over and offered his hand to the girl,
who again lifted her dark, sweet eyes to his.

" Adios, seftorita, and many thanks," he said.

As he rode away the smile with which she answered simply,
"Adios, seflor," seemed to linger with him like the perfume of
a flower.

III.

It was on the same corridor several hours later, when the
violet sky overhead was thickset with myriads of shining stars,
and the wide outspread landscape was no more than a shadowy
suggestion of mountains and plain, that Fernando said to his
cousin :

" My opportunity has come at last, Guadalupe. I thought
that it would if I had patience enough to wait."

Guadalupe did not answer for a moment. In the soft obscu-
rity he could not see more than the outlines of her face; but
her voice was a little thoughtful when she spoke :

THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

" What do you mean by your opportunity, Fernando ? Is it
so much to you to have this position in the mine ? "

He laughed shortly, a laugh which jarred as it struck on the
girl's ear. " Yes," he answered, " it is much to me to have this
position ; but not for the sake of its paltry remuneration. My
father is right about that. It would ill become a Sandoval to
take a servant's place for a little money. But when a great
amount of money millions it may be is at stake, then it is
worth while to humiliate one's self for a time in order to triumph
later. This is what he does not know. But you, Guadalupe,
you must understand why I take the opportunity which this
foreigner has put into my hand, and accept the place he offers."

The girl seemed to shrink a little in the depths of the chair
in which she sat. Again there was a moment's pause before she
spoke, and when she did her voice had a curious ring of hesita-
tion in it. " No," she said, " I do not understand why this
position should mean so much to you, or how how, Fernando
mio, you can serve both your own interest and that of the man
who will employ and trust you."

" You are dull, then, Guadalupe, or is it that you do not
wish to understand ? " said Fernando a little harshly. " You
know that I live but for one object, to find the lost lode of the
Espiritu Santo Mine, because to find that means to win you.
For a year past I have thought by day and dreamed by night
of nothing else ; and I have laid my plans well. This foreigner
will never find the lode. He is not only a fool where mining
is concerned, with all his assumption of science, but well, there
are other reasons, which I need not tell you, why he will never
find it. At last he and the men who have sent him here will
grow weary, they will abandon the mine, their costly machinery
will be sold for anything it will bring. I will buy it, denounce
the mine afresh, open the lode, and we are rich once more, and
you are mine mine for ever, Guadalupe ! "

He put out his hand under cover of the darkness and seized
hers in a strong, close clasp. What was there in the touch that
seemed to suddenly fill her soul with a rush of pity and of the
love which the moment before his words had chilled and shock-
ed ? The hand which touched hers was like the hand of a man
in burning fever hot and dry, with a pulse that throbbed pas-
sionately. It seemed to tell her to what a pitch of hardly
accountable excitement the man was strung. She laid her other
cool, soft hand upon it, and spoke with a tenderness that an
instant earlier would have been impossible to her.

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 515

" I am yours for ever, whether poverty or riches lie before
us, Fernando. But I had far rather it were poverty than riches
bought at the price of treachery. No, do not take your hand
away ! Listen to me to me who love you for one moment !
You have thought of this lost lode until you are not yourself.
You are like a man possessed by an evil spirit that will lead
you to deeds that must stain your soul, if you do not pause.
O Fernando ! think of it no more. Keep faith with those to
whom you have sold this mine. Let them find the lode if they
can. It is enough if we have the price you have asked for the
mine. You can gain no more with a clear conscience and an
undefiled soul. Do not go near that mine where temptation
lies in wait for you. O my love, my love ! listen to me. Do
not take the position this man offers, I beg, I pray you, Fer-
nando "

Her voice failed under the influence of the feeling which her
own pleading seemed to intensify. Her tones were very low,
but they thrilled with a passion of entreaty, and her small
hands clasped his with a compelling force, as if she would con-
strain him to hear and to heed. Love has sometimes a won-
derful illuminating power, and one old in the knowledge of life
and sin could have felt no more strongly than this girl, in her
youth and ignorance, that the man beside her stood in deadly
temptation. Was it possible that her voice the voice he loved
so well could fail to draw him from it ?

Alas ! in all ages is not the story told that angels, in one
form or another, have pleaded in vain with men when their
hearts and minds were set toward the glamour of evil? For an
instant Fernando's purpose wavered, but the next moment it
was like steel again. Much as he loved Guadalupe, what was
she but a woman, a girl, full of foolish scruples and unfit to
counsel a man in the serious affairs of life? He had made a
mistake in speaking to her of matters beyond her comprehen-
sion. It was for a man to fight the world and win fortune
with whatever weapons should seem to him best, and for a
woman to accept the results without inquiry, submissive to his
higher wisdom. So when he spoke there was a certain hardness
in his tone that struck on her passionate mood like ice-water on
heated metal.

" I see that you do not understand me, Guadalupe, and it
is best that we should talk of this no, farther. Every man has
a right to do the best that he can for his own interest. I am
doing no more. If these blundering foreigners serve me with-

516 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

out intending to do so, I am not to blame for that. Nor yet
am I to blame if I take advantage of their ignorance and
stupidity."

" You are deceiving yourself, Fernando," said Guadalupe
sadly. " You are to blame if you should bind yourself to serve
their interest, and instead you should betray it and serve your
own. What would you say of another man who acted in that
manner ? And even now, I fear oh ! forgive me that I must
say it I fear that you are trying to gain your end by means
that neither your honor nor your conscience can approve."

" That is enough," said Fernando angrily, drawing his hand
from her soft detaining clasp. " You insult me, you do not
trust me, you can have no love for me. When a woman loves
a man all that he does is right in her eyes, she thinks only of
his interest, not of that of any other man ; but you, what do
you know of love ? "

"So much that I would die for you, Fernando, willingly,
gladly," she said, clasping her hands and bending toward him.
" But to see you do what is dishonorable in the eyes of men,
and a sin in the eyes of God, how could I love you and not
try with all my strength to hold you back from that ? "

" If you loved me you would believe that I know best what
is right," he said with passionate arrogance.

There was a moment's silence. Then, " Should I ? " she
asked with a quivering intonation. " I think not, Fernando ; for
how can any human love alter the laws of God, the laws that
bind us to justice and truth? They do not depend on what
you or I may think or feel toward each other, those laws.
They are fixed for ever, like the stars yonder, to guide us
both."

Her voice dropped with the last word, and it was now Fer-
nando's turn to be silent for a moment. Like many another
man, he was angered by the opposition of the one being on
whom he felt he had a right to count for support in any event.
The truths which Guadalupe uttered he did not wish to hear
from any one ; but they were especially offensive coming from
her; for he desired to deceive himself as far as practicable, and
he desired her aid in doing so. He had not reckoned on the
strength of integrity in the girl's nature, nor the living force
which certain commandments, that he had trained himself to
regard lightly enough, had for her. She was the only confi-
dante whom he could allow himself, and he had followed an
irresistible impulse in speaking to her freely ; but he saw now

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 517

that he must deny himself this solace, and wear a mask for her
as for all the rest of the world.

"You do me great injustice," he said at length, and, despite
his efforts, he could not keep a tone of sullenness out of his
voice. " I am not so treacherous and dishonorable as you think.
If I take the position offered me in the mine, I shall not betray
any interests confided to me. My father tells me that Sefior
Vyner simply wishes some one to execute his orders. That I
can do with a clear conscience, for I wish I were as sure of
Paradise as I am that he will never find the lost lode. Now we
will speak of this no more."

And indeed Guadalupe's name was at this moment called by
a voice that of her aunt which she had no alternative but to
obey promptly. " I come/' she answered, and then rising, bent
for an instant over Fernando as he remained seated, put both
hands on his shoulders so that the sweetness of her presence
seemed to envelop him, kissed him lightly on the forehead, and
was gone.

She did not see him again that night, and when she asked
for him the next morning one of the younger boys said that he
had ridden away at daylight,' without telling any one where he
was going. Guadalupe sighed. Was he angry with her, or did
he only mean to avoid her, fearing farther words concerning
their difference ? She said to herself that he need have no such
fear. She had wisdom enough to perceive clearly that no words
of hers had power to move him ; and there was a great and
unusual capability of reticence in the girl. Some day, perhaps,
the opportunity would come to speak again with more effect
until then, with the deep, simple piety of her race, she could
only pray.

IV.

Meanwhile Fernando had indeed ridden away early, before
the sun appeared above the eastern mountains. The cool fresh-
ness of the dawn never in this high region without an accom-
panying chill was grateful to his fevered senses; for all night
long he had tossed and turned, beset by troubled visions, and
with the pulsating excitement which Guadalupe had perceived in
him thrilling through all his veins an excitement that had been
increased rather than lessened by her words. Again and again
he waked from dreams in which he stood in the dark chambers
of the mine beside the shining metal of the lost lode, but with
Guadalupe's face and hand, like a forbidding angel's, warning

Si8 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

him back. It was a relief to shake off such visions, to rise from
his couch, mount his horse in the sharp, clear freshness of the
morning, and ride away. The indescribable coolness and purity
of the air seemed to quiet the fever of his brain, and lay a
calming touch upon his nerves. His thoughts took more definite
shape, and his face set itself in resolute lines, as he turned his
horse's head toward the town.

The marvellous glow of color which heralded the sunrise had
faded by the time he entered the long, oriental-like streets, lined
by close-barred, flat-roofed houses, and saw the beautiful church-
tower gilded by the first rays of sunlight. Birds were wheeling in
and out of its open arches, and bells with clashing peal were call-
ing men to worship God ; but Fernando paid as little heed to
the last as to the first. With averted face he rode quickly by
the church, and took his way down the straight street toward a
part of the town which, having been the site of the original
Aztec village, was still altogether inhabited by Indians. It was
called the Cienega (or swampy place) from the fact that it lay
somewhat lower than the town, and was therefore in less need
of irrigation, from which resulted a luxurious growth of vegeta-
tion so that the low adobe houses' were embowered in tropical
shade, and the gardens and fields stretching behind them were
covered with a rich, deep green that was to be seen nowhere
else during the dry season.

Before one of the small, dark habitations which bordered the
road, Fernando drew up his horse, just as a woman appeared in
the low doorway. The level rays of sunshine fell over her tall,
straight figure, and made her bare neck and arms for she wore
only the cotton skirt and white camiseta common among the
lower orders gleam like polished bronze, while no more purely
Aztec face ever met the gaze of the first conquerors of Mexico.

" Good day, Caterina," said the young man. " I want to see
the viejocito, Rosalio. Is he at home?"

"Yes, seflor," the woman answered, " he is in the house. I
will call him to you unless you will do us the honor to enter."
And no great lady could have invited a guest within by a more
graceful gesture.

"Thanks," said Fernando. "I prefer to see him within, if
you can send some one to my horse

"At once, seflor.". She turned, and a moment later a boy
appeared, to whom, with a word of caution, Fernando tossed his
bridle-rein, and entered the dwelling. It was a single apartment,
with a floor of hard and clean-swept earth, and, passing through,

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 519

the young man emerged into an enclosure behind, surrounded by
one or two shed-like rooms and an adobe wall, along which cacti
were creeping, and over which drooped heavy masses of plume-like
foliage. Here he found an old man, spare and wiry of frame,
as the elders of his race almost invariably are, with a skin like
dried leather, but an eye full of brightness and intelligence, who
was seated in a corner, under the shade of the projecting roof
of bamboo-sticks and tiles, plaiting straw to be fashioned into
the large, coarse sombreros worn by laborers.

" Ah, Rosalio, how goes it with you ? " cried the young man
cheerily, as soon as he perceived this figure.

" Very well, seflor, that I may serve you," answered the
viejocito, rising and evidently in no doubt who his visitor might
be. " Sit down, senor, sit down " offering his chair. " You are
early on the road."

" It is necessary, for I have much to do," Fernando an-
swered as he sat down in the offered chair. " I have come to
see you again about the Espiritu Santo Mine," he went on
quickly, looking up at the dark old face. "No one knows as
much of it as you do, Rosalio, for I think you are the last of
those who worked it in the time of the great bonanza."

"There is no other here of whom I know, seftor," the old
man answered. " Yes, I worked there in the days when silver
was pouring out like a river ; but that was long ago, before the
times of fighting."

" So long ago," said Fernando, " that I know not where to
find another man who has seen with his own eyes the great
veta madre. And now I want you, Rosalio, to tell me exactly
where it lay when you saw it last."

He was not looking up now, so he did not see how keen the
light in the dark eyes suddenly became ; but Rosalio paused for
a moment, as if for consideration, before he answered. Then,
" How can I tell you that, sefior, when you do not know the
mine ? " he asked slowly.

" I know it quite well already, and I shall soon know it
better," Fernando replied. " I am going to take charge of the
work, and I wish to know where to seek for the lost lode."

" You ! you are going to work the mine ! " the old man said
with astonishment. "And you wish to find the veta madre for
the strangers who possess it now ? "

"Perhaps," said Fernando drily. "At least I wish to know
where lies the best prospect of finding it ; and I will pay well
for the information, if you can give it to me."

520 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

There was a farther pause, and then the old man squatted
down on the ground beside the chair, and looked into his visi-
tor's face with an expression which made the heart of the latter
for a moment almost cease beating, so full of meaning was it.

" Seftor," said the old miner gravely, " it will be well if you
speak plainly to me. It has not been long since you came and
paid me to gire no hint of what I knew to those who are now
working the mine. If they found the great lode of themselves,
you said, it was well ; but there was no reason why we should
give information to help them to it. I could guess your reasons
for this very well ; and, even had I not been able to do so,
your money was good, and I have held my tongue although,
indeed, I have not been without thought that the senor gringo
might pay me even better for what I know."

" You old traitor ! " muttered Fernando, not without a rising
fear lest that thought might have been acted upon, " I have
no doubt of it."

" But," Rosalio went on, without heeding these half-inaudible
words, " now you come to tell me that you wish to learn all that
I know, in order to find the vein for these foreigners. It is
hard to understand, senor."

" What concern of yours is it to attempt to understand it ? "
Fernando demanded haughtily. " If I pay you, is not that
enough ? "

The old man shook his head. " 'No, it is not enough, senor,"
he replied. " For I must not only be paid for what I can tell
now, but I must have a share in that vein when it is found ;
and therefore I must deal with the man who will find and own it."

The young eyes and the old ones met for a minute, and the
latter did not quail before the angry light which shone in the
former. ~The steady gaze of those keen bright orbs was indeed
the thing which told Fernando that the old Indian held him
in his power. Whatever his terms, they must be acceded to,
or else he might carry to Vyner a tale that would sweep
away all hope of his (Fernando's) ever finding the great lost
lode. So, his resolve was quickly taken Rosalio must know all,
and be so closely bound by chains of interest that treachery
would become impossible. Therefore it was with a strong effort
to control himself that he spoke :

"Whether you understand me or not, at least I understand
you, Rosalio and that very well. And if what you can tell
proves to be of real value, you shall have your terms ; for when
that vein is found, I, and no other man, will be its owner. I

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 521

wish to know where to look for it, in order that it may not be
found at present. Now tell me all that you know, and I will
give you a hundred dollars for the information."

" Five hundred, sefior, no less," the other answered calmly,
" because I do not boast, but speak the truth, when I say that
I know where the veta madre may be found. There are tales
that it came to an end, that the ore no longer paid. That is
not true. Those tales were spread to save the mine in times of
danger ; and I was one of the three men who covered up the
lode and blockaded the passages that led to it. We were sworn
never to betray the secret ; but all are dead now save me, both
of those who ordered and those who did the work ; so there is
no further reason why I should keep the oath. And I have
only waited to find who will be likely to pay most for what I
can tell."

" If this be true," said Fernando, who had grown very pale,
" there is no need of your information. We have only to clear
out all the old passages and workings until we find the vein
where you left it."

The old man made an indifferent gesture with his hands and
shoulders. " Try," he said laconically, " and when you have
failed you will be glad to come to Rosalio. We did not do our
work by halves."

"And if I believe you, and, to save time and labor, pay even
the price you ask for what you can tell, are you sure enough of
yourself to be certain that in all these years you have forgotten
nothing? "

" Nothing ! " was the firm answer. " It is clearer here " he
touched his head " than things which happened yesterday. I
have asked the men now working in the mine where they are
seeking the lode, and I smiled when they told me. For they
will never find it there."

" I am sure of that," said Fernando, " and it is because I
wish to remain sure of it that I go into the mine. Now, under-
stand that this is but the beginning of things between us. I
will come again, and then we will arrange everything. Mean-
while take this " there was the click of silver " and be as
silent as if thou, too, were dead like the rest."

" I have been silent for thirty years," the old Indian an-
swer^d with dignity, " and it is not likely I shall speak now
without good reason."

This was so true that Fernando felt he had nothing to fear
as he rode away from the door of the humble dwelling that

522 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

sheltered so great a secret. And now to see Vyner ! But, know-
ing that gentleman was not likely to be astir so early, he went to
the home of a friend, breakfasted, and two hours later presented
himself at the door of the house where the young Englishman
had his quarters.

These were as luxurious as they could be made in such a
place, and with the limited means of transportation at command.
Vyner .had rented one of the best houses in the town, and
brought, in ox-carts and on mule-back, the furniture which filled
his rooms, from a city more than a hundred miles distant. From
a flowery patio, surrounded by brick-paved, tile-roofed corridors,
Fernando was shown into a sala the floor of which was covered
with rugs, while easy-chairs and couches were placed about care-
lessly in a manner strange to Mexican eyes, tables were covered
with books and papers, and extended in a long, cane chair by
one of these, smoking and reading, was Vyner himself.

He looked up, threw down his paper, and rose with a cor-
dial air when he saw who was his visitor. It struck Fernando
that never had the usually languid and supercilious man met
him so graciously before.

"Ah, Sefior Sandoval," he said, "I am very glad to see you.
Pray be seated, and let me offer you some refreshment after
your ride."

" Many thanks, seftor," Fernando replied, with the courteous
gesture of the hand which signifies a negative ; " I have just
breakfasted. I was unfortunate in being absent from home when
you called to see me yesterday, but my father delivered your
message to me, and so I am here."

"To tell me, I hope, that you will accept my proposal," said
Vyner. " Pray take a cigar. I can recommend them as good.
I am well aware," he went on, after the cigar had been accepted,
" that I may have seemed a little presumptuous in making such
a proposal. But you have an interest in the mine almost as great
as ours ; for unless we can find the value promised, we shall not,
of course, purchase it ; and so it occurred to me that you might
be willing to do anything that you could to insure success."

Fernando's throat seemed a little husky, so that he could not
reply at once ; but after a moment he answered that it was cer-
tainly very much to his interest that the present owners should
succeed in working the mine, and that his best efforts were at
their service to assist in securing that success.

" I had no doubt of it," said Vyner, " and therefore I offered
you a position which under other circumstances I am aware that

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 523

it would hardly be worth your while to accept. But, since our
interest lies in the same direction, we must work together to
win success as soon as possible. My people in London are urg-
ing me to find the vet a madre, and I am sparing no effort to
do so ; but I need a Mexican to superintend the work, one who
will understand and can manage the men, and whose interest,
like my own, is to discover the lost lode as speedily as possible.
Therefore I have applied to you."

Perhaps Fernando had never felt until now how difficult was
the part he had undertaken to play ; for it is one thing to plot
treachery, and another to execute it in the face of trust. Blind-
ed by passionate, overmastering desire, he had not thought of
all the dissimulation and double-dealing involved in the course
upon which he had entered. For one moment he hesitated.
Even yet it was not too late ; he might still decline to enter
into this man's service, though keeping his own counsel regard-
ing what he knew. Guadalupe's imploring eyes rose before him ;
but so strangely are human hearts constituted, that it was her
image which steeled his wavering resolve. No, the road upon
which he had entered was the road that led to her; and he
would take it, no matter through what dark ways of deception
it led, even though the foul fiend stood at the end! But in
order to excuse his hesitation he said :

" There is one obstacle to my accepting the position you
offer, seftor I have no practical knowledge of mining."

" That is not necessary," Vyner replied, as he had already
replied to the same objection from Don Ignacio. " I shall di-
rect the work ; you will only be required to see that my orders
are faithfully executed."

A gleam came into Fernando's eyes. " You are sure that I
shall have no responsibility, that no direction of the work will
be thrown upon me ? " he inquired.

" Not the least," Vyner answered. " Set your mind at rest'
on that point. I allow no one else to direct the work in a
mine of which I am in charge. I shall indicate where the work
is to be done, and you will see that it is done that is all."

" Then I accept the position," said the young man in a clear,
resolute tone. " If I am to have no responsibility, if no direction
rests with me, there is no reason why I should hesitate longer.
Seftor Vyner, consider me in your service."

524 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

And so it came to pass that, much to the surprise of his
friends and acquaintances who, in Mexico as in other parts of
the world, are prone to interest themselves in what does not
concern them Fernando Sandoval went into the Espiritu Santo
Mine as its manager, subject to Mr. Vyner. It is unnecessary
to dwell upon the comments that passed freely from lip to lip,
or upon the taciturn but unmistakable disapproval of his father ;
for the young man paid absolutely no heed to these things. A
change had come over him as every one felt and not a few re-
marked. Once full of frank friendliness to all the world, a good
comrade and pleasant companion, he was now become what the
people characterize as " corto " short in speech, reserved in
manner, and with an air of almost moody preoccupation on his
handsome face. " He is like a man under a spell," some of
them said, and indeed it was the most potent spell known to
earth, that had been laid upon himthe spell of an overwhelm-
ing desire for the gold which brings all things, and the posses-
sion of which, in this as in many another case, could only be
compassed by the loss of honor and peace of conscience.

In these days even Guadalupe's sweet dark eyes appealed to
him in vain. Ever since the night on which she had spoken so
freely to him a cloud had lain between them which the girl
strove in vain to lift. If not his heart, at least his mind and
his purposes were locked away from her. Save for what he had
in a measure' revealed that night, his intentions were as much a
mystery to her as to any one else a mystery at least as far as
the means by which he proposed to meet his end were concerned ;
but of the nature of that end she had not a moment's doubt.
Many women would have deceived themselves on this point,
many more would have acted on the opinion that a man's busi-
ness did not concern them, and that it was more convenient not
to know of methods which conscience might possibly be forced
to condemn, and which would perhaps interfere with the enjoy-
ment of results when obtained. But such convenient sophistry
and blindness were not possible to this girl. She not only
loved the man with a simplicity and directness of passion un-
known to more complicated natures, but the very greatness of
her love enabled her to see where he was weakest, and to lend
an agonized strength to her desire to save him. She knew, and
she alone, in what temptation he stood, what peril to his honor
and his soul. She could not approach him again with words

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 525

unless he gave her the opportunity to do so ; but her eyes
pleaded with him ceaselessly ; and he, reading their meaning
well, turned impatiently from glances which he did not intend
to heed.

But one person, at least, was very well satisfied with the
state of affairs, and that was Vyner. He had no more trouble
with his miners. Fernando managed them admirably, and there
were no more frictions, no more complaints, threatened insubor-
dination and loss of valuable men to irritate him. All things
went smoothly now, his orders were executed with fidelity and
despatch, and if, after the lapse of a month, they were no nearer
finding the lost lode than they had been at first, it was not
for want of diligent work, money lavishly spent, and science ap-
plied in the most praiseworthy manner. The last, however, did
not meet with the approval which no doubt it deserved, from
the Mexicans. They, who knew but one mode to work a mine,
and that is to get at the metal in the shortest way possible,
regarded with a wonder not unmixed with contempt the vast
amount of what they considered useless work undertaken by the
young Englishman on scientific principles. " The mine has never
been worked at all," he remarked more than once to Sandoval.
4t It has been burrowed into, and a great deal of metal extracted,
no doubt ; but it has never been opened so as to be really
worked to any advantage."

" It has only yielded about a hundred millions," said the
Mexican calmly, " which looks as if it had been worked to very
great advantage. But it is not our habit to put a fortune into
a mine in extensive works before we take anything out."

" Unless a mine is well opened at the first, you can never
tell where you are or what you have got. It is all a matter of
chance, and you are liable to lose your lode at any time as it
has been lost here," Vyner replied. " Now, when I strike the
vein there will be no more danger of loss. The lode will be
found once and for all."

" Yes," said Fernando. There was no sign of amusement on
his impassive face. " And when do you think that you will
find it?"

" Within the next fortnight," Vyner answered confidently.
" I am certain that the vein lies exactly in the direction in which
we are advancing, and when we reach it we shall find a large
body of metal. Put as many men as possible on the work and
press forward. I am growing very impatient to be able to re-
VOL. LIV. 34

526 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

port that I have found this lode, for the money expended in the
work has been very considerable."

Fernando permitted himself a slight, sardonic smile as the
other mounted his horse they had been standing at the entrance
of the mine and rode away. " No doubt," he said to himself,
" it has been considerable ; and you may spend ten, twenty, a
hundred times as much, and bore through the mountain, without
finding what you seek. So much for your science ! "

Comfortably unconscious of this contemptuous opinion, Vyner
rode down the steep mountain-path and, when he reached the
valley, took the short-cut across the lands of La Providencia.
It had become his habit to stop now and then at the hacienda,
where a courteous welcome always awaited him. He did not
pretend to disguise to himself from what source his gratification
in these visits was derived. Certainly it was not from his con-
versations with Don Ignacio interesting as these might have
proved to a different man nor yet from the cup of chocolate
Sefiora Sandoval was always ready to offer him. These things
would not have tempted him even once to turn aside from his
road and mount the hill on which the casa stood ; but the chance
of seeing Guadalupe did tempt him again and again. Had any
one suggested that he was in love with her, he would only have
smiled, for he thought that all possibilities of such passion had
long since been exhausted in his nature, if indeed they had ever
existed there. It was a sentiment very different from anything
so primitive (he would have said) which bound him in the
chains of a fascination not easily characterized to a woman in
distant England; but this entanglement did not interfere in the
least with the fancy which filled his vacant hours for the beau-
tiful Mexican girl, and made his visits to La Providencia so
frequent.

Not that it followed by any means that he always saw her
on these visits. Indeed he could not flatter himself that he ever
did see her except by accident, and an accident which was evi-
dently a matter of absolute indifference to her. The tranquillity
of her manner had never varied from that of the first day he
had seen her ; yet if there was any one for whom Guadalupe
felt a sentiment closely approaching to repugnance, it was to
this Englishman, who seemed to her to stand somewhat in the
guise of Fernando's tempter an unconscious tempter, it was
true ; but nevertheless one who had offered him an opportunity
which else he might have lacked. Therefore his visits were any-
thing but a pleasure to her, and she shrank out of sight when-

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 527

ever he entered the house, if such a thing were at all pos-
sible.

But on this afternoon it was not possible. Vyner was met
by one of the young men Don Ignacio's many sons were of all
ages and introduced at once into the house, although both the
heads of the family chanced to be absent. It devolved upon
Guadalupe therefore, who in the default of a daughter always
took the place of one, to come and offer the mariendo, or after-
noon chocolate, to the guest. He accepted it, more for the
pleasure of being served by her than for any other reason, and
on a table in one corner of the corridor a frothy cup of the
mild, sweet beverage was soon placed, together with a tray of
bread and cakes. As Vyner dawdled over the collation, at
which courtesy required that Guadalupe should bear him com-
pany, although Felipe, growing tired, soon found an excuse to
vanish, he felt very well repaid for his ride, of which this had
really been the objective point. The corridor, or gallery, on
which he sat extended on three sides of the open court around
which the house was built, the fourth side being formed by a
wall, through which a door led to the corrals beyond. Over
this wall a vine, bearing great clusters of purple flowers, flung
itself in wild luxuriance, forming a splendid mass of color ; in
the midst of the patio a tall palm-tree lifted its royal crown of
plumy foliage far above the house ; golden roses climbed against
the white pillars that supported the roof of the corridors, and
as the afternoon breeze entered the court and stirred the leaves
and blossoms, a waft of almost overpowering fragrance came to
Vyner from a great straggling bush of heliotrope just before
him. Never after did the odor of heliotrope reach him without
conjuring up the foreign, picturesque scene the sky of burning
turquoise looking down into the court so full of tropical forms
and colors ; the wide, shaded galleries with large, cool rooms
opening upon them ; the sound of women's voices talking voluble
Spanish in the kitchen, and the beautiful, delicate face of the
girl who sat opposite him, with a rebosa of some silky material
thrown lightly over her graceful head and flung in lines of per-
fect drapery across her shoulders. " What a picture she would
make !" thought the young man, although there was little of the
artist in his soul ; and then he found himself wondering what
was the meaning of the intent, almost wistful gaze which he met
more than once in her eyes.

"You will allow me?" he said, taking out his cigar-case after
having finally finished the cup of chocolate. " It is a charming

528 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

characteristic of Mexican ladies that they never object to to-
bacco and I cannot resist the pleasure of resting here a little
longer. The ride to the mine is a fatiguing one."

" You found everything going well at the mine, I hope," she
said with the wistfulness of glance he had already noted, and a
hesitation of manner new to her. " And my cousin he executes
your orders according to your wishes?"

" Admirably," answered Vyner, who felt for once disposed to
make himself amiable. " He is the most capable subordinate
that I have ever had ; understands at once what I wish done,
and sees that my orders are executed promptly and faithfully.
I shall always be grateful to Don Fernando for the relief from
annoyance which he has secured to me," he added, turning his
face aside to let out a delicate cloud of blue, fragrant smoke
from between his lips.

Because his face was turned he did not see the swift expres-
sion that crossed Guadalupe's. In truth his words of praise for
Fernando smote her with a hot sense of shame and reproach, as
if herself had been a traitor ; and these feelings were mirrored
for an instant in her sensitive countenance. But she clasped
her hands together tightly in her lap, under cover of the table,
and spoke with her usual quietness :

" And the lost lode is there a prospect that you will find
it ? "

He smiled. " It is only a question of time, finding that,'* he
said lightly. " It was lost because there was no scientific know-
ledge in the method of working the mine. We are approaching
the spot where I expect to strike it ; and in a few day I shall
be able to report how much of the old, fabulous bonanza is
left."

A flash of hope came into her eyes, giving them a sudden
radiance that was not lost upon Vyner, though he wondered a
little what he had said to account for it. Ah, if this were but
true ! if the lost lode could be found ! " Madre de Dios, grant
that it may be so ! " the girl whispered to herself. Whether Fer-
nando had failed in his plans, or whether he had abandoned
them, did not matter very much so long as the mercy of Heaven
saved him from actual treachery and dishonor. A wonderful
sweetness was in her face as she looked at Vyner.

" I hope that it may be so, seftor," she said earnestly. " I
trust that you may find the lode very soon. For you must be
in much suspense until it is reached, not knowing if it has been
exhausted or not. My cousin does not spare himself in your

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 529

service," she added, glad not to shrink from mentioning Fer-
nando's connection with the mine. " We hardly see him at all.
Night as well as day he is at the mine."

" Don Fernando is very vigilant," said Vyner, " but I am not
responsible for monopolizing so much of his time, seflorita. Of
late we have not been working in the mine at night."

He did not think of the significance his words might bear
until he was startled by their effect upon her. The light died
out of her eyes as suddenly as the flame of a candle is extin-
guished, and she turned pale to the lips. Vyner could not doubt
that his information had dealt a blow how deep he could only
guess by the expression of her face. He saw at once that Fer-
nando had cloaked absences from home by a pretext of work
in the mine that did not exist ; but why Guadalupe should be
so much concerned thereat he did not know. He was only sorry
that he had so abruptly enlightened her.

" It is possible," he added, hesitating a little, in his doubt
what to say, " that he may have been working some of the men
at night without consulting me. He, too, is very anxious to
find the lode."

"Yes," said Guadalupe. Her lips felt dry and stiff, as she
uttered the word that seemed to her to contain a terrible irony
of assent. Anxious to find the lode ! That, then, was what Fer-
nando was doing in the long nights when she had lain awake,
listening vainly for his coming and praying for him. Her heart
turned sick with the revulsion from the hope of a moment be-
fore, and she dropped her eyes that Vyner might not read in
them the fear that filled her soul.

He read enough, however, to see that she was much disturbed,
and that his pleasant hour was over. With a very sincere in-
ward malediction upon Fernando, he rose to go. " There is
some mystery," he thought, as he rode away. " That cousin of
hers is after some mischief, which she suspects. But what is it
to her?"

VI.

In the strange chances of human affairs it is sometimes diffi-
cult to say what is due to accident, and what to that powerful
yet seemingly blind influence which the ancients called Fate, and
for which the moderns have found no better name ; but it was
apparently an accident, pure and simple, that turned Vyner's
conjectures regarding Guadalupe, and her concern over her cou*

530 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

sin's absence, into the channel of suspicion regarding the
mine.

It was about an hour after he had left the hacienda, as he
was nearing the town, riding slowly in the short but exquisite
interval between sunset and nightfall, that he overtook a man
walking with long, elastic steps by the side of the road, who
turned and saluted him. Vyner knew him at once as one of
the miners, whose stalwart frame and intelligent face he had
often remarked, and in this idle moment there seemed nothing
better to do than to draw rein by his side and exchange a few
words, while observing the effective picture he made as he kept
step easily with the horse a tall, straight, finely-formed figure,
with head superbly poised and features of striking regularity, the
clear bronze of his skin contrasting with his white cotton gar-
ments and the red blanket he carried flung over his shoulder.

" And so, Antonio," said Vyner, " you are on your way in to
town. It is a long walk after a day's work ; do you take it
every night ?"

" Yes, sefior," the man answered, looking up with dark, liquid
eyes under the shade of his wide sombrero. " Since we no
longer work in the mine at night, I prefer to go to the town.
The walk is little to me I am strong. And Don Fernando
does not wish the men to remain at the mine," he added, after
a pause long enough to give a shade of significance to the
words.

Vyner was conscious of a sense of surprise, but he did not
answer for a moment. Then he said quietly, " Why does he ob-
ject to their remaining ?"

The man lifted his shoulders with the gesture which signifies
many different things. " Quien sabe ? " he replied in the invaria-
ble formula of his people. " We only know that it is his wish
that no one but the watchman should remain near the mine at
night ; so most of the men sleep in the village at the foot of
the mountain, but I prefer to go to the town."

There was a moment's pause, while the man's feet and the
horse's feet beat time together on the dusty road and the last
fires of sunset burned above the blue mountain crests. Vyner
was looking straight before him, but he did not see either the
light, flame-tinted clouds, or the broad, white highway that
stretched to the yellow walls and masses of green foliage which
marked the town. Instead, he saw, without a conscious effort
of memory, Guadalupe's pale face with its startled expression ;
and an instinct was borne in upon him that there was some

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 531

connection between that expression and the information he had
just received. Why did she look so strangely, so like one who
had received a blow, when she heard that the mine was not
worked at night ? And why should Fernando object to the
men remaining there at night ? Vyner's mind was acute enough
when once roused, and although he did not leap to a conclusion
sufficiently to say to himself that some treachery was on foot,
he felt a defined suspicion of his accomplished subordinate
which he determined to lose no time in putting to a test. He
would not condescend to question the miner farther, or to allow
him to suppose that matters were going on in the mine of
which he (Vyner) was ignorant, although there was something
in the man's glance which seemed to convey a hint of warning.
But this sign of intelligence only made the young Englishman
more resolved to give no opportunity for additional disclosures.
Whatever was to be learned, he would learn for himself, not
from servants or spies. When he spoke again, therefore, it was
to ask some indifferent question connected with the progress of
the work, and a few minutes later, as they were close upon the
town, he touched his horse with the spur and rode on.

But it was impossible to ride away from the thoughts which
had been suggested, and indeed he had no desire to do so.
His languid indifference fell from him like a garment ; the mere
suspicion of being fooled and betrayed roused all the fire that
was in his nature, and he did not look like a man who would
be very pleasant to deal with as, with bent brows and set lips,
he rode through the streets of the town to his own house.

There, three hours later, he sat on the corridor before the
sala, through the open door of which a reading-lamp and table
covered with books and papers showed invitingly. But these
things had no attraction for him to-night. He preferred the
semi-obscurity of the wide corridor, where he sat smoking and
looking at the flower-filled patio flooded with lustrous moonlight,
for, like a great silver balloon, the moon was riding high in the
violet heaven. Of the beauty of lunar radiance in these regions,
elevated so far above the surface of the earth into the tropical
sky, language can give no idea. But just as the sunlight pos-
sesses here a glory which lower and colder lands never know,
often weighing down the eyelids by dazzling excess of light, so
moonlight becomes an almost unearthly splendor, a divine white
lustre which renders the old familiar earth a veritable land of
enchantment, and turns night into a fairer, sublimated day.
Nothing could have been better than this brilliant light for the

532 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

purpose which Vyner was meditating, and when about half-past
ten o'clock a servant came to inquire if he should close the
house, he was astonished to receive an order to saddle a horse,

" Two horses, seftor ? " the man asked, hesitating an instant.

" No," Vyner answered. " What should I want with two
horses ? "

" I thought that since he is going out in the night, the
sefior would wish me to accompany him," the mozo replied, with
a surprise that was evidently for the question.

But Vyner, like most of his race, was physically fearless ;
and the thought of taking the man as a matter of precaution
did not occur to him. He was going on an errand which he
had no idea of confiding to any one, and he replied perempto-
rily that he wanted only one horse and would go alone. Alone,
therefore, half an hour later, he rode away, bidding the servant
be on guard to admit him without delay when he returned.

The lustre of the moonlight made everything as clearly per-
ceptible as at high noonday, when he rode along the silent
streets, between lines of close-barred, flat-roofed houses with
sharply accentuated shadows, around the plaza with its empty
stone benches, its motionless trees and plants, and the basin of
its fountain lying like a mirror in which the sailing queen of
night might see her fairness reflected, down the streets where
occasional groups of people were gathered about a still open
doorway, or a picturesquely draped man stood talking through
the window-bars to an invisible girl within. Once a party of
young men passed, singing softly with low, full-throated sounds,
and touching lightly now and then the strings of a guitar which
one of them held. But for the most part the streets were de-
serted, with only the bark of a dog or the ring of his horse's
hoofs to break their stillness, as he passed on out into the open
country, where the white glory lay spread over the wide plain
and encircling heights, revealing every feature of the scene with
magical clearness, while not a leaf stirred or animal moved.

The air was deliciously cool and fresh, the moisture of the
night sufficient to keep the light dust from rising, and the
expedition began to commend itself to Vyner as a rather enjoy-
able experience. For reflection had almost convinced him that
the suspicion which had suggested itself was absurd, that noth-
ing could be going on at the mine of which he was ignorant.
But it was as well to satisfy himself. Guadalupe's face still rose
before him in disagreeable connection with the words of the
miner ; and if the Seftor Don Fernando Sandoval was indeed

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 533

playing any tricks, he should speedily discover that he (Vyner)
was not a safe man to play them upon. So he rode on, along
the broad, white road, through the silent valley, while the night
seemed to grow more brilliant with every passing hour, so won-
derful was the radiance that rested like a mantle of silver over
the far-reaching landscape.

He entered as usual the gates of La Providencia, skirting
the hill on which the casa stood, but rising to a- level with it
as he reached the rear of its large enclosure. Everything here
was wrapped in a stillness as profound as that which rested
elsewhere ; and with its closed doors and high-encircling wall,
the house presented the appearance of a fort. Through an air
so motionless and so clear sound is carried far with wonderful
distinctness, and it was not surprising that the clatter of the
horse's feet on the stony hillside, which struck loud on Vyner's
own ear, should have penetrated with almost as much clearness
to another ear, strung tense with painful listening in the ap-
parently sleeping house.

For Guadalupe, lying wide awake, heard the first distant
hoof-stroke and sprang at once erect, saying to herself, " Fer-
nando ! " An instant carried her to the open window, and
there, as the sound came nearer, she recognized that the horse-
man was not approaching the house but passing by. She leaned
out, listening eagerly, all her senses quickened by apprehension,
and in a few moments was convinced that the rider, whoever he
might be, was going to the mine, since he rode toward the
mountain, and where else in those solitudes could any one be
bound ? Was he Fernando ? No one else (except Vyner, of
whom she did not think) was likely to be on horseback. If it
were Fernando, where had he been, and where was he going
now? Might she not intercept him and stop him, induce him
to listen to her prayers and abandon the dark work he had in
hand ? She knew the road ; it passed around the hill and after
a wide curve passed near the corrals at the back of the house.
Could she not speak to him there ? It was at least worth while
to make the effort, far better than to remain passive in power-
lessness and misery. She paused only to thrust her feet into
slippers and throw a shawl around her, then quickly and noise-
lessly sped out into the moonlight-flooded patio, where the air
was heavy with the languorous perfume of flowers, through the
back courts, past the stable where the mules and horses stood,
through a corral where the great oxen lay sleeping heavily near
their yokes and carts, into another where the cows, brought up

534 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

for the evening's milking, lifted their heads and glanced at her,
and so came to the wall which was the outward boundary of
the premises. Here she listened for a moment. Yes, she was
in time. The horseman was drawing near. Sharp and clear the
horse's hoofs rang now on the stillness of the night as the rider
leisurely mounted the acclivity and followed the road which
would bring him within a few feet of the wall.

But how should she communicate with him through the wall,
which was at least ten feet high, and in which there was no
gate ? This she had already settled in her mind. The wall was
built of rough, unplastered ajdobes, very thick, but worn and
broken in many places with the action of time and weather,
thus offering a rough surface on the inner side which it was
possible for any one with great agility, and indifference to
abrasions of skin, to climb. Guadalupe felt certain that, nerved
by her present purpose, she could climb it. She swept one
glance over the surface to ascertain the best place for her ven-
ture, and then began to climb, clutching the points offered by
the rough bricks with her delicate hands, and setting her small
feet with desperate energy into the cavities from which they
too often slipped. At another moment she must have failed,
for the effort was indeed a desperate one ; but the sound of
those nearing hoof-strokes rilled her with the strength and cou-
rage of despair. Another instant and Fernando must be gone
beyond her reach. What did anything else matter in com-
parison to saying one word to him, one word which might have
the power to move him ! Clasping afresh the sharp and brittle
points of brick, she raised herself with convulsive energy and
looked over the wall. The rider was just abreast with the spot
where she stood, and in the white radiance of the moonlight
she saw him clearly. For a moment she hung, motionless as if
suddenly carved in stone, with the words she had been about
to utter frozen, as it were, on. her lips. Her dark eyes distend-
ed as she looked at him ; but he rode by, unconscious of their
gaze, and when she saw him turn up the mountain toward the
mine she dropped, heedless of her torn and bleeding hands, to
the foot of the wall and lay there for an instant as if she had
fainted.

But it was only for an instant. Terror roused her quickly
to action and life. She grasped the situation almost without
thought. Vyner had heard or suspected something, and was on
his way to the mine to verify the report or suspicion. And
Fernando was there! Of that she was sure. What he was

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 535

doing she did not know ; only an instinct assured her that it
was something which would make a meeting with Vyner of ter-
rible danger to both men. What could she do ? Ah ! pitying
God, what could she do? Go and warn Fernando? Was that
possible ? Yes, she said to herself, with Heaven helping her, it
was possible. Vyner, it is true, was on horseback ; but the road
was circuitous and very steep that wound up the mountain, and
he must ride slowly, while she knew the path which the miners
always followed in ascending and descending ; a straight and
terrible climb up the mountain's side, but counting barely two
miles, while the road covered five. If she could make those
two miles before Vyner accomplished his five, she might even
yet save Fernando from God alone knew what! Detection and
dishonor certainly, and crime perhaps, for if the two men met
who could say what result might follow?

" I can but try," she thought ; and gathering herself up, she
fled swiftly as she had come, passing like a spirit through the
sleeping animals, through the odorous patio where the arches
and pillars of the corridor lay in sharp, black outlines of shadow
on the pavement, and the household slumbered peacefully be-
hind their closed doors, and on the great front door, the mas-
sive portals of which were closely barred, while a mozo lay
sleeping on his mat in the arched passage that led to it. This
man was the only difficulty. If he waked well, she must run
the risk of that, and hope in such case to induce him to be
silent, but he slept heavily, and murmuring prayers, that slipped
from her lips like the beads of a rosary through the fingers, she
undid the bolts and bars that at another time would have de-
fied her strength, swung open the heavy door and darted away
like a greyhound into the white, silent night, taking the lonely
and difficult path that led up the mountain's steep ascent.

VII.

Little suspecting whose eyes had been bent upon him as he
passed the corrals of the hacienda, Vyner rode up the moun-
tain, pausing now and again at the turns of the winding way to
cast a glance over the wide prospect that lay below him flooded
with silver mist. The marvellous beauty of the scene, bathed
in this unearthly radiance, touched even his sluggish faculty of
admiration ; and as he mounted higher and the wonderful pano-
rama unrolled to its farthest mountain barriers, while the air

536 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

grew fresher and the violet heaven seemed bending nearer, he
admitted to himself that he was well repaid for this midnight
ride even if he discovered nothing.

And when he reached the mine it did not appear as if he
were likely to discover anything, or indeed as if there was any-
thing to be discovered. All was wrapped in the deep repose
of silence and absolute desertion. In the brilliant moonlight the
roughly-arched entrance of the tunnel which led into the mine,
with its massive door closed and locked, had something weird
in its appearance ; and unimaginative as he was, Vyner thought
of Old World legends of gnomes and elves and their treasures
buried in the deep hearts of the mountains. He dismounted
from his horse and, fastening the animal, looked around for the
watchman, but no sign of this functionary was visible. " Asleep,
I suppose," the young man said to himself, feeling more and
more convinced that there was no foundation for the suspicion
which had been excited in his mind. But in order to satisfy
himself that the watchman was on the ground, he walked
toward a hut near the mouth of the tunnel, where the man had
his quarters. The moonlight poured in at the open door and
showed his recumbent form wrapped in his blanket and stretch-
ed on the mat which makes the sole bed of the laboring class
of Mexico. His deep breathing was sufficient evidence that he
slept heavily, and Vyner's quick sense of odor assured him
that there was a special reason for this heaviness of slumber.
The peculiar pungent fumes of the vino de mescal filled the
small apartment, and testified that it might be easier to waken
a log than the man who lay sleeping under its influence. Vyner
stood for a moment looking down upon him. He was evidently
intoxicated, oblivious and unconscious of everything ; and on
perceiving this suspicion again wakened in the young man's
mind. With such a guardian anything was possible. He felt
now that he could not leave the mine without assuring himself
farther that no treachery was going on. But how could he
enter? The great fortress-like door was locked, and the key
was of course in the possession of Fernando Sandoval. He felt
so sure of this, that it was with no intention of searching for,
or hope of finding it, that his glance swept over the inside of
the hut and was attracted by a gleam of metal, as the moon-
beams fell upon a rude bench opposite the door. Revealed by
their touch, something lay shining there that bore the appear-
ance of one of the great keys that are fashioned in Mexico for

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 537

the most ordinary locks, and that might serve for the gates of
a mediaeval city. He made a step forward and took it up.
Yes, it was the key ; but why it should be lying there beside
the sleeping watchman raised another question in his mind. It
was as if some one, entering hastily, had laid the key carelessly
down and forgotten it. But who ? Vyner did not pause to
consider the question. With the key in his possession entrance
to the mine was assured, and turning quickly he left the hut
and walked toward the massive door set in the frowning rock.

As he emerged from the hut into the broad moonlight which
poured full upon the spot, a breathless, hurrying figure that had
just gained the edge of the forest paused with what barely
escaped being a cry and shrank trembling back into the shadow
of the trees. Poor Guadalupe ! Not for one instant had she
spared herself on the steep and terrible ascent. She who had
never before been outside the walls of her home without pro-
tection had not heeded the loneliness of the midnight and of
the forest, had not thought of possible danger to herself, had
not faltered over the exertion which would have taxed the
energies of the strongest man, in hurrying without rest or pause
up the almost precipitous mountain-side ; yet despite all, Heaven
had not heard her prayers she came too late ! The perception
of this, when she saw Vyner emerge from the watchman's hut,
seemed for a moment almost to annihilate her. The passionate
desire to attain her end which until now had upheld her was
in that instant extinguished in bitter disappointment, and her
physical frame simply collapsed. She sank down on the ground,
and so remained in the shadow, a dark, motionless heap.

But not for long. She had indeed failed in that for which
she had come ; she was too late to warn Fernando, but her
anxiety for him was none the less like a consuming fire. Was
he here ? was the meeting, the conflict she feared about to take
place ? She could not lie down and die from sheer exhaustion
while these questions were yet unanswered. She lifted her head,
dragged herself to her knees, and, sheltered behind the trunk of
a large tree, watched with eyes full of burning eagerness the
movements of Vyner. She saw him unlock the great door,
light a candle which he had brought from the watchman's hut,
and enter the mine. She followed with agonized gaze the last
flicker of his light as he disappeared in the tunnel. What
would he find ? She forgot to take comfort from the thought
that the door having been locked, he was therefore not likely to

538 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

find anything where he had gone. She only longed to follow
him, and knowing this was impossible, knelt trembling and pray-
ing in the shadow of the trees.

Vyner meanwhile had entered the tunnel, with his candle held
before him, but he had not taken many steps when he was sur-
prised by a peculiar noise somewhat like the beating of distant
drums, or the sound of machinery in motion, which, coming so un-
expectedly to his ears in a place where the quiet of the grave
usually reigned, startled even his steady nerves that were already
perhaps a little tried by the loneliness of the situation and the
possible danger of the errand on which he was bound. He stood
still, listening intently and conscious that his heart was beating
more quickly than its wont. But in a few seconds the whirring
noise came nearer and nearer, until he was encompassed by a
cloud of flying objects that surrounded the light in his hand and
flew in his face, nearly smothering him. He struck at them right
and left, and succeeded in clearing them away sufficiently to see
that they were myriads of bats which had been roused from
their slumbers in the roof of the tunnel, and attracted by the
light of the candle, rushed toward it. He recovered himself,
smiled at his momentary dismay, and, passing on, descended the
shaft which led into the mine and entered its lower levels. Here
stillness reigned, broken only by the musical sound of trickling
water as it percolated through the crevices of the rock, and fell
into the deep pool at the bottom of the shaft which formed its
receptacle, from whence the gigantic pump forced it to the sur-
face and thus drained the mine. In these dark galleries Vyner's
solitary candle made but a faint illumination, yet even its rays,
striking on the sides of the rocky walls, showed now and then
brilliant effects from the masses of metal, shining with moisture,
in which, like jewels gleaming out of the obscurity, the glistening
fragments of pyrites gave back the light. It might have been
the treasure-house of the gnomes indeed, to all appearance at
these moments ; but Vyner paid no heed to this delusive bright-
ness. What he sought were evidences of more real value. He
was determined to discover if anything was being concealed from
him with regard to the vein if perhaps the long-lost lode had
been discovered and the discovery not reported to him for such
was the definite form which his suspicion had taken. With this
end in view he made his way to the farthest point where the
work had penetrated, and there, holding his candle close to the
wall of rock, examined it with closest attention, foot by foot.

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 539

It was while he was thus engaged that a sound came to his
ear which startled him far more than the onset of the bats had
done, which, in fact, astonished him beyond measure, and almost
caused him to drop the candle from his hand.

It was the echo of a dull, distant thud, regularly recurring^
which only a practised ear could have distinguished in the first
place or understood in the second ; but Vyner had been enough
in mines to recognize at once the stroke of a miner's pick, the
sound of which came faint but distinctly audible through the
rock, as if from men at work far in the bowels of the earth.
Lost in amazement, he stood for several minutes listening, with
his sense of hearing strained to its utmost tension. Of the nature
and meaning of the sound he had not an instant's doubt but
where was it ? He had been through all the workings of the
mine and found them absolutely deserted. If there were any
other workings he was ignorant of their existence ; yet such
workings there must be, for he soon satisfied himself that the
sound proceeded from a point in advance of where he stood,
though not in the line of his drift. " By Heaven ! " he said
aloud, and his voice sounded strangely in his own ears, as it
rang hollow from the surrounding rocks, " there is dastardly
treachery here ! They are working on the vein, and they have
some secret entrance to the mine of which I know nothing ; but
I will find it ! "

He turned, fierce determination in every line of his face, all
thought of prudence forgotten, all recollection of the peril he
would incur if, alone and unarmed, he should come upon men
who might be rendered desperate by discovery. The idea of go-
ing away, and returning sensibly and safely on the morrow to
search, did not for an instant occur to him. Fury possessed him
the fury of a passionate man who feels himself tricked and de-
ceived. And one thought only filled his soul to find those who
were deceiving him.

With candle uplifted, ominously shining eyes under knitted
brows, and grimly compressed lips, he went again through all
the workings of this part of the mine, carefully examining if
there were any means of access to the point beyond, from
whence the sounds proceeded. But the closest scrutiny revealed
no way of approach, and he was finally constrained to the de-
cision that entrance must be sought from the surface. Pausing,
therefore, only long enough to locate the sound as well as possi-
ble and fix the necessary bearings in his mind, he took his way

540 THE LOST LODE. [Jan.,

back to the upper world, and presently came out from the tun-
nel to the white glory of moonlight and the fresh, cool air
beyond.

The contrast of the dark depths he had left to the divine
beauty of earth and heaven, would at another moment have
struck him deeply ; but now he was too much absorbed in the one
thought which possessed him to heed it at all. He did not pause
a moment, but, to Guadalupe's surprise, turned sharply and strode
up the mountain, which towered several hundred feet above the
small plateau before the entrance of the tunnel. He remembered
that higher up were the deserted mouths of many old shafts which
had been used in the ancient working of the mine, but were now
entirely abandoned, and he said to himself that of necessity it was
by some of these that the mine had been entered. He had fixed
the bearings of the betraying sounds below so well in his mind
that he had no difficulty in deciding where such a shaft would
probably be found ; and truly enough, when he reached the spot
there was the shaft ; the debris, which in daytime served to con-
ceal it, laid to one side, and its open mouth revealing the notched
pole which, set on end, serves for a ladder in all but the great-
est Mexican mines.

Of Vyner's prudence it is impossible to say anything, but of
his courage there can be no question, for recognizing at once
that this shaft was used for the purpose he suspected, he again
lighted his candle and without an instant's hesitation descended
into it.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

1892.] THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. 541

THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS.

THE approach of the great Exposition to be held in Chi-
cago leads our thoughts to recall with more than habitual inte-
rest the names of those illustrious personages upon whom, by
divine appointment, fell the mission to bring to the western
continent the boons of civilization and Christianity. It was
always entertaining to contemplate the career of Isabella of
Castile. Among the women who became great in empire, fame
has raised her name and memory the highest of all ; nor among
kings and emperors has ever been one who, considered all in
all, was more than, if indeed fully, her equal. Many particular
gifts a prince must have in order to be fit for the rule of a na-
tion already great and established in peace. But to take one
in smallness, weakness, and obscurity, and, by the discipline of
laws and other instrumentalities of domestic polity and through
long, exhausting wars, raise it to greatness, requires so many
more that it is not to be wondered upon how few they have
been bestowed. Rare is the combination of the qualities of ever
acquiring and ever holding ; of guiding in peace and in war ;
the rigorousness of a conquering monarch over enemies, domes-
tic and foreign, with purest patriotism and with tenderest com-
passion for suffering of every kind and degree ; the courage of
persistent, absolute, annihilating conquest with the love of peace
and liberty undiminished and untempted ; and all these inspired
and regulated by reliance upon celestial support, the same in all
phases of fortune from the beginning to the end. In all these
gifts this earth, in our opinion, has never produced a prince
who was quite the equal of Isabella.

Misfortune, even bare neglect, during the periods of child-
hood and youth, are benign things to spirits exalted enough to
comprehend their value, and so in after-times to look back to
them, not only without bitterness but with gratitude. The
aversion of her brother, sprung mainly from the consciousness
of his inferiority by every scale of comparison, suffered her, like
the English Elizabeth at Hatfield, to live in the seclusion of
Arevalo, where she got such education as was possible, learning
and practising the duties becoming a gentlewoman no more, no
kss. Against her will as much as her sense of duty to the
country and her family, malcontents, among them the best men
VOL. LIV. 35

542 THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

in the kingdom, noting the general suffering from that brother's
misrule, would have made her head of a party in opposition to
him. Her persistent refusal to give countenance to the move-
ment did not subdue the apprehensions of the profligate weak-
ling. These were exasperated more intensely when his scheme
to marry her to one of his favorites was thwarted by a resolu-
tion as strong in resistance as it was destined to be in advance.
Rather than be made to wed a suitor who was not of her
choice, she escaped to Valladolid, and, after a tryst with Ferdi-
nand of Aragon, first gave him her heart and then became his
wife. When this brother died and the way was rightfully open-
ed, with the womanly modesty which had marked her behavior
in the seclusion of girlhood, and of a young wife thitherto poor
in every sort of dowry save youth, health, beauty, virtue, affec-
tion, and an understanding whose compass was far beyond what
she or her husband believed to exist, she ascended the throne.

The student of history knows well the conditions of Castile
and Aragon at the union of these two young princes, so fit for
each other in gifts and opportunities. In both countries society
had more immunity from oppression by the crown than that in
any other European monarchy ; that is, society among the
upper classes. These might but they did not oppress the lower,
because, outside of the claims of feudal affection, sprung from
protection and loyal following, their interest prompted to cle-
mency and indulgence, and the wearer of the crown was warn-
ed against rash interference with control that was claimed for
their own.

It was an auspicious union of beauty most excellent with
manhood the knightliest. Yet the bride, however shining in
loyalty to conjugal affection and obligation, must not forget
what was due to the memory of her forefathers and to her peo-
ple of Castile. A short speech was attributed to Ferdinand not
long before the marriage one of those brief utterances which,
being easy to remember when spoken by men in high place,
prove often far more consequential than studied, elaborate
harangues. It was as to what he would do and would not do
when become husband of the queen of that proud people. It
was not unnatural for a young prince, strong and gallant, to
feel and even give expression to a prophecy of how he would
use such splendid opportunities. Yet, young as she was, thither-
to obedient to maternal and marital control, with all womanly
modesty in spirit, simple in manners, tastes, and ideas, devoted
as any wife in all Spain to him who was to be father of her

1892.] THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. 543

children, she remembered then and she never did forget that it
was she, and not her husband, who was sovereign of Castile.
He covered, as a man with extraordinary grace of personal
manners may cover, outward expression to chagrin at the dis-
appointment of a confident hope. He let her cling to him as
a wife whose dependence, despite some known infidelities of his
own, was as true-hearted as that of any other woman in the
whole world ; and in time, when he found that he could not do
otherwise, he bowed before her as a sovereign who was as much
a sovereign in her own hereditary kingdom of Castile as was
Louis XI. in France or Henry VII. in England.

It was well for Spain and for civilization that it was so.
Castile had become chiefest among the kingdoms of Spain, hav-
ing absorbed Leon, Estramadura, and Andalusia. Above was
Aragon, the independent spirit of whose many chiefs made of it
rather a weak republic than a vigorous monarchy, and below was
the kingdom of the Moors, whose conquests in arts and in arms
for many centuries had been threatening the destruction of
Christian institutions and ' ideas in all western Europe. Need
was to all Spain of a prince competent for all the exigencies of
statesmanship and warfare. Conquest of this people to the last
stronghold was as necessary as the extinguishing of a devouring
fire. This young woman, simple, chaste, devout, recognized this
necessity as clearly as the great rulers in all times have compre-
hended the difficulties and dangers upon whose resistance and
overcoming have depended empire and peace. Giving to her
husband all of herself except what belonged to God and her
country, she understood too well the highway of her own des-
tiny to devolve upon him its conduct. Therefore the ministers
whom she placed in the lead of public affairs were chosen by
herself, sometimes adopting suggestions of Ferdinand, more often
acting against what were known to be his desires in behalf of
his own family or his favorite followers. Deviating from the
habits of predecessors, who were wont to select among the great
lords, her penetrating eyes were ever searching for fitness,
whether among grandees or hidalgoes, clergy or lawyers ; and
when found, she brought it into her service and afterwards
trusted, supported, and rewarded it. Mendoza and Gonsalvo,
each of whom was to become among the most famous of all'
time, were of her making. Courage and virtue must triumph
when moving hand-in-hand. The high exaltation of some
individuals among the clergy for a time led to apprehension
that religious zeal might lead to the slighting of some part of-

544 THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

what was due to the civil liberties of the people. Yet it was
shown that she was as patriotic as devout ; that instead of
subtracting from those liberties, she felt it to be her mission
to protect, enlarge, and extend them. A signal instance in
evidence of the truth of this occurred in 1486, after a riot at
Truxillo, which had been incited by certain priests, at which, in
defiance of the civil authorities, a person was rescued along with
his companions in prison. When news of the outrage reached
the queen .orders, destined to receive prompt obedience, were
despatched for the arrest and punishment of the leading rioters,
and banishment 'from the realm of every ecclesiastic among
them. This, with several similar occurrences, served to fix in all
minds the assurance that the powers of the royal prerogative
were lodged where they would be exerted for the conservation
and the exaltation of every constitutional privilege appertaining
to every subject.

When a sovereign can thus conquer the hearts of his peo-
ple, he has put out of his way the most important difficulty be-
fore the advancement of his policy. The ultimate aim of that
policy with Isabella was to unite the separated states of Spain
under a government great, just, benignant, Christian. Ineffably
sweet to her heart, both as queen and as mother, was the birth
of her first-born son to rule in his single person the kingdoms of
Castile and Aragon. The beauty of his childhood and youth
gave a promise so felicitous that none could entertain a fear
that Heaven would disappoint it. At all events, she to whom
it was fondest and dearest would trust it with Heaven while
going on with her own appointed preparatory work. In her
mind was fixed an idea as assured as the consciousness of her
own being : it was that conquest and expulsion of the Moors
were inevitable contingencies in the affairs, not only of Castile
and Aragon but of all Spain and all Europe. As for the exis-
tence of amity between the two peoples, it would have been as
vain to expect that as the peaceful coalescence of any two ele-
ments in the physical world between which from the very be-
ginning nature had put perennial hostility. The Moors, more
acquainted with arts, had conquered and had they been able
would have enslaved or extinguished and they had actually cast
out the original inhabitants, their advance having been stopped
only by the mountains of Asturias. In time the conquered be-
came learned in the arts by which they had been overcome, and
then they turned upon their conquerors and recovered what had
been lost, except the territory whose chief head was at Granada.

1892.] THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. 545

Vast debts from governments to peoples, unpaid and growing
larger through wars of generations, bore with sorest pressure.
Nothing in the inheritance devolved upon her gave so much
concern as these debts. Yet the duty to continue the prosecu-
tion of a war which six centuries had not brought to an end
was felt like the obligation to hold on to the worship of the
God of her ancestors and commend to his protection her chil-
dren and her people.

Interesting as it is to read histories of the big wars of all
periods, perhaps more so than any other is this last of the
struggles of Spaniards and Moors. Romance along with historic
narration imparted to it a charm that belongs not to the others.
The softness of melancholy is upon the recital, whether in verse
or in prose, of the last heroic endeavors of a brave people to
hold possessions which, so long had been the period of their
occupation, seemed to them a rightful inheritance which Heaven
had decreed to be theirs and the country of their posterity for
ever. Joined to love of country was a devoutness as ardent
and undoubting as that of the Christian. The Moor referred his
cause and his quarrel to the God of battles with the same san-
guine hope and the same confidence in their righteousness. It
was the bravest of all wars, because it was fought both for exis-
tence and religion, equally dear to both the combatants. Poets
were there among, and beauty, not too far aloof to be out of
sight, waved her lover from battlement and from hill-top behind
the vega red with blood. When all was over the conquerors
lifted high the Te Deum in temples now made Christian out of
mosques wherein the Holy Name, when mentioned at all, had
been postponed to that of the prophet of Mecca ; while the
vanquished, sighing " Such was the will of Allah ! " bade un-
complaining farewell and, turning, took the path leading to the
home of their forefathers far away. These wars that are waged
for exterminations and banishments, and that are followed by
them, are the mournfulest to think upon among the sufferings
and the sorrowings of mankind. The Creator, to whom mistakes
of every sort are impossible, has permitted them both to the
Hebrew and the Christian. In this conflict each belligerent
recognized that victory was necessary to existence, and foreknew
that defeat would be followed by destruction.

In all this while the greatness of Isabella was exhibited upon
a scale of pre-eminent glory. If the prosecution of the war had
depended upon Ferdinand and the Spanish commanders, it
would have been abandoned during the siege of Baza. The

546 THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

king and the Marquis of Cadiz had lost heart before what
seemed insurmountable to successful assault. The queen, ap-
prised of this condition at Jaen, where, with her children, she
was sojourning, sent despatches which speedily cast out despon-
dency from the leaders and the army. It was a time for de-
spondency in all hearts except hers. Five months had passed
in fruitless beleaguerment. The besieged were jubilant with
confidence that the autumnal storm, which never had failed to
come, must demoralize the besiegers when they should find them-
selves cut off from supplies across the streams and over the moun-
tain ways, which were sure to be rendered impassable. The
storm did come, and with unwonted fury. In the midst of its
very first ravagings words came from the queen telling of what
she was doing and what the army must do. Six thousand men
were set to repairing the ways, constructing others by which
goers-in and comers-out might evade obstruction, and abundant
corn, bought up in Andalusia, was transported on the backs of
fourteen thousand mules across the Sierra. The money supplies,
which had been exhausted, were reinforced by loans from indi-
viduals and from corporations upon her personal stipulation, and
from the merchants of Valencia, Barcelona, and other cities by
pledges of her own and the jewels of the crown. Such beha-
vior filled with spirit amounting to enthusiasm the whole nation,
and won an amount of admiration and affection such as no
other monarch ever received. Added to all these, she provided
hospital arrangements for wounded and sick, the first of their
kind in the annals of warfare. Among these and upon the field
she went in person, comforting and encouraging to the degree
that it would have been impossible to ask of any what they
would not have undertaken at her bidding. From the battle-
ments of Baza the sight of her, as she moved like a tutelar di-
vinity among her soldiers, smote the besieged with dismay, and
the alcaide in command was forced to surrender. Then the
monarch, who was at Gandix, recalling the prophecy of Abdal-
lah, thitherto uncredited, that even Granada in time must fall,
waited not the approach to this stronghold, but resigned it with
Almeria and all their dependencies, moving away with these
pathetic words : " What Allah wills he brings to pass in his own
way. Had he not decreed the fall of Granada, this good sword
might have saved it ; but his will be done ! "

The siege and fall of Granada, the queen city of all, read
like the most thrilling of romances. Around the last struggles
of the Moors gathered glory equal to the most heroic of all

1892.] THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. 547

time. No courage is like that of men who, feeling that they are
the doomed of destiny, wish to die in no other way than in the
anguish of resistance made reckless from despair. The height of its
manfulness and the -extreme of its pathos are attained when,
for the sake of the weak and the defenceless among its following, it
declines to combat to the very last breath. There was weeping
and mourning, as there was gladness and triumph, when Moslem
rule went back beyond the sea over which it had come. Wit-
ness to all was the great queen, who was almost continually with
her army, often exposed to its dangers, and watching with eager
eyes the knightly deeds of Christian and infidel. No conquering
hero ever felt warmer compassion for the griefs of the vanquished.
In all Granada no wife, widow, or maid had higher admiration
and respect for Boabdil and Abdallah, in whose hands the last
of the Moslem swords were broken.

Female sovereigns whose reigns were exercised much in wars
have been, for the most part, bloody-minded. " De aimatos
koreso !" cried Tomyris, of the Massagetse, as . into a skin filled
with blood she plunged the head of Cyrus. Much like her were
Semiramis and Boadicea and the Russian Catherine. But this
queen was clement. Her best praise is that, in a period when
wars were incessant and necessary, her whole being shuddered
at the shedding of blood, and at the sufferings inevitable to vic-
tors and vanquished. It was thus with the Moors, treatment to
whom her wishes as her commands were to be dealt with what-
ever sparing was consistent with conditions which Heaven had
imposed. So it was in the Italian war, in the history of whose
early operations is recorded an instance wherein it seemed for a
time that her orders to her general not to seize upon an oppor-
tunity favorable to advance had endangered his whole army, but
wherein her -horror of blood, whose shedding she believed might
be avoided, was rewarded by the solution which she had hoped
and prophesied. As for the religious wars, foreign and domestic,
during that age, and those before and after, to us now they
seem perhaps the most inexplicable of all, whether mandatory or
permitted of Heaven. There is something outside of the natural
appetency of the human mind to enforce when it cannot peace-
ably impart its opinions. There is none who can entirely com-
prehend the castings out and the annihilations of the heathen in
Hebrew story. The Son of Man, so lowly born, so obedient
and humble, so patient of sorrows undeserved, so submitting
without complaint to poverty, hunger, buffetings with hands,
smitings with rods, crowning with thorns, and anguishing upon

548 THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

the cross, so counselling like endurance yet came into the world r
as he said, to bring not peace but a sword, and by that sword
millions on millions have perished, from Ananias the guilty, and
from Stephen the guiltless. Along the way of that fearful
prophecy, cruelty, mere cruelty cold or impassioned, is to be
charged to the account of many a prince, man or woman ; but
it cannot be said with truth that it soiled the escutcheon of
Isabella of Castile. What in the apparent necessities of religious
reform she was driven to permit, she could not have hindered
any more than she could have diverted the great rivers whose
destined inevitable home is the sea. In the comparison of her
with Elizabeth Tudor, men with minds thoughtful and just, with
whatever religious opinions, are beginning to recognize at last
how far above has risen, how farther above is rising, the fame of
the Spaniard. Elizabeth, with little dread for her own security,
with less concern for any religious faith, but mainly because she
was envious, revengeful, and powerful, inflicted imprisonment,
spoliation, banishment, and death even in the times of peace, and
when she was listening to adulations more extravagant than ever
were poured into a despot's ear. While she would be holding
high festival with her favorites and parasites, with thought of no
life but the present, and the weal of none like that of herself,
her High Commission Court was hunting and entrapping, and
condemning by means more atrociously wicked than before her
time it had ever entered into the mind of the wariest and hard-
heartedest inquisitor to conceive. Among these means were
those celebrated " interrogatories," which even Lord Burleigh, in
a season of temporary disgust and horror, declared to be " so
curiously penned, so full of branches and circumstances, as he
thought the inquisitors of Spain used not so many questions to
comprehend and to trap their preys." Isabella, humble, devout,
simple in the discipline of her household, pitied distresses which
she could not do other than pity and strive to mitigate. In the
exercise of her prerogative she commuted the punishment ad-
judged to the man who nearly assassinated the husband whose
life was dearer to her than her own, and times were many, very
many, when her clemency was interposed between offenders and
sentences when these seemed too rigorous, or when she believed
or hoped that pardon or commutation would be more salutary
than execution. Persecution in any form and for any cause is
sorely to be deplored. We are considering here simply the
claim of a great and good queen for her name and memory
to be measured by the standards of fairness and historic truth,

1892.] THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. 549

particularly in the matter of an infirmity which of all is the one
most unseemly in the life of a woman high or low. Thus mea-
sured, her reign of thirty-five years constituted a period among
the most benignant as well as greatest in the world's history.

Less in degree than in the Moorish wars, yet there was ro-
mance in the affairs with Columbus from his first advent when,
at the gate of a religious house, he knocked and asked bread
for the motherless son by his side. He must wait and be an-
other witness to the prowess of those times ; petition and be
postponed for emergencies that pressed and must have their
way ; he must petition again and, at moments when his great
suit seemed about to prevail, be put aside again by men with
swords and couriers bringing news from the south frontier.
Then, when sick of delays and disappointments, turn away, de-
part, and afterwards be followed, brought back, trusted, and sup-
ported. Grandees and great merchants had listened to the words
which made pictures of the reputed riches in Cathay and other
realms of the far East, whither he expected to attain ; but the
interest of the queen was mainly in those eloquent predictions
when the religion of the Cross should be carried there. That
was the whitest of days whereon, convinced at last of the impor-
tance of the brave mariner's appeal, she cried with enthusiasm :
" I will assume this undertaking for my crown of Castile, and
am ready to pawn my jewels to defray the expenses if the
funds in the treasury shall be found inadequate."

More wondrous than all other stories is that of the great dis-
coverer ; wondrous in the triumphs which he won, and in the
sufferings which he endured from wrongs more wicked than
have ever been inflicted upon innocence and merit since this
world began. But he was a man who could say with truth :

" My spirit walked not with the souls of men ;
The thirst of their ambition was not mine ;
The aim of their existence was not mine ;
My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers
Made me a stranger."

It is touching to read, among other things in his great ca-
reer, of his gratitude to the queen and his grief at the news of
her death. Jointly they had done for mankind the grandest
thing in all time. When one was taken the other knew that for
him was nothing left but misfortune.

The excellent greatness of this queen was conspicuous else-
where besides during the conduct of wars. In the seclusion of

550 THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. [Jan.,

Arevalo she learned to love what good literature was to be had,
and, after coming to the throne, did what may be considered
almost prodigious with what facilities then existed for the diffu-
sion of letters among her people. It was quite before the art
of printing. Yet she became earnestly concerned in the collect-
ing and copying of manuscripts, and at the founding of the
Convent de los Keys, at Toledo, in 1477, such as she had gathered
were bestowed upon its library. Others gotten afterwards were
deposited among the archives of Simancas and elsewhere, des-
tined after a time for places in the great library of the Escurial.
Learned scholars were invited from abroad, and rules were made
for the protection of copyright, for the recognition of which in
the new world which under her patronage was discovered four
centuries were required. Most conspicuous among these for-
eigners were the Italians, Peter Martyr and the brothers Geral-
dino. The former, captivated at his first coming by witnessing
the achievements and rewards of chivalry, believed that he had
been born for Mars instead of the Muses ; but his too-sensitive
spirit, after some essays upon the field, led him to lay aside the
sword and become a" recorder of knightly deeds instead of an
enactor. What things were done by him and Antonio and Ales-
sandro Geraldino went far beyond what was done in any other
country. The queen's daughters were instructed by them in such
learning as she believed that a woman ought to know. Yet her
extremest care was the education of her son John, in whom all
the brightest promises that ever came to the heir apparent of a
great monarchy seemed to have met. Rich and rare were the
opportunities put before him, and his docile spirit employed
them with eager assiduity. The advantages of private tuition
were blended with those that come from academic rivalries.
With much care training was imparted to the young sons of the
nobility, among whom, in the turbulent times of her predecessor
as during the Moorish wars, tastes for all themes and exercises, save
warfare, had disappeared. Of a spirit by nature serious, the
queen encouraged gay reunions among the young under salu-
tary restraints in order to win them from harmful frivolities.
Most solicitous for the education of men among her subjects for
the sake of the great offices which they were to hold, yet she
neglected not that of women. Among the accomplished scholars
in her time were the Marchioness Monteagudo, Maria Pacheco,
Beatriz de Gulindo, Lucia de Medrano, and Francisca de Le-
brija. Persons of these times who are used to much discourse
on the oppression and neglect of women in former periods might

1892.] THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. 551

be reminded .sometimes that of the last two mentioned, the
former was a lecturer on the Latin classics in the University
of Salamanca, and the latter on rhetoric in that of Alcala.
Erasmus, delighted with the results of these benign influences,
wrote about them in these words : " In the course of a few
years liberal studies were brought in Spain to so flourishing a
condition as might excite not only the admiration, but serve as
a model to the most cultivated nations of Europe." Under her
patronage university education, of little note theretofore, went
to- great height. Salamanca, with its seven thousand students,
was fondly named The New Athens. Even with it, if not be-
yond, came Alcala, where, chiefest of all literary achievements,
was executed and put forth the Polyglot version of the Holy
Scriptures. Like Alfred the Saxon, the queen made learning an
indispensable condition to ecclesiastical preferments, while mathe-
matics, astronomy, and kindred sciences were put upon a basis of
merited respectability, and jurisprudence rose high under the
lead of Montalvo. Already history had been studied in Castile
more extensively than anywhere else ; but under this reign it
assumed for the first time the dignity of scientific research and
narration. After the invention of printing, the country was
opened to books of every sort. German printers who came in
were exempted from taxes, and more assuring laws were enacted
for copyright protection.

Yet it was in polite letters that the best advance was made.
The Provencal in Catalonia and Aragon had yielded to the
national literature of Castile, which in time was to become con-
tinental. The Amadis de Gaula, originating in Portugal, became
naturalized in Spain, and upon it Montalvo built Las Sergas de
Esplandian, when romantic chivalry attained to its highest height.
Unexpectedly to all, higher yet rose the Spanish (oftener styled
Moorish) Ballad, of its kind the best in the whole world, cer-
tainly the most varied and national. Every condition of Spain
made it impossible for her to become other than romantic. The
classicism of the other Latin tongues was kept away by the
Moors, the Pyrenees, and the sea, and it never could supplant
what grew continually out of minds kept ever warm with the
glow of patriotism and religion. The Cid, that great exemplar
of knighthood, became the ideal of every manful endeavor, and
hardly passed a day in which occurred not something to be
commemorated in song. The Moor was a noble enemy, and
fair alike were the maids of Granada and Andalusia. On many
a night,

552

THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS.

[Jan.,

"When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise,"

a lover, indulging, like Troilus, a forbidden love, mounted his

guard,

"And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents
Where Cressid lay."

On the vega deeds of bravery between pairs of two, between
squadrons and armies, were enacted in more oft recurrence than
before Ilium and all the beleaguered cities of the world. The
stir and the pathos in the lyrics rehearsing these must keep
them alive as long as human ears can listen. They, even more
than chronicle and narrative, have made the siege of Granada
the most interesting chapter in history. We listen almost with
tears to the last sigh of the great captain of the vanquished, and
join in the respect to his request that the gate through which
he emerged for the last time when shut might so remain for-
ever.*

The family life of Isabella was marked by every virtue of
home and fireside. Singular was that union of independent sov-
ereignties with conjugal affection which, on the wife's part, never
had a blot nor a suspicion. Ferdinand indulged (though not too
offensively) other loves ; his wife, never. Her very last thoughts
were of the lover of her youth and married life, whose dust, un-
less he should will otherwise, she prayed might be laid beside

* We quote one of the most pathetic of these lyrics, with the translation, taken from Tick-
nor's History of Spanish Literature :

" Yo mera mora Moray ma,
Merilla d'un bel catar ;
Christiano vino a mi puerta,
Cuytada, por me enganar,
Hablome en algaravia,
Como aquel que la bien sabe :

" Abras me las puertas, Mora,
Si Ala te guarde de mal ! "

" Como te abrire, mesquina,
Que no se quien tu seras ? "

" Yo soy el Moro Macote,
Hermano de la tu madre,
Que un Christiano de jo muerto ;
Tras me venia el alcalde,
Sino me abres tu, mi vida
Agui me veras matar."
Quando esto oy, cuytada,
Commenceme a avantar ;
Viotievame va almexia,
No h'allando mi brial ;
Fuerame para in puerta,
Y abrila de par en par."

" I was the Moorish maid, Morayma,
I was that maiden dark and fair
A Christian came, he seemed in sorrow,
Full of falsehood came he there.
Moorish he spoke he spoke it well "

" Open the door, thou Moorish maid,
So shalt thou be by Allah blessed,
So shall I sare my forfeit head."

'-' But how can I, alone and weak,
Unbar, and know not who is there ? "

"But I'm the Moor, the Moor Mazote,
The brother of thy mother dear.
A Christian fell beneath my hand,
The alcalde comes, he comes apace,
And if thou open not thy door,
I perish here before thy face."
I rose in haste, I rose in fear,
I seized my cloak, I missed my rest,
And, rushing to the fatal door,
I threw it wide at his behest."

1892.] THE ROYAL PATRONESS OF COLUMBUS. 553

her own. She was too great to be made permanently unhappy
by personal disappointment and sorrow. She had to endure that
bitterest of pains to a virtuous wife who has not and could not
have but one love ; yet, unlike the daughter who was run frantic
by such things, she suffered in silence, and the only punishment
which she inflicted upon those who had come between her and
her husband was removal from her presence. The careers of her
children were unhappy. Isabella, her first-born, Queen of Por-
tugal, died witk her first-born child ; Juana became insane from
the neglect of her husband, Philip of Flanders, and Catalina
went to England to become the repudiated wife of Henry VIII.
But the grief sorest of all was from the death of her only son,
John, Prince of Asturias, who, in his twentieth year, had just
been united to Margaret, daughter of Maximilian the Emperor.
He was endowed with beauty, grace, culture, valor, and virtue
evenly with the high blood in his veins. Of all in both king-
doms he was the most well-beloved. Not more fond were the
hopes which had clung around the boy Marcellus, the elect heir
of Augustus. It was said that Octavia, his mother, fainted away
when Virgil, reciting in her hearing his verses on the untimely
death, whispered to bring

" Canisters of lilies and purple flowers '

to strew the bier. As great a grief was here ; but along with it
was a trust whose certitude forefended prostration, and dying
was as peaceful as living had been glorious.

RICHARD MALCOLM JOHNSTON.

554 COLUMBUS THE WORLD-GIVER. [Jan.,

COLUMBUS THE WORLD-GIVER.

WHO doubts has met defeat ere blows can fall,

Who doubts must die with no palm in his hand,
Who doubts shall never be of that high band

Which clearly answers Present ! to Death's call ;

For Faith is life, and, though a funeral pall

Veil our fair Hope, and on our promised land
A mist malignant hang, if Faith but stand

Among our ruins, we shall conquer all.

O faithful soul ! that knew no doubting low,

O Faith incarnate, lit by Hope's strong flame,
And led by Faith's own cross to dare all ill

And find our world ! but more than this we owe

To thy true heart ; thy pure and glorious name
Is one clear trumpet-call to Faith and Will.

MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN.

1892.] HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. 555

HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL.*

" THE momentous seriousness of the present state of things
(in the social order) just now fills every mind with painful appre-
hension ; wise men discuss it ; practical men propose schemes ;
popular meetings, legislatures, and sovereign princes, all are
occupied with it, and there is nothing which has a deeper hold
on public attention." With these words from the opening para-
graph of the late Encyclical serious men of all opinions agree.
But besides expressing an acknowledged fact, the Holy Father
gives at the same time a reason why so many and such con-
tradictory solutions of the problem have been presented. It
cannot but be, when "wise men," and " practical men," and
"popular meetings," and " legislatures," and "sovereign princes"
set about solving so complex a question as a universal social
disorder, that the results will vary between the widest possible
limits ; for men will be impressed by different and more or less
local aspects of the question, and their general solutions will
therefore be likely to take the hue of their special circumstances
and the character of the foundations they severally build upon.
That the problem, then, may be rightly solved, one thing is
clearly and absolutely necessary ; and that is, sound first prin-
ciples ; otherwise they who labor at the solution, who must
needs be many, will be like the builders of Babel, not under-
standing one another's speech. It is this fact, this need of pri-
mary principles, which moved the Holy Father to write his En-
cyclical : " The responsibility of the Apostolic office urges Us
to treat the question expressly and at length, in order that there
may be no mistake as to the principles which truth and justice
dictate for its settlement " (2).f Now, in the words of the En-
cyclical : " Our first and most fundamental principle, when we
undertake to alleviate the condition of the masses, must be the
inviolability of private property" (18). Therefore it is that His
Holiness devotes the first part of his letter to establish the right
of private property in general, and, incidentally, of private prop-
erty in land. This he does while refuting Socialism, which, in
its solution of the labor problem, starts with the doctrine of the

* The Condition of Labor: An Open Letter to Pope Leo XIII. By Henry George. New
York : United States Book Company, October, 1891.

t Numbers in parentheses refer to the paragraphs of the Encyclical.

556 HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. [Jan.,

community of goods, and so directly denies the right of private
property. With Socialism in general I shall not be directly con-
cerned, but I shall take up only that phase of it which is promi-
nently known to us in this country at the present time as the
system of Henry George. I shall first give a brief sketch of this
system, and secondly, examine some of his objections to the doc-
trine of the Encyclical, as they are set forth in his recent letter,
the title of which is placed at the head of this article.

"As to the right of ownership," Mr. George holds that from
the law of nature man has " a right of private ownership in
things produced by labor a right that the possessor may trans-
fer, but of which to deprive him without his will is theft." *
" This right of property, originating in the right of the individ-
ual to himself, is the only full and complete right of property.
It attaches to things produced by labor, but cannot attach
to things created by God. " f And he illustrates the differ-
ence between the produce of labor and what is created by
God by these examples : a man may own a fish which he has
taken 1 from the ocean, but not the ocean itself ; he may own a
windmill and what it enables him to produce, but" not the wind ;
he may own grain, but not the sun that ripened it nor the soil
on which it grew. As a matter of fact, nearly all things which
are to-day objects of private ownership fall within his category
of "things produced by labor." Land is his notable exception.

As to land, he holds that man can have only the right of
possession to it and not the right of ownership. " While the
right of ownership that justly attaches to things produced by
labor cannot attach to land, there may attach to land a right of
possession." ; His reason for this is summed up in the follow-
ing equivocal sentence, which contains the fundamental principle
of his whole system : " Being the equal creatures of the Creator,
equally entitled under his providence to live their lives and sat-
isfy their needs, men are equally entitled to the use of land,
and any adjustment that denies this equal use of land is mor-
ally wrong." In a word, God gave the earth for the use of
all men : therefore exclusive ownership of it or any part of it
by some men is against God's ordinance, and therefore wrong.
This right of possession the possessor of the land has the free
disposal of. " We propose leaving land in the private possession

* Letter, p. 5. f Ibid. % Ib. p. 6. Ib. p. 4.

1892.] HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. 557

of individuals, with full liberty on their part to give, sell, or be-
queath it ; . . . "* that is to say, the possession of it. Land,
therefore, according to Mr. George, is the property of the com-
munity, in the sense that each member of it owns an undivided
share in it by the fact that he is one of the community. I say
" undivided share," because he does not want a division of land
made among the individuals of society. " We do not propose
the task," he says, " impossible in the present state of society,
of dividing land in equal shares ; still less the yet more impos-
sible task of keeping it so divided. "t

Now, since the land belongs to the community, those who
actually possess and use it ought to pay the community for the
privilege of that possession and use. The individuals who use
land will thus become tenants of the state, to which they will
owe an annual rent. This rent will increase with the value of
the nude land ; the nude land, i.e., the land, simply, excluding
all improvements on it, which are the strict private property of
the user, itself " increases by reason of increasing population and
social progress." J A vacant lot in a growing city, v.g. t will in-
crease in value though no improvement is made on it. This in-
crease in value attaches to the lot " by the growth of the com-
munity," and "therefore belongs to the community as a whole."
And now, " since," in the words of Mr. George, "this [tax or
rent just mentioned, which 'shall equal the annual value of the
land itself, irrespective of the use made of it, or the improve-
ments on it ' I ] would provide amply for the need of public rev-
enues ; we would accompany this tax on land values with the
repeal of all taxes now levied on the products and processes of
industry."Tf Hence there would remain one tax only for rev-
enue. And here you have the political principle of the " single
tax " party. With this article of Mr. George's creed I have here
nothing to do ; I have only given it to complete this sketch of
his system. I shall speak only about his doctrine of ownership.
From what has been said, we see that he agrees with the Encyc-
lical in maintaining private ownership in general, and differs
from it, practically, only in denying private ownership in land.
I proceed, therefore, to my second point, namely, an examina-
tion of some of his objections to the arguments whereby the
Holy Father establishes the right of private property in land.

* Letter, p. 9. f Ibid. p. 9. J Ib. p. 14. Ib. p. 15.

lib. p. 9. lib.

VOL. LIV. 36

558 HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. [Jan.,

II.

I quote from the Encyclical : " It is surely undeniable that,
when a man engages in remunerative labor, the very reason and
motive of his work is to obtain property, and to hold it as his
own private possession. If one man hires out to another his
strength or his industry, he does this for the purpose of receiv-
ing in return what is necessary for food and living ; he thereby
expressly proposes to acquire a full and real right, not only to
the remuneration, but also to the disposal of that remuneration
as he pleases. Thus, if he lives sparingly, saves money, and in-
vests his savings, for greater security, in land, the land in such
a case is only his wages in another form ; and, consequently, a
working-man's little estate thus purchased should be as com-
pletely at his disposal as the wages he receives for his labor "(5).
Then the Holy Father draws the conclusion he is directly aim-
ing at, namely, that Socialists by denying private property
" strike at the interests of every wage-earner " the very men
whom they profess to help. I have quoted the argument in full
to illustrate a form of reply which Mr. George seems to have a
special affection for. How does he meet the argument ? Simply
by writing a parody on the reasoning, which makes it appear
that it leads to an absurd conclusion. By substituting the word
slave for land he makes the last sentence read : " Thus, if he
lives sparingly, saves money, and invests his savings for greater
security in a slave, the slave in such a case is only his wages in
another form ; and, consequently, a working-man's slave thus pur-
chased should be as completely at his own disposal as the wages
he receives for his labor." * And you see how the Pope sanc-
tions slavery by argument, while by other means he is trying to
repress it ! Cannot the dullest mind see the fallacy in this ?
Clearly it is in placing land and slaves on exactly the same
plane as objects of property. Let us make a few distinctions
and see what becomes of the objection. The labor of a man
may, under proper conditions, belong to another ; his person
cannot ; for all men are by nature equal ; they are metaphysi-
cally independent one of another ;. they have the same Creator
and are destined to the same end. How, then, can they be
chattels one of another ? Can as much be said for land ? does
it stand in the same relation to men as man does to man ? as
one immortal soul does to another ? Certainly not. It is, there-

* Letter, p. 27.

1892.] HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. 559

fore, absurd to argue, as Mr. George does, that because man
cannot belong to man, therefore neither can land belong to man.
He puts the two on exactly the same plane. Private property
in land and private property in slaves, in his judgment, " are
different forms of the same robbery."

Mr. George must first show that land .and men are in the
same category as regards ownership before he can logically test
the value of the Pope's argument by the substitution of the one
for the other. He abuses the same argument by making the
"Arab slave-hunters, in defending their right to the poor creatures
they have forcibly abducted, say, in the words of the Encyclical,
that these slaves are " only their wages in another form " ; as
though anything whatever, even the fruits of labor, to say noth-
ing of human beings, could be legitimate property if seized by
violence or under cover of muskets !

I pass now to the argument of the Encyclical which is spe-
cially directed against Mr. George's doctrine, namely, "that it is
right for private persons to have the use of the soil and the
fruits of their land, but. that it is unjust for any one to possess
as owner either the land on which he has built or the estate
which he has cultivated" (10). The Encyclical continues: "But
those who assert this do not perceive that they are robbing man
of what his own labor has produced. For the soil which is
tilled and cultivated with toil and skill utterly changes its condi-
tion ; it was wild before, it is now fruitful ; it was barren, and
it now brings forth in abundance. That which has thus altered
and improved it becomes so truly part of itself as to be in great
measure indistinguishable and inseparable from it " (10). And
what is Mr. George's reply to this rejoinder? "This contention,
if valid, could only justify the ownership of land by those who
expend industry on it. It would not justify private property in
land as it exists. On the contrary, it would justify a gigantic
no-rent declaration that would take land from those who now
legally own it, the landlords, and turn it over to the tenants and
laborers." '- All this is very poor logic. The Holy Father says:
Industry expended on land gives ownership in land. Therefore,
says Mr. George, only those who expend industry on land can
have ownership in land ! Money buys food ; therefore only money
buys food ! The Pope does not say that only labor expended on
land can give a right of ownership. Did not Mr. George just
try to show that when a laborer invests his savings in land he

* Letter, p. 39.

560 HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. [Jan;,

acquires no title to it ? But, he continues, this contention of
your Holiness, if valid, " would not justify private property in
land as it exists." " Land as it exists " is not what the argu-
ment is concerned with directly ; the Pope is clearly talking
about the first laborer on unclaimed land, for he says distinctly
of the land that its. condition is " utterly changed " : " it was
wild before, it is now fruitful ; it was barren, and it now brings
forth in abundance." Therefore, even supposing that the labor
expended on it " would not justify private property in land as
it exists" if it justified it in the case of the first laborer who ap-
plied his industry to it, Mr. George's theory falls. What he has
to prove in order to be even with his theory is, that nobody
could ever acquire ownership in land by expending labor on it.
It is clear that once grant ownership to a first cultivator of the
land, his title, being by its nature perpetual, could be transmitted
to his heirs ; so that his land, as it exists to-day, may indeed be
in the possession of those who never ran a ploughshare through
it or hoed potatoes on it, but who nevertheless hold a valid
title because they validly derived it from a valid initial title.

Evidently there is no force in Mr. George's inferences nor
logic either ; and it is for the latter reason only that I have
dwelt on his deductions from the passage of the Encyclical. He
continues : " What you really mean, I take it, is that the original
justification and title of land-ownership is in the expenditure of la-
bor on it." This has an appearance of truth, yet it is only half cor-
rect. It is again equivalent to saying that labor alone can give the
original title to land ; which is not at all contained in the Holy
Father's argument, nor indeed in the whole Encyclical. Labor is
one means of acquiring a title, but not the only means ; for oc-
cupation, as well, can give a title, though Mr. George calls it
"the most absurd ground on which land-ownership can be de-
fended." *

But even supposing labor to justify an original title to land,
this would not yet be enough for Mr. George ; for he says that
even this cannot "justify property in land as it exists. For is
it not all but universally true that existing land titles do not
come from use, but from force or fraud ? " f " Still harping on
my daughter," said old Polonius. " Land as it exists! " As
though to grant original titles were not amply sufficient to write
a Hie jacet over the doctrine of no property in land. The ob-
jection that existing titles came from " force or fraud " has an

* Progress and Poverty (Appleton, 1882), p. 309. t Letter, p. 40.

1892.] HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. 561

ancient flavor ; certainly himself and Mr. Spencer have by this
time acquired a prescriptive right to it. Suppose the assertion
to be true (a question I shall not examine), what follows that is
fatal to private property in land ? Nothing at all. If the land
was stolen from somebody, why it is as clear as the noonday
that then that " somebody " had a title to it ; otherwise it could
not have been stolen from him. Therefore you still have private
property in land, and the opposite theory goes by the board.
Or will Mr. George tell us that it was stolen from the state ?
But the state never owned it (in his sense) and never pretended
to own it. It was always the property of individuals. Or again,
suppose that the present title to a piece of land did originate a
century or more ago in force or fraud. Time in that case will
not indeed make the original wrong right, but immemorial pos-
session will make it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to
prove a better title against the existing one. Po'ssession is nine
points of the law, and the man who questions a long-standing
title, therefore, assumes the burden of proof. Both civil law and
equity recognize that while the original wrong will always re-
main a wrong, yet immemorial possession can, under proper con-
ditions, supply the defects in the title which grew out of it.
Let us turn now to another argument. Note what the En-
cyclical says, and see how it is misused by Mr. George. We
have already seen that the whole of the first part of the Encyc-
lical is devoted to proving against Socialists as a body, who
hold the doctrine of community of goods, the right of private
property in general, and incidentally of private property in land.
Now, one of the arguments the Holy Father urges against the
principle of exclusive ownership by the state is, that man being
older than the state, his sacred duties as head of a family gave
him the right of private property anterior to the formation of
the state. The Encyclical says : " For it is a most sacred law
of nature that a father must provide food and all necessaries for
those whom he has begotten ; and, similarly, nature dictates
that a man's children, who carry on, as it were, and continue
his own personality, should be provided by him with all that
is needful to enable them honorably to keep themselves from
want and misery in the uncertainties of this mortal life. Now, in
no other way can a father effect this except by the ownership
of profitable property, which he can transmit to his children by
inheritance. A family, no less than a state, is, as we have said,
a true society, governed by a power within itself that is to say,

562 HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. [Jan.

by the father. Wherefore, provided the limits are not trans-
gressed which are prescribed by the purposes for which it exists,
the family has at least equal rights with the state in the choice
and pursuit of those things which are needful to its preservation
and its just liberty" (14)' What does Mr. George say to this?
" With all that your Holiness has to say of the sacredness of
the family relation we are in full accord. But how the obliga-
tion of the father to the child can justify private property in
land, we cannot see. You reason that private property in land
is necessary to the discharge of the duty of the father, and is,
therefore, requisite and just, because " and he gives the very
words just quoted from the Encyclical. Now, does the word
" land " occur even once in this paragraph, or in any of
those to which Mr. George refers (14-17) as containing the ar-
gument he is objecting to ? Does the Holy Father restrict him-
self to land alone even by implication ? is he trying to show
that all fathers of families ought to leave property in land to
their children ? Not at all. What he proves is, as we have al-
ready said, that according to " a most sacred law of nature " it
is a duty for a father " to provide food and all necessaries for
those whom he has begotten," and that he ' cannot " effect this
except by the ownership of profitable property." Is " profitable
property " necessarily land, and land only ? Will not any kind
of profitable property meet the requirements of the argument ?
The Pope would hardly argue that every father ought to own a
small farm. He is proving, as already said, against the Social-
ists as a body, who maintain state ownership, the rights of pri-
vate property ; he had already shown those rights to exist for
the individual, and now he reinforces his conclusion by showing
how they " are seen in a much stronger light if they are consid-
ered in relation to man's social and domestic obligations " (12).
That this is the drift of the argument is clear, again, from the
Holy Father's conclusion : " The Socialists, therefore, in setting
aside the parent and introducing the providence of the state, act
against natural justice, and threaten the very existence of family
life " (16). Yet Mr. George must have it that " profitable prop-
erty " here means only land. " The profitable property your
Holiness refers to, is private property in land. . . . It is
. . . possible only for some fathers to leave their children pro-
fitable land. What your Holiness practically declares is, that
it is the duty of all fathers to struggle to leave their children
what only the few peculiarly strong, lucky, or unscrupulous can

1892.] HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. 563

leave and that a something [land, of course, since he admits that
the product of labor is just property] that involves the robbery
of others their deprivation of the material gifts of God." * Is
not this doing violence to an argument ? How does he prove
that "profitable property" means land and nothing else? He
continues in the same key : " What your Holiness is actually,
though of course inadvertently, urging is, that earthly fathers should
assume the functions of the Heavenly Father. It is not the busi-
ness of one generation to provide the succeeding generation with
' all that is needful to enable them honorably to keep themselves
from want and misery.' That is God's business." f And yet
Mr. George is in "full accord" with all that his Holiness has to
say of the " sacredness of the family relation." That it is "God's
business" to provide for "the succeeding generation " is indeed
true in the sense that his providence mediately and remotely
supplies the means of that provision ; but it is untrue to say
that he must immediately and directly provide each generation
with what it needs to sustain life. God operates in this world
mainly through secondary causes and agents. His providence, in-
deed, governs and cares for all his creatures, but this is not say-
ing that he lays no duties for the execution of this providence
on his creatures. He does not cease to be the Heavenly Father
because there are earthly fathers who have obligations to their
children. Therefore, when the Pope says that a " most sacred
law of nature " (which is nothing but God's will manifested)
obliges the parent to "provide food and necessaries for those
whom he has begotten," he does not supplant the Heavenly
Father by the earthly : on the contrary, he simply declares the
order which that Heavenly Father has himself established. Mr.
George himself says, speaking of the duty of father to child :
" Is it not so to conduct himself, so to nurture and teach it
[the child], that it shall come to manhood with a sound body,
well-developed mind, habits of virtue, piety, and industry? . . ."^
Now, can the father meet this duty, lasting for years and in-
volving much expense, without a store of property to draw from ?
Has he not, then, a right to some kind of private property because
of his obligations to his child ? And is not this the Pope's argu-
ment ?

In neither of these two arguments of the Holy Father is it
implied that this private property which the father owes his
children must be land. Any profitable property, as already said,

* Letter, p. 51. f Ibid. p. 52. J Ib. p. 53.

564 HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. [Jan.,

will suffice. Physicians, lawyers, or teachers may fulfil all the
requirements of the Pope's argument, even though they may not
possess a square foot of land. Mr. George is wrong both in his
assumption and his principle. Yet he attempts to support the
latter (and therefore his deduction as well) by quoting the Pope's
own words : " Nature [God] therefore owes to man a storehouse
that shall never fail, the daily supply of his daily wants. And
this he finds only in the inexhaustible fertility of the earth" (7).
These words are taken from an earlier part of the Encyclical,
where His Holiness is proving man's right to possess not only
the " fruits of the earth but also the earth itself," from the fact
of his reason and natural foresight. I say this lest it might be
supposed that there is after all explicit mention of land in the
argument under consideration.

The Encyclical itself explains the meaning of the passage
just quoted. Let me go back to what Mr. George says about it
where he first meets it in the order of his criticisms. This in-
stance of his manner of dealing with an argument shall be the
last I shall examine. After italicizing all the words of the pas-
sage as conceding him a first-rate premise, he deduces his con-
clusion : " By man you mean all men. Can what nature owes
to all men be made the private property of some men, from
which they may debar all other men ? "* The difficulty was fore-
seen by the Holy Father, who thus replies to it in the paragraph
immediately following the one from which the quotation is
taken : " To say that God has given the earth to the use and
enjoyment of the universal human race is not to deny that there
can be private property. For God has granted the earth to
mankind in general; not in the sense that all without distinction
can deal with it as they please, but rather that no part of it has
been assigned to any one in particular, and that the limits of pri-
vate possession have been left to be fixed by man's own indus-
try and the laws of individual peoples. Moreover the earth,
though divided among private owners, ceases not thereby to
minister to the needs of all ; for there is no one who does not
live on what the land brings forth. Those who do not possess
the soil contribute their labor ; so that it may be truly said
that all human subsistence is derived either from labor on one's
own land, or from some laborious industry which is paid for
either in the produce of the land itself or in that which is ex-
changed for what the land brings forth " (8). This is so clear as
to need no comment, and it disposes t>f the objection entirely.

* Letter, p. 35.

1892.] HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. 565

Yet Mr. George, who does not see the distinction pointed out,
that God gave the earth to all men in communitate negativa, but
not in communitate positiva, or at least does not see its force,
must have it that it is false ; and so, to show its falsity, he re-
produces the latter portion of the argument in the following
hypothetical transaction : " Suppose that as a temporal prince
your Holiness were ruler of a rainless land, such as Egypt,
where there were no springs or brooks, their want being supplied
by a bountiful river like the Nile. Supposing that having sent a
number of your subjects to make fruitful this land, bidding them
do justly and prosper [note the vagueness of the commands], you
were told that some of them had set up a claim of ownership in
the river, refusing the others a drop of water, except as they
bought it of them. . . . Suppose that then the river-owners
should send to you and thus excuse their action : ' The river,
though divided among private owners, ceases not thereby to
minister to the needs of all, for there is no one who drinks who
does not drink of the water of the river. Those who do not
possess the water of the river contribute their labor to get it ;
so that it may be truly said that all water is supplied either
from one's own river, or from some laborious industry which is
paid for either in the water, or in that which is exchanged for
the water/ " *

And this is meant to be an exact parallel to the way in
which the owners of private property in land have dealt with
their fellow-men in regard to the earth, which God has given to
" mankind in general " ! To begin with, we are not told that
this river and arid land were given to the subjects : they were
simply to make it "fruitful"; on what conditions? They are
commanded to " do justly and prosper " whatever may be the
precise meaning of this in the present concrete case, where evi-
dently what is " just " must largely depend upon positive orders.
But let us take it for granted, as seems to be implied, that the
river was given to the subjects. This might be done in two
ways, at least. Suppose, first, that the river was given to them
as a body, so that all should have equal undivided rights to it.
Evidently in this supposition the monopolists were unjust, not-
withstanding their defence, in appropriating to themselves what
was, by positive gift, intended for the use of all. Now, this is
the way Mr. George says God gave the earth to men ; it is

community property, and hence no individual can acquire private

* Letter, p. 37.

566 HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. [Jan.,

ownership in any part of it. But that God so gave the earth to
mankind in general is precisely what we deny, and what Mr.
George must prove. He has no right to suppose it proved, as
the example apparently does, and thence deduce the absurdity
of our doctrine.

Now, let us assume that the river was given in the second
manner ; namely, with the understanding that it should belong
exclusively to him who should first set up a claim to and occupy
it (supposing the river capable of ownership and occupation). In
this case the abstract rights of all before occupation were per-
fectly equal; but when these rights are made concrete by actual
occupation, they cease any longer to be equal. Had this been
the manner of the gift the defence would not have been quite
so lame.

Now, while we hold that God gave the earth to men in this
second manner, still the example is a very misleading illustration.
In the first place, it is absurd to consider a river like the Nile as
an object of private property. It lacks at least two of the
requisites of private property : it is not capable of occupation by
an individual, and is, besides, practically inexhaustible for the
purposes for which it may be used. According to the ex-
ample, it seems to have served for drinking purposes only. Think
of the absurdity of a squad of men trying to levy a toll on the
inhabitants of Egypt who came to drink of the waters of the
Nile ! Certainly any one could get all the water he wanted, even
though the river-bank were lined with notices from those who
" had set up a claim of ownership " in it. It is his disregard for
the conditions which are essential to private property which
makes Mr. George constantly place the wind, sun, and ocean on
the same plane as land respecting ownership. The three former
are entirely incapable of occupation, and can therefore never be-
come private property. How would he fence in the sun, or cul-
tivate the wind, or improve the ocean ?

Besides, the Nile in the example cannot be considered a
parallel to the earth for another reason. Under the circum-
stances of the location, its use is immediately necessary for the
very existence of every individual in the land. Therefore it
could never come into the exclusive possession of individuals.
This is not true of the earth. There are thousands upon thou-
sands of men who own no land whatever, yet who " live on what
the land brings forth." They have other property the profits of
which they exchange fcTr the necessaries of life.

1892.] HENRY GEORGE AND THE LATE ENCYCLICAL. 567

I have now examined enough of Mr. George's objections to
show what is in them. The remainder in his Letter are like these
both in manner and matter ; and one who reads them will not
feel that their author has made any headway against the brief
but very comprehensive and solid reasons for private property
in land contained in the great Encyclical of Leo XIII.

The truth is, that Mr. George's theories, besides being ethi-
cally unsound, sin against the highest form of human evidence,
the common consent of civilized humanity. Allowing the state
the uttermost extreme of the right of eminent domain, the univer-
sal practice of civilized nations has ever been to develop human
individuality from the trammels of tribal community of goods into
the personal and family independence of real-estate ownership.
This has been nowhere better shown than in the United States,
where the instinct of human nature, given fair play, has placed
upon our statute books those homestead and exemption laws,
those laws against primogeniture and entail, which have assisted
the intelligence and thrift of our citizens in the two-fold end so
strongly urged by the recent Encyclical : the rooting of the fam-
ily in the soil of the mother country by personal ownership, and
the preventing of that monopoly of land which is one of the
evils of the old world.

CHARLES A. RAMM.

St. Mary's Seminary, Baltimore.

568 MR. CAHENSLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. [Jan.,

MR. CAHENSLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE UNITED

STATES.

MR. PETER PAUL CAHENSLY, although a very worthy gentle-
man and a good Christian, was never heard of in America
till he began to misrepresent to the Holy See the condition
of the Catholic Church in the United States. He is a member
of the Prussian Parliament, and the general secretary of the
Society of St. Raphael " for the protection of German Catholic
emigrants."

Some years ago he came to this country and travelled
through it for a few weeks. While here he generally visited
with men of his own way of thinking and judging, who helped
to mislead him both in his statement of facts and of their causes.

Naturally all such gentlemen as these surrounded Mr. Ca-
hensly when he came to this country, and together they sat in
judgment upon the American priests and bishops, and their atti-
tude towards the poor immigrants from Europe. Nor were the
bishops of pure American stock, or of Irish extraction, the exclu-
sive object of blame. Those faithful German priests who knew
the real state and wants of the country, who had adapted them-
selves to their surroundings and who had toiled among all
classes, but would not join the pessimists, were blamed without
stint. Mr. Cahensly and his friends acted as if these priests
were renegades to Fatherland, because they had doubled their
power and influence by learning and using the language of the
country in which they lived, without forgetting the language of
the country in which they were born. These priests were de-
nounced because they had committed the crime of becoming
"Americanized."

The church in the United States, if Mr. Cahensly should pre-
vail in his mission, was to be revolutionized. Instead of being
what it is now, a unit, it was to be divided and subdivided into
sections and factions of foreign colonies representing the differ-
ent nationalities of the immigrants to suit the racial or political
aims of the Cahensly statesmen. I say statesmen, for he does
not sign his document alone. Attached to it are the signatures
of thirty-four others representing the German, the Austrian, the
Belgian, the Swiss, and the Italian St. Raphael Societies. But
strange to say, not one of these thirty-four signers had ever

1892.] MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. 569

put his foot on our soil. Not one of them has any personal
knowledge of what he signs. All take their facts on the au-
thority of Mr. Cahensly, who in turn has gleaned his information
from unreliable newspaper talk, from the windows of an express
train, or from the melancholy croaking of a few Clerical Ravens,
whom he met in his travels.

A short examination will show how false are the statements
upon which is based this attempt to perpetuate foreign nation-
alities in the United States, and thus Austrianize the church in
America. Mr. Cahensly starts out with the assertion in his
letter of April, 1891, that the Catholic Church in the United
States has lost sixteen millions since the formation of our Re-
public. In his letter to Leo XIII. of the preceding February
the learned statistician is not so sure of the number lost, for he
says it is only something over ten millions. A jump from an
indefinite " something over ten millions " to a definite sixteen
millions in less than two months speaks well for the fertility of
his resources. But what proof does he give for this assertion ?

" Calculation made on the most authentic statistics " is his
answer. But what are these " authentic statistics," and where
are their sources ?

In a speech at the Catholic Congress of Liege, in 1887, Mr.
Cahensly mentions one of these " authentic " sources, a Re-
demptorist father, who told him that out of the 600,000 Catho-
lics then in New York only 150,000 made their Easter duty.
The following letter, written by one of the most learned, elo-
quent, and experienced of the Redemptorist missionaries, who
knows this country and who is known in it from Maine to
Texas, shows the utter unreliability of this particular statement
of Mr. Cahensly:

" ST. ALPHONSUS' RECTORY, 234 SOUTH FIFTH AVENUE,

"NEW YORK, November 23, 1891.

" REV. DEAR DR. BRANN : Yours of the i9th inst. was duly
received. As to Dr. Cahensly's assertion, made in his speech at
Liege, it is both absurd and untrue. He probably thought it
would add force to his words if he cited a Redemptorist as his
authority. The Redemptorist is probably only a myth, but in
Belgium the authority of a Redemptorist bears great weight.
But even if a Redemptorist had made such a statement, for
pessimists may be found in all religious bodies of men, I would
characterize it as absurd and untrue.

" In our own Church of St. Alphonsus, N. Y., we have annu-

570 MR. CAHENSLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. [Jan.,

ally about 70,000 confessions (we keep an account of this part
of our ministry). Now, as there are in the City of New York
over seventy-nine other parish churches, many of which are
served by religious priests who are constantly hearing confessions,
and the parishes served by the secular clergy are also well sup-
plied with confessors, who are always kept busy hearing con-
fessions, the number of confessions heard annually in the city of
New York must amount to many hundred thousands. To make
a statement such as Cahensly made at Liege about the Catho-
lics of New York, is to speak at random and for effect ; for
how can a layman claim to have sufficient information on such
a subject unless he examines the records of the diocese of
which he makes it ? To say a Redemptorist gave him the infor-
mation will not excuse him. A sweeping assertion like Cahens-
ly's, made in public, has to be sustained by trustworthy records
or statistics, and not by the superficial and exaggerated state-
ments of an over-zealous and irresponsible person. But I am of
opinion that Mr. Cahensly may have heard some remarks made
by German priests generally about the indifference of many
Germans in our country ; and forgetting that these same people,
after years of religious indifference in Germany, are not willing
to practise in our free country what they neglected at home, he
jumped to the conclusion that all the indifference in religious
matters among our foreign population is due to the fact that in
our country we do not feel inclined to worship foreign nation-
alities. Yours sincerely,

"F. W. WAYRICH, C.SS.R."

This clear statement of the Rev. Father Wayrich shows that
Mr. Cahensly, as a historian, rivals in veracity his illustrious coun-
tryman the Baron Munchausen.

Another " authentic " source quoted by Mr. Cahensly is the
Very Rev. Bonaventure Frey, an ex-provincial of the Capuchin
Fathers, lately rector of the Capuchin church in West Thirty-
first Street, and now rector of the Capuchin church at Yonkers.
This good father is quoted as saying that 20,000 Italians yearly
become Protestants in the City of New York.

But here is the venerable Capuchin's reply to Mr. Cahensly's

assertion :

"NEW YORK, November 23, 1891.

" DEAR DOCTOR BRANN : I only received your letter last
Saturday. I must deplore very much that Cahensly uses my
name in connection with the Italian affair, of which nation, as

1892.] MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. 5/1

now represented in New York City, I do not know more than
about the Chinese. Allow me, therefore, to protest against his
quotations. Yours faithfully,

"P. BONAVENTURE FREY, O.M.C."

So much, then, for Mr. Cahensly's reliability. Has he any
more witnesses ? Not one.

However, we Americans are willing frankly to admit that we
have had some losses, though they are exceedingly small compared
to those in other countries, and are not at all due to the causes
alleged by the Cahensly party. Our own Catholic writers are
the best authorities as to the number lost and the causes of the
loss. Now, what do these writers establish ?

One of them in the Tablet, a Catholic journal of Baltimore
(October, 1891), noticing Mr. Cahensly's exaggerations, admits a
loss of three millions and three-quarters, mainly in " isolated
Catholic families not reached by priests, in the neglected waifs
of our large cities, and in those whom the State and Protestant
institutions have so steadily and obstinately labored to draw
from the influence of the Catholic Church." There is a great
difference between the loss here stated and that of sixteen mil-
lions ; between the causes assigned by the American writer, who
knows his subject, and the causes assigned by a prejudiced and
misinformed foreigner. " One cause of our losses," says the
American writer, " is the identification of Catholicity with some
foreign nationality." Mr. Cahensly should meditate qn this
observation. If his plan to make the church in the United
States a collection of foreign colonies could be realized, we
should indeed in the next century lose the sixteen millions
which he falsely asserts that we have already lost. If our
church is to be turned into a conglomeration of discordant* and
anti-American communities, to be made a wasp's nest of Poles,
Bohemians, Germans, Italians, and Irish, each having its separate
bishops and priests, and privileges; each nationality and race
preserving for ever its own language and prejudices ; each faction
to be manipulated by the statesmen of Europe for their particu-
lar ends, then, humanly speaking, few Americans would become
Catholics. Besides, in such an event our government, instead of
treating the Catholic Church as at present, with consideration
and friendliness, might be tempted to imitate the example of the
so-called Catholic governments of Europe, or of that German
government whose interests are so near to Mr. Cahensly's heart.

Physical as well as moral causes explain whatever losses we

572 MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. [Jan.,

have suffered. Bishop Hughes so long ago as 1856 felt called
on to answer charges similar to those of the Prussian delegate,
and to show that the laws of ordinary statistics do not hold
good in the case of Catholic immigrants from Ireland, Germany,
and Italy. A large discount for great physical losses must be
made before attempting to compute the losses due to moral
causes. Epidemics of cholera have more than once decimated
the foreign immigrants since they began to pour in on our shores,
and domicile in crowded and unhealthful districts of our cities
has largely increased our death-rate. " According to the laws,"
he wrote, " recognized in statistics, the common laws of mortality,
immigrants to this country are dying at the rate of one in three,
and this is because they are exposed to the accidents of life
to sickness, hardship of every kind, and toilsome poverty. They
are especially exposed to epidemics, . . . and therefore
the common allowance of mortality is not sufficient to express
the proportion of the deaths in their case." * The distinguished
Catholic historian, John Gilmary Shea, in a series of articles re-
cently published in the Catholic News\ also shows in detail the
absurdity and impossibility of Cahensly's statistics. Here are
the statistics of loss published in the Catholic News of November
22, by our best Catholic expert on this subject :

In 1850 the foreign-born population was 2,240,535

Between 1850 and 1860 there arrived immigrants .... 2,598,214

4,838,749
Census return of foreign-born in 1860 4,138,697

Loss 700,052

In 1860 foreign-born 4,138,697

Immigration 1860-70 2,491,451

6,630,148
Census return of foreign-born in 1870 5,566,546

Loss 1,063,602

In 1 870 foreign-born 5,566,546

Immigration 1871-80 2,812,176

8,378,720
Census return of foreign-born in 1880 6,679,943

Loss 1,698,777

Therefore between 1850 and 1860, 700,052 ; between 1860 and 1870, 1,063,602;
between 1870 and 1880, 1,698,777 immigrants who arrived in the decade either
died or left the country. Total number, 3,462,431.

* Works of Archbishop Hughes, vol. ii. p. 128.

t September, October, and November numbers, 1891.

1892.] MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. 573

These figures are taken from the official United States Cen-
sus Reports. They not only show the absurdity of Mr. Cahens-
ly's statement, that we have lost sixteen millions, but they
show the equal absurdity of one of his disciples, the Abbe
Villeneuve, who, in the Catholic Congress at Liege in Septem-
ber, 1890, made the following extraordinary statement: "It has
been calculated that eighteen millions of Irish, sixteen millions
of Germans, and fifteen millions of French, Belgians, Italians,
and Hungarians have emigrated to the United States. Out of
eighteen millions from Ireland or children of Irish parents, there
are sixteen millions of Catholics. Out of sixteen millions of
Germans or children of Germans, there are three millions of
Catholics. Out of the emigrants from other nations there are
five millions of Catholics. The statistics of the Propaganda give
to the United States a Catholic population of five millions and
some hundreds of thousands, when it should be twenty-five mil-
lions. What, then, has become of the other twenty millions ?
They have turned Protestant or have become indifferent." Thus
out of a foreign-born population of 6,679,943 in 1880, only
half of which was Catholic ; and out of a total Catholic popu-
lation in 1890 of 7,067,000, an increase of twenty millions in ten
years is expected and demanded by the exacting Abbe Villeneuve !

But the total immigration to the United States from 1783 to
1891 was 15,185,258, according to the official statement made on
January 15, 1891, by our government. Now, suppose all these
immigrants to be still alive, and all to be Catholics, how could
you get eighteen millions of Irish and sixteen millions of Ger-
mans out of them ? The abbe also forgets that it is only in
recent years that Hungarians, Poles, and Italians began to come
to this country in large numbers ; and the Irish and German
emigration only became large after 1848. No one but a person
with the fancy of a Gascon could, upon such data as we have
quoted, make a Catholic loss of four millions more than the
whole number of emigrants to the country.

As a matter of fact the Catholic loss in the United States is
not as great as the writer in the Baltimore Tablet asserts. In
many localities there is no loss, but much gain from conver-
sions. And now gains are common because priests, especially
American priests, are numerous enough to supply all the wants
even of the immigrants who come to our hospitable shores.

But we can partially understand how Mr. Cahensly gets his
sixteen millions of loss by examining the statistics of Catholic
immigration for 1889, which he appends to his letter of last
VOL. LIV. 37

574 MR. CAHENSLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. [Jan.,

April to Cardinal Rampolla, the Pontifical Secretary of State.
According to him, all are Catholics who come from so-called
Catholic countries. Thus, he says that in 1889 35,500 came from
Germany, and 27,000 from Austria-Hungary, making a total of
62,500 for one year. And if these good Catholics do not go to
church or to the sacraments, the fault, according to Mr. Cahens-
ly, lies at the door of American priests and American bishops.
Now, what are the facts? At least one-half of these immi-
grants when they left home had little or no religion. Thousands
of them have never received any sacrament but baptism. There
are over a dozen German Catholic churches, and there are prob-
ably two score of German secular priests, or who speak German,
in New York City alone, not to mention the German priests who
belong to the religious orders. They are more than adequate
to all the wants of their countrymen in this city. The proportion
of German priests to the German Catholic population in many
parts of the country is greater than it is here. Not one of these
priests but could tell Mr. Cahensly that every opportunity for
the reception of the sacraments is given to these immigrants.
Our American German priests are as zealous as any in the
world. They are not to blame if half-infidels from Baden, or
from Munich, or from Vienna, or from Buda-Pesth do not go to
church in the United States. If these immigrants did not go to
the sacraments in their own country, the reason is to be looked
for there, not here.

But besides Mr. Cahensly, who signs for the Germans and
Austrians, there is the Marchese Volpi Landi, " President of the
work of St. Raphael for the protection of Italian emigrants,"
who signs for the Italians, and formally endorses Mr. Cahensly's
statements. In 1889, according to these gentlemen, 25,000 Italian
Catholics came to the United States. Now, low as is the spirit-
ual condition of many of the immigrants from the Austrian
Empire, and from parts of Germany, the Italians, we regret
to say, are worse. They are the scandal of the church in the
nineteenth century.

The Marchese Volpi Landi must know that there is very
little faith or zeal in some parts of Italy ; else, why should a
population of over thirty millions of so-called Catholics stand pa-
tiently under the laws which oppress religion, and make a victim
of their illustrious countryman, the Head of the church ? If thou-
sands of Italians come here annually devoid of religious training,
many of them having a greater familiarity with the assassin's
knife than with the catechism, is that the fault of the American

1892.] MR. CAHENSLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. 575

bishops or of the American priests? It is absurd and malicious
to hold American priests and bishops responsible for losing peo-
ple who were lost before they came here.

To explain this imaginary loss of sixteen millions, Mr. Cahens-
ly and the Marchese Landi allege six causes. Let us briefly
examine them. The first is " the want of sufficient protection
for the emigrants at the time of their departure, during the voy-
age, and when they arrive in America." But surely Mr. Cahens-
ly does not blame the American bishops for not .sending priests
to Europe to protect the emigrants before they start, and to
accompany them across the sea? That is the business of people
on the other side. Has he ever known the case of an American
bishop refusing the services of a good priest, duly authorized by
his bishop in Europe, to look after the interest of emigrants and
to accompany them on their voyage ? If there has been any
negligence in this respect why does not Mr. Cahensly scold the
priests of Europe for failure to do their duty, instead of empty-
ing the vials of his wrath on the Americans ?

The second alleged cause is " the insufficiency of priests and
of parishes specially set apart for the different nationalities of
the emigrants." This cause exists only in Mr. Cahensly's brain.
All our great cities, like New York, have churches representing
the different nationalities ; and in the larger English-speaking
churches there are generally one or two priests who speak
Italian, French, or German. Many of our large English congre-
gations are governed by Italian or by German clergymen. Even
when the Italian, French, or German immigrants were fewer
than they are now, their priests were recognized on a footing of
entire equality, and were often appointed pastors of large English
parishes over the heads of native Americans or of Irish. In
some of our dioceses twenty-five years ago there was hardly a
large English-speaking parish but was governed by a German, or
by an Italian, or by a Frenchman.

The third cause is " the pecuniary sacrifices, often excessive,
exacted from the faithful." It is not true that money is exacted
from the faithful. A priest who would dare to exact money
from any parishioner for any purpose would violate the laws of
all our ecclesiastical councils and synods, and be. severely pun-
ished by his bishop. If something is charged for seats in church,
it is only what is done in the churches of Europe, even in Paris
and in Brussels. No one is compelled to pay to hear Mass or
receive the sacraments in any part of the United States. But
we are living in a country in which the church is separated from

5/6 MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. [Jan.,

the state. Our clergy, our church, our charitable institutions are
supported by the voluntary contributions of the faithful. The
state gives us nothing. We have to build everything. We
have done in a few years what Europe has failed to do in a
thousand years. We have built churches and schools, orphan
asylums and reformatories, for European immigrants, who are
generally very poor. Some of them came to us from countries
in which kings and princes built churches centuries ago ; from
countries in which the people are not accustomed to give di-
rectly, because the state subsidizes religion and pays the salaries
of the clergy. But here the people pay, and those who pay the
most make the fewest complaints. Our American Catholics give
most generously, and the proof is in our fine churches, flourish-
ing parochial schools, and charitable institutions, an equal pro-
vision of which is hardly to be found in any part of Europe.
In this last particular, perhaps, there is no city in the world that
can compare with New York. The orphan asylums, foundling
asylum, and Catholic Protectory of this diocese are second to
none in the world. Our Catholics of Irish or German origin are
generous. The Irish are celebrated for their faith and generosity.
There is hardly a German parish in the country which has not
a parochial school. The Poles and Bohemians also have shown
great generosity in many places.

But the countrymen of the Marchese Volpi Landi are at the
very bottom of the ladder in the matter of supporting religion.
We have yet to learn of a single Italian church in the country
built by Italians alone. The Irish and Americans build churches
for them, and for the most part support their clergy. The
average immigrant from Italy, especially from Naples and Sicily,
acts as if he had no religious belief. He neglects the sacra-
ments, has no respect for priest, bishop, or pope, and is igno-
rant and stingy. Some one is to blame for this condition of
Italian immigrants, but it is not the American bishops, who prac-
tically tax the generosity of the faithful of other nationalities
for the benefit of the countrymen of the Marchese Landi. Out of
two hundred Italians in a certain parish, the rector of which visited
them frequently and spoke their tongue, only three could be induced
to go to Mass, and then only on the grand festivals. Yet, badly off
religiously as are the Italians, few of them become Protestants.
Let it also be said that many of these Italians, by contact with
American Catholics, learn to do better, practise their religion and
become comparatively generous. The -rest remain in the condi-
tion in which so many of them are found in their native land. Our

1892.] MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. S77

bishops, most of whom know the tongue of Tasso and of Dante,
give to them special assistance and special care.

The fourth reason of Mr. Cahensly and his party is " the
public schools." Certainly we do not admire the public schools.
Their influence is unreligious. Our priests and our bishops are
consequently everywhere erecting parochial schools. Nearly all
our large parishes have them, and soon all will have them. But
although the public schools are full of danger, this danger is not
so great as it is in Europe from the same cause. Our public
schools did not originate in hatred of Christianity, as did those
in Europe ; and their secularization in many cases is simply an
attempt to keep at peace with Catholics. We have now organ-
ized a system of parochial schools, supported by the voluntary
contributions of the faithful, superior to any similar system that
exists in France, Italy, or Germany. Catholic Belgium alone
can rival, but does not excel, us in this respect.

The fifth reason of Mr. Cahensly is "the insufficiency of
Catholic societies and associations of a mutual benevolent char-
acter for the working classes." But such societies abound among
us, and he could have easily learned this fact. There is the
Catholic Benevolent Legion, each of whose councils has a priest
for chaplain ; * there are the Catholic Knights of America, and
countless local and parochial organizations, which have been
founded especially to help laboring men in time of sickness or,
in case of their death, to aid their widows and orphans. Nearly
every German parish has a benevolent society attached to it.

The sixth reason for our loss of sixteen millions of Catholics,
according to Mr. Cahensly, is the lack of representatives of every
nationality in the episcopate. This reason is the milk in the
cocoa-nut of what has been termed a foreign plot to denation-
alize American Catholicity. Upon this point Mr. Cahensly insists
with suspicious earnestness. We cannot well understand, however,
what he means. Does he mean that wherever there is a foreign
colony it should be exempt from the jurisdiction of the Ordinary
and put under a special bishop ? If so, why not petition the
Holy See to put a German bishop over the two hundred thou-

* There are 366 councils of this Catholic organization in the United States and Canada.
Of these councils 178 are in the State of New York, of which 35 are in this city. There are
15,000 members of the society in the State of New York. The Legion has paid to Catholic
widows and orphans, since 1881, over $2,700,000. The total amount paid by all American
Catholic beneficial societies must be many times more than that. It is true that we have not
some of the societies which Catholics have organized in Europe ; but we do not need them
so much, and it is doubtful if what works well in Europe would work as well here. The
American Catholic has very strong individuality, always likes to depend on his own resources,
and never uses a crutch so long as he has a leg to stand on.

578 MR. CAHENSLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. [Jan.,

sand German-speaking Catholics, or a Belgian bishop over the
fifty thousand Flemings, in Paris, and exempt them from the
jurisdiction of its archbishop ? Would the Archbishop of Paris
consent, would the French people or the French government
consent to any such manoeuvre as this ? Or, considering the
thousands of Frenchmen living in Berlin, and in the large cities
of the Rhineland, why not petition the Holy See to make the
eloquent Abb6 Villeneuve, who is so strong in statistics, a French
bishop in Cologne or Mayence, and give him exclusive jurisdic-
tion over his countrymen in Germany ? Judging by the way in
which he has found eighteen millions of Irish in the United
States, he would soon find enough Frenchmen to justify the ap-
pointment of several French bishops in the German fatherland.
How would the German bishops like this ? How would Kaiser
Wilhelm like it ? Does Mr. Cahensly mean to import Italian
bishops into Buenos Ayres and Brazil, to take charge of the
numerous Italian immigrants in those countries ; and does he
think that the South American bishops or the South American
governments would make no protest against this interference
with local law and local jurisdiction ? Has Mr. Cahensly ever
forecast the practical working of these divided jurisdictions which
he would establish in the United States, or the scandalous
schisms to which they might give rise ? Might there not arise
among us, as in the East Indies, some Joseph Sylva y Torres,
who on account of these divided allegiances would make a worse
schism than ever existed in Goa ? Does Mr. Cahensly mean that
in San Francisco, for instance, the jurisdiction of the archbishop
shall be restricted, and a special bishop sent from the Flowery
Kingdom to look after the interests of the very large Chinese
colony in California? Or that in Milwaukee, along-side of Arch-
bishop Katzer, who is a German, an Irish bishop shall be im-
ported from Cork to have exclusive jurisdiction over the thousands
of Irish in Wisconsin? Or that in New York our archbishop,
who is an American, shall have his jurisdiction restricted to those
who are natives of the soil, by a German bishop for the Ger-
mans, by an Italian for the Italians, a Pole for the Poles, a
Frenchman for the French ?

And when these imperia in imperio are established must the
principle of nationality descend from the episcopate to the priest-
hood, from the dioceses to the parishes ? Must all the Italian,
German, and French priests who now govern English-speaking
parishes resign? Must no German, French, or Italian priest give
the sacraments except to his own countrymen ? Must preaching
in English be forbidden in German, French, or Italian churches?

1892.] MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. S79

Must every priest have his jurisdiction restricted to the nation-
ality of his bishop ? How would this plan work ? Would the
foreign clergy among us be satisfied with it ? How would the
rectors of Italian churches, for instance, like it if they were
obliged, on the arrival of their own national bishop, to depend
for their support on their own countrymen, to be suddenly de-
prived of the help which is generously given to them now by
American Catholics ?

Or does Mr. Cahensly mean that the foreign element is not
sufficiently represented in the actual American hierarchy? If so,
he is mistaken. Let him look at the names of our bishops.
Courtesy, prudence, and the interest of the church suggest that,
if possible, the bishops of a nation should be identified with it
either by birth or by naturalization. They should know the
people, the language, the institutions, and the laws of the coun-
try in which they govern. They will thus have more influence
over their flocks and with the civil government, with which the
church always desires to hold amicable relations. Besides, our
civil laws in some States render aliens incapable of owning real
estate. No foreigner can own real property in New York State
unless he becomes an American citizen. How then could these
imported or foreign bishops acquire title to ecclesiastical property?
Would it not be well for the Cahensly party to study the laws
of our country before trying a dangerous and ruinous experi-
ment ? Nothing is so distasteful to the people of any nation as
a foreign colony claiming privileges and exemptions from the or-
dinary laws and customs of the land.

National prejudices are strong, and they are as strong in
America as elsewhere. The people of the United States do not
like a foreign church. There is a fundamental principle of our
policy, known as the " Monroe doctrine," that no foreign power
shall be allowed to interfere in American affairs. As the Balti-
more writer already quoted justly said, the chief moral cause of
our losses "has been the identification of Catholicity with some
foreign nationality." In the beginning of the church in our Re-
public we had to depend on foreign priests and foreign bishops.
The " Know-nothing " or Native-American movement against the
church in our Republic, in 1844 and in 1854, was a consequence
of the fact that nearly all Catholics and priests in the United
States were foreigners or their immediate descendants. Even at
this day the most odious charge against us is that we are for-
eigners in spirit as well as in blood. Protestant and infidel
newspapers, preachers, and politicians are continually charging
Catholics with disloyalty and hostility to American institutions,

580 MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. S. [Jan. y

and this charge is believed by many native-born Americans.
Now, while American Catholics are endeavoring to disprove these
charges, and to show that the American Republic and its institu-
tions have nothing to fear but much to gain from the Catholic reli-
gion and its adherents, there come to the front Herr Cahensly, the
Marchese Volpi Landi, the Abbe" Villeneuve and the others,
distinctly demanding that our episcopate shall be denationalized
and foreignized. It is a glorious episcopate, ever true to Holy
Church and to the Holy See. Every race that helped to form
the church here has been or is represented in it : Katzer, Wigger,
Richter, Heiss, Fink, Flasch, Luers, Toebbe, Baltes, Krautbauer,
Seidenbush, and others of German birth or of German ancestry,
stand for Catholic Germany ; Chapelle, Chatard, Machpbeuf, Du-
bois, Flaget, Brute, Cheverus, Marchal, David, Portier, Blanc,
Loras, Odin, Bazin, Cretin, Rappe, St. Palais, Perche, Leray,
Martin, Laney, De Goesbriand, and others, French or of French
descent, stand for Catholic France ; Baraga, Neumann, and Mel-
cher, for Austria ; Henni, Zardetti, and Marty, for Switzerland ;
Domenec, Allemany, Amat, Verdaguer, and Mora, for Spain ;
Janssens for Holland ; Van de Vyver, Seghers, and Maes, for
Catholic Belgium ; Rosati for Italy ; Gilmour for Scotland ;
Whitfield for England ; Connolly, Egan, England, Kelly, Hughes,
Loughlin, Ryan, Kenrick, Purcell, Whelan, O'Gorman, O'Connor,
and O'Farrell, for faithful Ireland ; and Carroll, Neale, Fenwick,
Eccleston, Bayley, Spalding, Tyler, McCloskey, Rosecrans, Wood,
McQuaid, and Shanahan, for native or converted America. Even
Canada gave us Blanchet. All nationalities have been and are
still represented in our episcopate, whose mitres never bore the
stamp of Bourbon or Bonaparte Gallicanism, of Austrian Joseph-
ism, or of Neapolitan Giannoneism. Of what, then, does Mr.
Cahensly complain? Does he envy us our native freedom of
episcopal elections ? or does he want some infidel and foreign
prime minister to use pressure on our free clerical voters or on
the Holy See, which finds in the United States fewer intrigues
to impede its choice, and less objection to it, than in any other
country in the world ? Is he jealous because San Francisco in
the far West, New York in the East and Baltimore, are governed
by Americans? Does any one believe that an imported bishop
from Baden or Palermo would be better than they ? Or does
Mr. Cahensly want all the sees for the foreigners ? Then which
nationality will get them ? The German immigration is very
great now ; but the Hungarian, the Polish, and the Italian are
increasing. If we give all the mitres to the* Germans now, will

1892.] MR. C A HEN SLY AND THE CHURCH IN THE U. 5. 581

they have to resign their claim when the Poles become more
numerous ; and they in their turn make way for the Italians, to
be succeeded by the Chinese, when all restrictions are taken
away from our immigration laws ? And the American govern-
ment and American Catholics are expected to bear all this, al-
though no other government or people in the world wold do
so ! The American Republic is expected to abolish the " Monroe
doctrine " to please the foreigners Cahensly, Landi, and Ville-
neuve !

No ! Leo XIII. loves the church of the United States too
well, and is too well informed of its condition by our own faith-
ful bishops, to permit himself to be deceived by foreign intriguers.
We want qp foreign bishops here, with the stamp of Kaiser Wil-
helm or of Franz Joseph or of the Carbonaro Crispi on their
mitres. We take European immigrants and we improve their
condition, physically, mentally, and morally. Heaven knows many
of them are poor specimens of European civilization and of
European Christianity ! We put into them ideas of American
manliness, generosity, self-reliance, and independence. We trans-
form them from hot-house plants, whose faith is unable to stand
the open air, into hardy plants that defy the wind and the
frost. Some of them we have lost, but the reasons why exone-
rate the church of the United States from blame. There is no
such excuse for the enormous losses in the old Catholic coun-
tries from which these immigrants come. Many of them are an
injury instead of a benefit to our American Catholics.

We say to fault-finders from Austria, purify the corrupt capi-
tal of your half-infidel empire ; you French Gascons, look to the
beams in your own eyes ; you Macchiavellian intriguers at Rome,
go preach the Gospel to the Camorra of Naples and to the Mafia
of Sicily. We say to the Marchese Landi that until he and his
countrymen free Leo XIII. from the chains which they have per-
mitted to be fastened around the feet of his authority, they
are in no position to criticise the Catholicity of other nations.

We are willing to stand comparison with the Catholicity of
the Continent of Europe. Nay, as we have sent over our hardy
vines to replace those destroyed by the phylloxera, so it may
happen that the " Americanized " children of our European
Catholic immigrants, clergy and laity, may yet have a similar
mission in restoring health to the decadent religious vineyards of
some parts of Europe.

HENRY A. BRANN, D.D.

St. Agnes^ Rectory, New York.

582 THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. [Jan.,

THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT.

I. EXPERIMENTAL PLANS IN OPERATION.

A DISTINCT advance has been made all along the lines of the
discussion of the theory and the experimental reduction to prac-
tice of the school adjustment. Judging the temper of our whole
people from the plain indications of the public pulse, it can be
regarded as a foregone conclusion that the party of concentra-
tion shall have their trouble for their pains in trying to foist
upon us a national system of education. The States will retain
their local control, and devise and maintain their own system,
without delegation of powers to the federal government tolerat-
ing only the national Bureau of Education at Washington for
purposes of census and general educational information. Next,
each State leaves, practically, a large margin of liberty of action
to its local school boards and county commissioners. This is
making easy the fair interpretations of the school law, resulting
in compromises between public and private or church schools.

When a few dozens of square and honest working examples
have been displayed to the timorous, to show how, by conceding
little points, great advantages may be gained for the peace and
harmony of communities, scores of imitators will be found in-
deed, they are being found in all parts of the country. The
good leaven is working. The instances of the favorable deci-
sion of the trustees of New York University in admitting the
schools of a parish in Troy and another in Cohoes ; the impar-
tial interpretation of the school law by the superintendent in
Texas, regarding religious women as candidates for teachers in
public schools ; the local adjustments at Faribault and Stillwater,
Minn., seemingly imitating the eighteen-year-old experiment at
Poughkeepsie, N. Y. ; and this followed by the conciliatory pub-
lic utterance of the chief educational authority of the State of
Minnesota; the cases of Binghamton and Ogdensburg, N. Y.,
besides many less prominent examples which could be culled
from the running chronicles of town and country all go to
prove that the solvent of amicable agreement is slowly eating
away the walls of separation. The specific and authoritative
account of the land-stirring incident at Faribault is as follows :

" An arrangement has recently been entered into between the

1892.] THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. 583

parochial school of the Immaculate Conception and the public-
school board of Faribault, which, we are told, ' is satisfactory to
every one concerned in it.' The building is leased to the board
for one dollar per year. The Catholic children in attendance
last year are there at present ; the board has abolished ward
divisions so that the children may attend from any part of
the city. The Dominican sisters are retained as teachers, after
passing the State examination ; the religious emblems in the
school-rooms still remain there ; * full provision is made by the
pastor for the religious instruction of the pupils ' ; yet the sys-
tem is 'thoroughly observant of the letter and spirit of the civil
law regarding schools ' . . ."

" Superintendent Kiehle deserves great credit for the clearness
in which he has brought out the purpose of the State in refer-
ence to the schools. He shows that it is not the business of
the State to teach religion. He says, however, that this must
not be taken as implying opposition or even indifference to re-
ligious teaching. His position is in entire conformity with the
ordinance of 1787, passed when the Northwest Territory was or-
ganized. That ordinance says : ' Religion, morality, and know-
ledge -being necessary to good government and the happiness of
mankind, schools and the means of education shall for ever be
encouraged."

At this day and hour of the sacred year of America's four
hundredth anniversary, we find that of the five or six distinct
plans of operation in dove-tailing the free public with the free
Catholic schools, higher, grammar or primary, in at least thirty-
two or thirty-three widely separated localities, in no one in-
stance has the State authority, or the incidental tenant of school
office, repudiated the agreement or refused fair terms compatible
with law. The exceptions noted in the article " American
Christian State Schools" (CATHOLIC WORLD, February, 1891),
of failures to continue arrangements, were occasioned by the
parochial representatives withdrawing their schools on their own
motion.

It can, therefore, be fairly asserted and roundly maintained
that the respective practically working plans, descending in scale
from those based on perfect liberty of curriculum, in the New
York University affiliations, to the as perfectly dependent com-
promises as regards secular teaching alone in the New York
State provincial cities and the beautiful prairie towns of Minne-
sota, are bond fide school concordats, agreeable to civil and re-
ligious holders of authority. Our communities are scattered over
such wide expanses, so often radically diverse in their modes of
thought and action ; some in our keen, business-like marts of
provincial trade ; other some the denizens of open-hearted towns

584 THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. [Jan.,

in the valley of the Mohawk, or the perfection of that Horatian
mingling of country and city, beautifying, as they are adorned
by, the sweet prairies hugging the shores of the limpid upper
Mississippi ; or, again, nestling in the wooded banks of the lower
Ohio. But such as these have agreed to give the glorious coun-
try of our love and devotion the shining example of harmonious
action in all that heterogeneous fellow-citizens can do in com-
mon to show the unity of minds and hearts in training our
young in high truth and dear liberty.

Signs of the times and of the gradual formation of a truly
American national character are the participation of Catholics in
the philanthropic congresses and great temperance organizations
heretofore manned and womaned almost exclusively by non-
Catholics.

There is, unhappily, one little source of discord : the acts and
firebrand speeches and writings of the few but blatant anti-Catho-
lic cliques in our three largest cities, who are damming with
their open-secret societies the flow of level-headed and large-
hearted sympathy of a great people for the soul convictions of
more than Catholics. It boots little to be bitter with hide-bound
bigots. No doubt there are intellectual but narrowly educated
patriots who are conscientious in their opposition to Catholic
advance ; but let not the greatest Republic on earth be insulted
by attributing to her representatives the doings of such men as
Edwin Mead and John Jay, Joseph Cook and Elliott Shepherd.

The following words of Rev. J. F. McDonough, at the dedi-
cation of the first parish school in Taunton, Mass., are of value :

" Catholics do not wish to destroy the free public-school sys-
tem. They wish to improve it. They would make it more satis-
factory than it is. Why, in this commonwealth of Massachusetts
to-day the money yearly spent by Catholics for schools and
their maintenance reaches into hundreds of thousands of dollars ;
in numbers we are more than one-third of the population of the
State, and in the ratio of our numbers we pay to support the
present State school system. It is certain that we Catholics pay
more for education than any other citizens of the common
wealth ! Why shouldn't we be. anxious to have a free public-school
system that we can use, when it will save our pocket-books ? "

It is healthful for New-Englanders to hear these truths, close-
ly argued, and following hard upon the finely poised plea for our
common Christianity before the Areopagus of Harvard, by the
Rector of the Catholic University.

1892.] THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. 585

II. EDUCATION: TO WHOM DOES IT BELONG?

To approach the other division of our subject, Father Heck-
er's large heart and philosophical mind argued the divine church
had in modern days given over, after the definition of papal in-
fallibility, insisting so severely on the side of authority and al-
lowed more freedom to individual genius and endeavor enlivened
by the Holy Ghost. So now the foremost theologians and pre-
lates of our time have, in free and just governments, been will-
ing to acknowledge the state's right to co-operation in educa-
tion. The diligent student of episcopal and conciliar pronounce-
ments will find scarcely one prelate among 380 dignitaries who,
in writings and decrees on the school question, has officially
denied the state's right and duty to assist in educating. The
bishops of Belgium, under Cardinal Deschamps, who in the
seventies had such hard-fought pitched battles with the " Libe-
rals " under Frere Orban and his fellow-Masons, after citing the
authority of every provincial and plenary council in every na-
tion, including especially the United States since 1851, only
require of parents, "... when they relinquish a portion
of their duty to public or private schools, that religion be
taught there, under the direction of legitimate authority, but
also that all the instruction and all secular influences contri-
bute to transform their children into virtuous and docile sons,
subject to the authority of the church and of the state."
The Belgian hierarchy therefore demand, "... in the
name of conscience, in the name of the rights and duties
of baptized children and Catholic families, the continuance
of the law of 1842, which while giving the state a very large
share in the direction and superintendence of schools, at least
leaves the church, wherever it is honestly carried out, a de-
gree of freedom and authority sufficient to fulfil her sublime
mission. . . ."

When now we use the word state we mean, with Dr. Thomas
Bouquillon, of the Catholic University of America, 4< the social au-
thority . . . also in its lower degrees, such as the authority
in provinces, counties, towns, and districts." For, above all
things, we wish to stamp deep upon the inmost minds of all
readers of the signs of the times, that the solution of this prac-
tical question will and shall come, not from the general govern-
ment, nor for many a year even from the official action of the
States in severalty, but from the peaceable adjustments of com-
munities and neighborhoods.

586 THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. [Jan.,

The already famous university professor of moral theology
has done incalculable good to the cause of educational adjust-
ments, in all the countries affected by the burning question,
by the publication of his authoritative pamphlet, Education: to
whom does it belong f

It is peculiarly unbiased, and purports to be a clear exposition
from a Catholic stand-point of theoretical principles underlying
the school question, whose practical solution has become a na-
tional concern. The treatise is only an expansion of the author's
teaching in his Theologia Moralis Fundamentalis, as the reverend
editor of the Northwestern Chronicle intimates. This latter
gentleman, the Rev. John Conway, no mediocre theologian
of the school of Maynooth, probably the highest-graded seminary
in the English-speaking world, thus introduces the essay :

" Dr. Bouquillon's object is to show that the doctrine of
Catholic theologians on education is not opposed to liberty as
properly understood, nor to the just prerogatives of the state.
To establish this he proceeds with the care and the precision of
a scientist. He goes, into four aspects of the education ques-
tion, namely, the right to educate, the mission to educate, the
authority over education, the liberty of education. And he ex-
amines these four aspects from the stand-point of the individual,
the family, the state, and the church. He has not much diffi-
culty in showing the natural right ^of the individual to teach,
should that person know anything worth teaching." . . . "The
learned professor does not deem it necessary to dwell at length
upon the right of the family to educate. For it is universally
admitted that such a right belongs, by nature, to parents in
reference to their children. But what is not generally admitted
is that the right of the parent does not infringe upon the right
of the state as properly understood. Those who oppose the right
of the state to educate do so on the ground that parents have
such a right, and therefore the state has not. Such is the line
of thought followed by Mr. Montgomery, Judge Dunn, and men
of that class who have studied one educational source and know
nothing of the other three."

Without proposing to rifle all the precious contents of this
imposing treasure of facts and reasonings, the interest and vital
need of just such essays, to which all will listen and perhaps a
goodly number of elementary theologians learn something of
weight, demand at least the table of contents, with a few quota-
tions. The list of authorities is fourfold. They are all modern,
and for the obvious reason that the question is modern Tapa-
relli, Zigliara, Costa-Rosetti, Cavagnis, Coppola, Robiano, Ita-
lians ; Hammerstein, Riess, Germans ; Sauve" and his fellow-French

1892.] THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. 587

authors of L Ecole neutre ; and a Dutch and Irish representative,
as to principles. Besides the ordinary authorities on laws, the
collection of Maria Laach and of Monsignor Roskovany and the
pontifical theologians of the Vatican Council of many different
nationalities. As to fact and history, it is but waste of space to
say more than that the authors cited are all out of the common
round of histories a"s most amateur students know them. The
very first division of the right to educate, the right of every
competent individual to give forth what is in his mental posses-
sion, strikes at the root of the discussion by laying the founda-
tion for all the respective rights. The pregnant examples of the
spontaneous formation of the great schools of Padua and Ver-
ceil from the overflow of Bologna are the specific proof of what
Dr. Denifle affirms of many mediaeval universities. There is
something gravely humorous in the conciliar decree and Alex-
ander III. allowing every capable body to teach.

But, of course, the most salient points in the compact scien-
tific treatise are the right and mission and authority of the state
to educate.* The doctor insists upon proving the special and
proper right and the special duty of the state to provide educa-
tion in the letters, sciences, and arts. Civil powers have the
right and duty to protect their interests by requiring intelligent
agents for all the needs of the commonwealth. Ignorant people
are inferior ; if you would have them instructed, you must let the
" powers that be " see to their instruction. As to proofs by
documents, numerous instances of the foundation of schools,
such as four universities in Italy, five in Spain, before 1400, and
the modern citation of an educational system in the dominion
of the pope under Leo XII., 1824, to be carried out by the
communal magistrates, guarantee the author's conclusion that
" no pope ever declared the state went beyond its right in
founding schools, provided the instruction be organized in the
spirit of Christianity " (pp. 11-14; Cfr. Caterini and Analecta
Jur. Pont.) All the brilliant authors named, the " larger number
of theologians " (this is a blessed mark ! for many of us
thought we were claiming all we could in calling ourselves a
hopeful minority), the " best and most serious publicists," unite
with the Pope's own canon law professor, Monsignor Cavagnis, in
asserting : " No one has ever denied to the state the right of

* If one so humble might call the attention of a " master in Israel " to so fine a distinc-
tion, which, if anywhere, should be observed in a strictly logical and theological paper, we
would beg to insinuate that the headings should be modified so as to read, e.g., " Right of
the State to help educate," as education is properly the product of many distinct instructors.

588 THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. [Jan.,

establishing schools." The testimony of the Vatican Council
theologians must be respected :

" The right to educate in literature and the sciences for its
own legitimate end and for the common good is not denied to
the civil power, and therefore, also, the right to direct these
schools in as far as its legitimate end demands is not denied as
belonging to the same civil power " (Schema de Ecclesid).

The commentary upon this that, rightly ordered states have
actually intervened in instruction and aided education from the
time of at least the formation of the Prankish and Teutonic
kingdoms until the dawn of 1892 is, we should think, somewhat
superfluous. But the summing up of Rev. Joseph Rickaby, S.J.,
will be accepted as the key let down into the arch of testimony :

" It certainly is within the province of the state to prevent
any parent from launching upon the world a brood of young
barbarians, ready to disturb the peace of civil society" (Ethics
and Natural Law, p. 358).

There may be, after all, something in the American publicist's
prophecy that, if the church modify the state, the state here
will modify the views of the church at least in individuals. To
quote my words, which I cannot now improve upon, I conclude :
" A fairly good home and church training is naturally supposed
to accompany, interpenetrate, and direct the transformation of
the ignorant, plastic child into the gradually better and better
enlightened mind and personality, until the form of body and
soul is perfect as we can make it by the closing in of the mould
formed by these great factors of environment, home, church,
school. The sentiment of this community is Christian ; the air
of America does not contain the germs of moral and intellec-
tual consumption so prevalent and deadly in parts of Europe.
There has not been on our soil the wilful apostasy from the
main Christian truths, nor certainly the public and official dec-
larations or manifestations of denial and blasphemy one sees
and hears in France and Italy. All earnest Christians admit to
the full the reserved rights of God and parents ; but probably in
our zeal we have overlooked or minimised the rights and duties
of Christian society united under the name of secular govern-
ment. We say blankly : Confound the schemes of infidel or
religion-hating governments wherever they usurp authority to
trample down the units of society and assume the haughty role

1892.] THE AMENITIES OF THE SCHOOL ADJUSTMENT. 589

of domineering over both body and soul. But we Americans
have shaken off allegiance to all such, and we scorn to be
classed with the persecutors of faith and morality or the tyrants
over the body or rights of individuals. We want no kaisers or
autocrats : we govern ourselves, responsible to none but the liv-
ing God for ' reasonable service.' If we, individuals and Chris-
tians, have rights and duties regarding every one of our off-
spring at every period of their nonage, it must be logical to
conclude that we can delegate authority over schools to our re
presentatives in organized society in certain limits, as we dele-
gate authority to teachers and instructors in branches of learn-
ing. In every advance step of Christian civilization we know the
best representatives of secular authority have been welcomed by
the church in aiding all her plans and their realization to help
in changing the state of society for the better. Need we do
more than cite the examples of Constantine and Theodosius in
the East and Charlemagne and Alfred in the West ?

" We in America are the valid heirs of these labored cen-
turies of amelioration of man and his- social environments on
earth. Our laws and polity are in essentials the cream of the
best European codes adapted by our own God-given genius to
the conditions of our free republic."

Let us but baptize our schools, and all is well.

THOS. JEFFERSON JENKINS.

St. Lawrence, Ky.

VOL. LIV. 38

590 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Jan.

THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW.

THE impossibility of confining the mind and life of man
within the narrow bounds of materialism has lately received a
remarkable exemplification. All errors, of course, are pernicious,
and in many cases it is hard to say that any particular error is
more pernicious than another. But in our own times sheer
materialism is perhaps the most enthralling and captivating, a
materialism which denies, at all events ignores, any higher life
than the present. It is therefore right to feel some* satisfaction
at the news that converts are coming in by the hundred to the
Theosophical Society, and to hear a woman who has made her-
self notorious by her shameless advocacy of the most practical
developments of materialism publicly renounce her former be-
liefs and declare that humanity cannot tolerate the idea that
man was created for no final purpose; that the agnostics' un-
knowable is not unknown ; that the existence of an immortal,
imperishable, eternal, and uncreate principle can be demonstrated.
We will not stop to give an opinion as to the new errors Mrs.
Besant has adopted. We wish, however, to call our readers'
attention to the utterances of a man much more worthy of
attention, which go to show that the impatience at the restraint
of the materialistic bonds is widespread, and felt even in scien-
tific circles.

At the meeting of the British Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, held last autumn at Cardiff, Professor Lodge,
whose speculations on the nature of electricity have excited so
much attention, made an assault upon the restrictions placed by
our modern scientific leaders upon the sphere of research and
investigation. The ordinary processes of observation and experi-
ment, he maintained, are establishing the existence of a region
outside of, although adjacent to, that dealt with by physics.
Phenomena not at present contemplated by science are proved to
exist, to which the orthodox man (in the scientific sense) shuts
his eyes, papers about which not one of the recognized scienti-
fic societies would receive, which they treat in the same way
that their predecessors, the Ptolemaic astronomers, treated the
Copernican system on its first promulgation. This region in-
cludes such subjects as the relations of life to energy, the nature

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 591

of force, the means by which it influences the physical order,
how ideas are transmitted from mind to mind. The whole
address deserves careful study, and is noteworthy both as the
protest of a scientific man against the narrow spirit of so many
of his brethren, and as a testimony to the strength of the evi-
dence which is bringing home to unwilling minds facts which do
not square with preconceived theories.

No great conflicts between workmen and their employers have
taken place in Great Britain since our last notes were made ; on
the contrary, although there have been minor disputes, a contest
which would have involved many thousands in a long struggle
has happily been averted ; and as prevention is better than cure
it may be of interest to indicate the course of procedure which
led to this result. The dispute was between the engineers in the
Tyne district and their employers, among whom was the great
Armstrong Company. The question in dispute was whether or
not a workman could be required to work overtime. The dis-
pute began with the strike of the men employed by one of the
associated firms of employers, whereupon the rest of the em-
ployers proceeded to discharge their employees. Then the gen-
eral strike was ordered and even began. How was it averted ?
In the first place, the intervention of outsiders took place. The
Mayor of Newcastle undertook the part of mediator, as also did Mr.
Knight, a leading official of another branch of the trade. These
efforts, however, proved abortive. Then the employers and the
representatives of the workmen met together in conference with-
out any intervention, and by this means misunderstandings were
removed and the modified terms proposed by the masters were ac-
cepted by the men. This seems thoroughly in accordance with
the methods which have proved so successful in the mining in-
dustry in the same district, as has been made clear by the
evidence brought out by the Royal Commission. When masters
and men can be brought together to talk over the questions in
dispute, a means of reconciling differences is almost invariably

discovered.

One of the noteworthy points brought out before the Royal
Commission is the satisfaction felt by many employers at the
fact that their men were organized in unions. This satisfaction
is based on the greater facility such organization affords for
negotiation and the definite settlement of difficulties. This, how-

592 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Jan.,

ever, rests upon the existence and maintenance of cohesion and
of a certain subordination to their leaders upon the men's part.
The late disastrous strike of the riverside workers in London was
due to the refusal of the men to recognize the agreement made
by their leaders with the employers. In this case the leaders
fell into line with the men, and were led to disaster. A general
lockout of the London shoemakers has been averted by the men
being compelled by their leaders to keep the terms agreed upon
by them. A certain question had been referred to arbitration ;
but the men grew impatient at a long delay in the settlement
of the matter, and went on strike. The leaders, however, re-
quired their submission under penalty of being cut off from the
unions, and the men yielded. A somewhat similar mode of
action has led to the termination of the carpenters' strike in
London which has been going on for seven months. In the end
the question was by mutual consent referred to the president of
the Royal Institute of British Architects. This decision when
rendered was in the main in favor of the employers. Although
dissatisfaction was felt by the men they have, under the influence
of their leaders, loyally agreed to accept the decision.

It is satisfactory to be able to record the gradual advance of
the co-operative and the profit-sharing movements. The largest
pig-iron manufacturer in South Staffordshire has announced that
from the beginning of this year he will grant a substantial bonus
out of the profits to each workman. Certain manufacturers hav-
ing works in England and Ireland have given notice that they
will themselves take a smaller percentage of the profits and
appropriate the balance for the purpose of forming the nucleus
of a fund for division among their employees, such fund to in-
crease according to the increase of profits. In these schemes
the masters have taken the initiative, and retain the control. At
Leicester, however, the men have inaugurated the largest boot
and shoe factory in the world conducted on co-operative princi-
ples. The factory stands on six acres of land, and a capital of
a million dollars is required to work the concern. About fifteen
hundred people will be employed at the start, and the factory
will produce fifty thousand pairs of boots a week. Certain om-
nibus men of London propose also to work in co-operation.
Since the recent strike many have been discharged, and they
propose now to work for their own benefit. A company is to
be formed of which the members are to be principally the men
who work themselves, associated with known friends of labor.

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 593

How far success has attended this latter scheme we have not
heard. In fact, it is too soon for it to have been tested.

The agitation for the legal eight-hours day is being con-
tinued. Large bodies of workmen are strongly in favor of it,
but by no means all. Even the miners are not unanimous in
seeking such legislation for themselves. Leading politicians, too,
of both parties, anxious though they are to gain workmen's votes,
have felt unable to advocate the measure. Efforts made to get
it included in the Newcastle programme proved unsuccessful.
Mr. John Morley, Mr. Mundella, Mr. Shaw-Lefevre, and Sir Lyon
Playfair on the Liberal side, and Sir John Gorst on the Conserva-
tive, have pointed out the many difficulties which stand in the
way of its adoption. The chief of these is the keen competition
to which British trade is now exposed in all parts of the world,
and the fear that this trade will be so handicapped by such a
law that it will depart to other countries. This is so far recog-
nized by many advocates of the measure that they are willing to
postpone it until an international agreement is secured. But a
large number are resolute in pushing the matter on at all hazards.
The question is a very interesting one, as it is one of the first
results of the spread of education among the working classes and
of a desire for an increase of leisure for the further cultivation
of the instruction received in the elementary schools. It is also
to be borne in mind that there is an almost universal feeling
that an eight-hours day is desirable. The point in controversy
is whether it should be made obligatory by law, or left to be
secured by the action of the unions and private arrangement.

The scheme of Mr. Chamberlain, for pensions for old age, is
making steady progress. The details have been elaborated by a
committee and have been submitted to an actuary for the settle-
ment of the financial details. It is in these, of course, that the
crux of the whole matter lies. It is easy for benevolent persons
to form schemes for the alleviation of the wants of their poorer
brethren, but to devise practicable means for finding the money
is far more difficult. As Mr. Chamberlain said in a recent speech,
schemes arrived for his consideration every day offering to all
appearances the most } satisfactory solutions. As a specimen he
quoted one which looked particularly promising ; but on a calcu-
lation being made of its cost, it appeared that it would take a
thousand millions of dollars to set it going and two hundred

594 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Jan.,

millions per year for all subsequent time. Large numbers of the
poor-law authorities have declared themselves supporters of the
general principles of old-age pensions ; but it is being opposed by
the friendly societies, who fear that their own work will be super-
seded. To conciliate them and in opposition to his own judg-
ment, Mr. Chamberlain proposes that the measure shall be, not
compulsory but voluntary in its character. There is but little
doubt that it will be brought before the next session of Parlia-
ment ; and, although the government has given no pledges to
support it, it is in the highest degree improbable that that sup-
port will be withheld.

During the month of November a large number of School
Board elections took place, the most important of which was
that in London. In this contest there were three points at issue.
One set of candidates were friends of the voluntary and reli-
gious schools. These sought to become members of the School
Board in order, while loyally and honestly administering the
Education Acts, to prevent such an administration of them as
should bring the Board schools into unfair competition with the
religious schools. A second set were advocates of economy.
The education-rate, as estimated some twenty years ago by Mr.
Forster, has been quadrupled. Mr. Fbrster thought it could not
possibly exceed three pence in the pound. For the present year
'in many parishes it is one shilling in the pound, in the rest
eleven pence half-penny. So the advocates of economy had a
strong case. And, quite naturally, with them the friends of the
Voluntary schools made common cause ; for the larger the
amount of the money spent on the Board schools the less able
are the Voluntary schools to hold their own. The third set of
candidates were the out-and-out defenders and promoters of
the Board school system, opponents too of voluntary schools.
These they wish to supplant and destroy. Great apathy has
hitherto existed among London rate-payers as to these elections.
In many cases not more than a quarter have gone to the polls.
A feeling of despair seems to have taken possession of their
minds, the many promises made having been broken so often.
This year, however, greater interest has been manifested, and as
a consequence a victory has been won by the candidates who
are in favor of economy and of the voluntary schools. One
drawback to this victory is that the Catholic candidates have
fared badly. The last board had three Catholic members, the
present only one, and one of the defeated was Colonel Prendcr-

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 595

gast, who was looked upon by all parties as a most useful mem-
ber of the former board.

A few facts with reference to the educational work of the
London School Board, a board which controls the education
of a population which is almost as large as the whole pop-
ulation of Belgium, may not be without interest. There are
under its management 421 schools. In addition to these
board schools, there are about 250 voluntary schools, over which
the board has no authority. The board has to deal with about*
400,000 children, and of these 360,000 are in average attendance.
With all its systems and organizations, truant officers, truant schools,
and police courts, the board does not get more than eighty-
two per cent, of the children into the schools. The expenditure
of the board is 2,000,000 per annum ; half of this amount goes
in payment of the 7,000 teachers. Expenses of management and
wages of the thousand officials of the board cost 550,000. The
cost per child is 5 per year, one-half for maintenance, one-half
for education. The obligatory subjects of education are reading,
writing, and arithmetic, and for girls needlework. English, geog-
raphy, and elementary science form what are called class sub-
jects. The specific subjects, which can only be taught to ad-
vanced pupils, and in more than two of which no child can be
examined, are algebra, Euclid and mensuration, mechanics, chem-
istry, physics (sound, light and heat, magnetism and electric-
ity), animal physiology, botany, principles of agriculture, Latin,
French, German, domestic economy (for girls), book-keeping and
short-hand. Instruction in cookery is given to those girls who
have passed a certain standard, the food cooked is sold, and
during the past year the receipts exceeded the cost of materials.
Laundry work is also a recognized branch of instruction for girls.
Drawing is a compulsory subject of instruction in all senior de-
partments. Provision is made for instruction in physical exer-
cises, and the playgrounds of nearly all the schools are pro-
vided with simple gymnastic apparatus. One of the last acts of
the late board was to sanction the provision of four central
swimming-baths, and to secure for the children instruction in
and admission to existing swimming-baths. In a few chosen
schools manual training in paper-work, cardboard-work, color-
work, and clay-work is given, and girls' classes in housewifery
have been inaugurated. The elements of technical instruction have
thus been brought into the elementary education of the children.
Moreover there are sixteen centres for the special instruction of

596 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Jan.,

the deaf and dumb, and twenty-six for blind children, and
special schools are to be provided for physically and mentally
defective children. Special schools exist also for truant children.
In view of these facts it can scarcely be said that the chil-
dren of the London working-class are likely to grow up in igno-

rance.

- *, -

The next session of Parliament, besides the Irish Local Gov-
ernment Bill to which the government are pledged, will have
, under consideration the question of Irish elementary education.
The Free Education Act of last session did not embrace Ireland
within its scope. The money, however, was voted, and conse-
quently it is incumbent upon Parliament to pass the measure
to which the money was devoted. This will also raise the ques-
tion of compulsory education for Ireland, for hitherto compul-
sion has been restricted to Great Britain. Nor is it elemen-
tary education alone that will be under discussion. There is
reason to hope that the long-standing injustice under which
Catholics have been subjected as regards university education
may be removed. Archbishop Walsh has recently declared that
this question has come to occupy a position of advantage which
he ventured to declare was without parallel in all its previous
history. This is due to the recognition accorded to the rights
of Catholics at a recent meeting of the Historical Society in
Trinity College, Dublin especially to the address of the auditor
of that society, and to the speeches of such representatives of
Irish Protestant educated opinion as Lord Justice Fitzgibbon
and Judge Webb. The archbishop did not hesitate to say that
an advantage of a most important character had been secured,
and the result was that the Catholic line of advance had been
carried over regions of debatable territory. It will be remem-
bered that about two years ago Mr. Balfour uttered some ex-
pressions in the House of Commons which seemed to pledge the
government to action upon this question. The opposition of
his supporters, however, forced him to let the matter drop.
Possibly the manifestation of a juster feeling on this subject by
leading Irish Protestants will embolden the government to pro-
ceed on the lines then indicated.

The Newcastle meeting of the National Liberal Federation will,
in all probability, be memorable as well for the proposals adopt-
ed by the party as objects of legislation, as also, and chiefly, on
account of the manner in \^hich the party leaders became

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 597

the advocates of those proposals. In addition to Home Rule,
the disestablishment of the Presbyterian Church in Scotland and
of the Episcopal in Wales, shorter Parliaments, reform of regis-
tration, the " mending or ending " of the House of Lords in
certain eventualities, land-law reform, payment of members of
the House of Commons, and the direct popular veto of the
liquor-traffic were formally adopted as " planks " of the plat-
form. The manner of this adoption is, however, more remarka-
ble than the proposals themselves, and marks in a more striking
way than ever before the gradual change of English political
methods. The proper function of a statesman has been consid-
ered that of guiding the less experienced and comparatively un-
educated to the adoption of measures which these leaders from
their loftier stand-point judge to be for the general good of the
country. In the main English statesmen have endeavored to
fulfil this duty. Now it seems that they are contented with
acting as advocates of measures that will secure them the great-
est number of votes. A large proportion of those mentioned in
the Newcastle programme had never up to that meeting been
accepted by the leaders ; in some conspicuous instances explicit
opposition had been offered. It is satisfactory to note that the
" popular." control of voluntary schools does not appear in the
programme, although almost all of the Liberal leaders have com-
mitted themselves to it. This omission may be due to the influ-
ence of the Marquis of Ripon, who, as a Catholic, must, not-
withstanding his somewhat ambiguous speech in the House of
Lords, find it hard to adopt the principles of his party in this
respect. Another notable omission is the legal eight-hours day.
Large numbers of working-men are said to be greatly aggrieved
by this, and labor candidates in opposition to the regular nomi-
nations of the Liberal party may be brought forward.

The proceedings of the organizing body of the Conservative
party, the National Union of Conservative Associations although
this association has not so much authority as is possessed by its
rival, the National Liberal Federation are not without interest
as showing the development of political and social thought. In
some points it is surprising to find that this body of Conserva-
tive delegates adopted what are generally looked upon as ad-
vanced ideas. A resolution in favor of the admission of women
to the franchise was proposed by a Catholic delegate and candi-
date for Parliament, and carried by an overwhelming majority.
After a very long discussion a resolution in favor of the estab-

598 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Jan.,

lishment of a labor department, to be presided over by a labor
minister, was carried, there being only two dissentients. The at-
titude of the Conservative party towards labor candidates for
Parliament, provided they are Unionists in the political sense of
the term, was declared to be one of sympathy and encourage-
ment.

The greatest and most striking advance, however, was found
in the proposals with reference to land. One of the greatest
problems pressing upon the minds of English statesmen arises
from the gradual decrease of the rural population, and the conse-
quent agglomeration of large numbers of the unemployed in the
cities. How to keep the agricultural laborer on the farm and
at the same time to maintain the policy of free trade, is a ques-
tion demanding solution. Not a few think it insoluble, and are
beginning to ask for a modification of the free-trade policy. In
fact, this conference, after a long and warm discussion, passed a
resolution in favor of free trade between the mother country and
the colonies, with a discrimination against outside countries.
Every attack on free trade, however, is resented as warmly by
Conservative as by Liberal leaders, by the Marquis of Salisbury
as by Mr. Gladstone, and if the agricultural laborer is to wait
for prosperity until free trade is modified his fate is indeed
dreary. The conference doubtless felt this, for it passed with
virtual unanimity a resolution proposed by a Conservative mem-
ber of Parliament in favor of a modified form of the Irish Land
Purchase Acts. The government is to lend to the local authori-
ties money at the current rate of interest. With this money the
local authority is to buy land, and to sell it to any person for
so much down and a gradual repayment of part of the purchase
money during succeeding years. It is proposed that there should
be two kinds of holdings : the one to be called a " spade " hold-
ing, not exceeding a maximum size of ten acres, and the other
a " plough " holding, with a minimum size of thirty and a maxi-
mum of one hundred acres. That the Conservatives should in
this way invoke the intervention of the state in such matters
will doubtless be a surprise to their opponents.

The extent to which old opinions and ideas survive is well
known. One of the oldest of heresies the Nazarean has adhe-
rents still living who have descended in unbroken succession
from the first heretics. There is a shop in London which sells
the old tinder-box, and is supported by persons who will not

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 599

use the lucifer match. But we were not prepared to learn that
an organized Jacobite party still exists. Such is, however, the
fact. A few weeks ago a public meeting was held at St. Ives,
Hants, which its promoters declare to have been a great suc-
cess. It was presided over by a clergyman of the Established
Church, and on its breaking up the audience departed singing
Jacobite songs wirh great ardor. This meeting has revealed the
fact that, there is a Legitimist League, and its secretary writes
to the papers to inform the public that " applications for mem-
bership are being forwarded to the offices of the League as fast
as her Majesty's mails can deliver them." We have not heard
that any steps have been taken to suppress the movement ; this
shows that British subjects in England are not unduly fettered
in the expression of their political opinions. If the movement
were likely to become strong, however, the course of proceeding
might be different. Its safety may be due to its weakness.

Although, with the experience of the past and the examples
of the present before our eyes, constitutionally governed coun-
tries are not likely to return to the autocracy of former times,
nevertheless the representative system of government as at pre-
sent organized does not appear to give complete satisfaction.
Of late various expedients have been adopted in order to control
the will of the majority of the representatives a majority which
having been elected for one purpose may proceed to use its
power for quite another. In Switzerland the Referendum has
been devised in order to ascertain, whenever it seems desirable,
the will of the people with reference to the decision of the Par-
liament, and as a matter of fact acts passed by the Parliament
have been again and again rejected by the popular vote. In
Belgium there is a movement for the same end. A method
which leaves to parliaments the fulness of their powers has been
adopted by two cantons of Switzerland for the management of
their local affairs, and finds in England not numerous, indeed,
but weighty and influential supporters. This is what is called
proportional representation. Its aim is to secure for minorities
the opportunity of obtaining a hearing, while leaving to the ma-
jority the power of deciding. This method has been adopted in
the voting for the election of English School Boards. The argu-
ments for its adoption in parliamentary elections are not without
strength. For example, while it is generally admitted that Wales
is liberal in politics, yet no one would maintain that it is so
strongly Liberal that the Conservatives should have only three

6oo THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Jan.,

representatives out of thirty. Yet such is the case. We expect,
however, that the present system, being simpler and more effec-
tive, more consonant, too, to the desire to have its own way
which is characteristic of majorities, will hold its own for a long
time to come.

With reference to the maintenance of peace in Europe the
prospects remain unchanged. The visits paid by M. de Giers,
first to Monza, then to Paris, and finally to Berlin, have had for
their object, according to what seems the best information, the
giving of assurances on the part of Russia that it is not the aim
of the recent understanding with France to provoke, for the
present at all events, the " inevitable " war. In fact, were it
possible to apply to Russia the principles of reasoning which are
applicable to other countries, it might be inferred with a high
degree of certainty that the famine which is desolating whole
provinces and which is putting the government to enormous ex-
pense, of which too the full effects will not be felt until next
year, would place Europe at ease so far as her dread of Russia
is concerned. But by the confession, or rather the boast, of one
of her own imperial family, Russia is a semi-barbarous country
when judged by the standards of Western so-called civilization,
and rules of action which guide the latter have no influence over
the former. And so the fear of war still exists how great it is
may be judged by the recent panic in Vienna. An evening
paper stated that the Emperor had, in conversation with a Polish
delegate, said that the famine in Russia had greatly increased
the chances of war. No sooner did the report spread than a
panic took place. The telephones rang up distracted brokers
with orders to sell at any price, telegrams poured into the
Bourse as fast as messengers could bring them, frantic people
leaped out of cabs, panting with impatience to throw valuable
securities on the market at any sacrifice. For a time no busi-
ness could be done ; the brokers, overwhelmed with orders, be-
came desperate. The whole story proved in the course of two
or three hours to be a hoax, and the newspaper is to be prose-
cuted ; but that it should have been believed shows how slight
is the confidence felt in Vienna that peace is secure.

The prosecution by the government of the Archbishop of Aix,
and his condemnation to the payment of a fine, have imperilled
the prospects of the union of parties in France. This prosecu-
tion, gratuitous and insulting as it was, shows the animus of the

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 601

leaders of the Republican party, and should make it clear to the
world that if France is divided, and consequently weakened, the
blame and discredit do not attach to the men who have hitherto
belonged to the older parties ; the advances made by them have
been repelled almost with insult. It may be that this course has
been adopted from the selfish fear of the persons in power that
should there be a general adhesion to the Republic, they them-
selves would have to make way for better men. Many think
that a conflict between church and state is imminent ; we trust,
however, to there being sufficient good sense among men of all
parties to prevent such a calamity. - Although French Socialists
have made a great noise in the world, and have been a source of
anxiety to the police in their own country, their influence in the
parliament has been very little so little that there are no more
than half-a-dozen Socialistic members of the Assembly. How-
ever, a notorious Socialist and Anarchist has secured a seat for
a large manufacturing town elected, too, while he was in prison.
This election may be regarded as a protest against the action of
the authorities in the Foufmies affair ; it scarcely indicates a
serious accession of strength to the movement.

The enthusiastic welcome given to Prince Bismarck when he
passed through Berlin a few weeks ago seems to indicate a cer-
tain uneasiness and disquietude at the actions and utterances of
the German emperor. And not without reason. To his sub-
jects it seems impossible to predict what action may be taken
by a ruler who, with the best of intentions doubtless, encourages
judges to harshness and even unfairness, deliberately writes when
on a visit to the capital of Bavaria Suprema lex regis voluntas
in the Strangers' Book of the Municipality, and tells the recruits
to his army that they have given themselves to him body and
soul, and consequently so belong to him that if he should order
them to fire upon their own parents they would be bound to obey
him without a murmur. In fact, the self-will and self-conceit of
the German emperor are a source of uneasiness not only to his
subjects but to his allies, and consequently to the whole of
Europe. And this notwithstanding the fact that he reads ser-
mons on board ship on Sundays, has had them published, and
exhorts others to do the same. Perhaps this may even add to
the disquietude of Germans.

Very different is the effect of the action of the Emperor of
Austria. The various nationalities which make up Austria-Hun

602 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Jan.,

gary find in him their one bond of union. The authority which
he wields is due to his personal qualities, as well as to the in-
terest which he takes in affairs of state, even the smallest, and
his "thorough acquaintance with them and with his people. Any-
body who has serious business with him may see him and speak
with him quite alone, without even a secretary being present.
Twice a week the emperor is accessible to all classes of his
subjects, and each one is sure of being heard with patience and
attention. His kindness and knowledge and wisdom have ren-
dered him the one monarch of Europe of whom it can be said
that although he is a constitutional sovereign he both reigns and
governs. That there will be trouble in the empire when he is
removed and a young and inexperienced man takes his place, it

requires no prophet to foretelf. Italy is mainly concerned with

the financial difficulties of the country ; the government promise
a remedy, but whether there is patriotism enough to adopt it is

doubtful. The cabinet of Spain has been upset on the same

ground the bad state of the finances. A new cabinet has been
formed, having the same head and belonging to the same party.

In Portugal trie monarchical cause seems to be growing in

popularity, the republicans having been defeated in municipal
elections, and the king and queen having been received with
enthusiasm on the occasion of their recent visit to the north of
the kingdom. Servia has by a further payment of money deliv-
ered herself from the last link which attached her to her worthy
ex-King Milan, so that he is no longer the heir to his son in the

event of the latter's death. So far as regards internal affairs,

Bulgaria remains in statu quo, although the murmurs at the arbi-
trary conduct of M. Stambouloff are becoming ominously loud.
Perhaps the trouble with France, the result, doubtless, of the un-
derstanding between France and Russia, will stifle all opposition
and lead Bulgarians to rally round her ablest guide.

892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 603

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

THE scene of Judith Trachtenberg* is laid in East Galicia, a
region which those who have recently been amused by the
" Girl in the Karpathians " will recur to with all the more readi-
ness on her account. It is a powerful and painful tale. Judith
is a beautiful and stainless Jewish girl, who is betrayed into
false baptism and false marriage by a Christian who loves her
only a little less than he loves himself, and who will sacrifice
everything to her pride and sense of honor except what he
esteems to be his own. He has been bred to consider Jews so
utterly beyond his social pale, that even love cannot undo the
effects of training. As he cannot win Judith without marriage,
and as in Poland, at the date of this tale and possibly even
now, no intermarriages between Jews and Christians are legal
unless the former abandon their hereditary belief, Judith braves
the displeasure of her family, and does not learn until after her
child is born that she has been brutally betrayed. She is
neither a Christian nor a wife, because the pretended minister
of both" sacraments was, like the pretended husband, only in jest.
The situations are strange and painful, and are worked out with
great power. In the end, Judith's will so dominates that of
Count Agenor that she induces him to marry her according to
a newly promulgated law in the Grand Duchy of Weimar, by
whose provision these mixed marriages are legal without any re-
nunciation of faith on the part of the Jew. Then, her pride
appeased and her honor restored, she kills herself " to reward
him " for the sacrifice he has tardily offered them. There is
nothing healthy and nothing pleasant in the tale, but it is
intended as a picture from life, and probably does not lack veri-
similitude.

Sir Edwin Arnold's three delightful magazine articles on Japan
and its people make a volume f of which the ensemble is as
charming as the letter-press. One hardly cares to decide whether
the text or Mr. Blum's illustrations tell their story most effec-
tively. If the author writes the prose of a poet, the artist, un-
like love in the sonnet, looks both with his eyes and with his

** Judith Tracht enter g. By Karl Emil Franzos. Translated by L. P. and C. T. Lewis.
New York : Harper & Brothers.

*(Japonica. By Sir Edwin Arnold. With illustrations by Robert Blum. New York :
Charles Scribner's Sons.

604 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

mind. Perhaps the book has but little that is new to tell the
readers of Mr. Lafarge's recent articles on the same subject,
particularly if he should have supplemented those lucid sketches
by Miss Bacon's prosaic but instructive book on Japanese Girls
and Women. But to read of Japan and the Japanese is getting
to be like reading poetry for one's pleasure one prefers endless
variations of one or two old but eternally fresh themes than
attempts at something new and striking. The present volume,
with its handsome binding, wide margins, thick, smooth, uneven
pages, and its flood of pictures for the inner and outer vision,
makes an exquisite holiday gift, although one not specially ger-
mane to the season.

The final volume* of the Scribner series devoted to Marie
Antoinette brings its heroine to within a year's distance from the
scaffold, and leaves her there, in the gloomy prison of the
Temple. The original series, it should be said, does not termi-
nate where the translations do, Saint-Amand, with his usual
diffuseness, devoting another entire volume to this final year.
Those who read the books in English for the sake of the story
as well as for the history for the sake of detail and picture,
for such imaginative material, in a word, as dates and facts alone
do not supply, will doubtless be sorry to part company so soon
with the majestic figure of the unhappy queen. Fully persuaded
as one may be of the final good results of the French Revolu-
tion, it is impossible to follow this story of unmerited suffering,
endured with heroic courage and Christian magnanimity of soul,
without feeling pity and admiration for the victims, and execra-
tion for their ruthless tormentors. One terrible chapter is devot-
ed to the September massacres, a butchery committed, like its
counterpart in 1871, by a mere handful of paid scoundrels there
were just two hundred and thirty-five of them in ail while all
Paris stood by and trembled but dared not interfere. Another
describes in horrid detail the murder of the Princess de Lam-
balle. In fact, there is hardly any relief to the gloom of this
volume as a whole unless one excepts the keen, sarcastic study
of Mme. Roland's early years. .

The subject of Mrs. Catherwood's historical romancef is pain-
ful enough, but it is very agreeably written. It narrates in a
quaint, persuasive style the defence of Fort St. John, New
Brunswick, by Marie de la Tour and a score or so of brave men

* Marie Antoinette and the Downfall of Royalty. By Imbert de Saint-Amand. New
York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

t The Lady of Fort St. John. By Mary Hartwell Catherwood. Boston and New York :
Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

1,892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 605

in 1645, against D'Aulnay de Charnisay, and the cowardly butch-
ery of its defenders by the latter after he had received their con-
ditional surrender. Among the figures introduced is a sympa-
thetic sketch of the Jesuit martyr, Father Isaac Jogues, beloved
alike by the Huguenot heroine and his Indian converts. The
Capuchin Father Vincent is also portrayed with kindly fidelity,
and Marie de la Tour is both heroic and charming. We fancy,
though, that Mrs. Catherwood is not at her best except when her
imagination is left unfettered by an historical setting. At all
events, a short story she published some half-dozen years ago
in one of the magazines it was called " Adam and Eve," if our
memory serves us gave promise which the present more elaborate
work does not wholly fulfil.

Max O'Rell* is as amusing as ever in his " recollections of
men and things " as he saw them in a recent lecturing tour in
this country and Canada. His stories are often old, but never
dull ; when they relate, as they mostly do, to his personal ex-
periences, they have a familiar perfume suggestive of " headlines "
and the stuffy atmosphere of a newspaper office in the " wee
sma' hours ayont the twal," which is significant of the career
cut short by the author's French nativity and his avocation as a
lecturer. No wonder he admires the New York Sunday papers,
and sees in them " the most wonderful achievement of American
activity." Could a mere visit to Mr. Talmage's tabernacle have
inspired him as it did, had he not had the instincts of a Sun-
day World or Herald reporter, or gone thither primed by well-
known variations on the same theme ? His book, like another
from the same publishing house, Thirty Years of Wit, should be
useful to professional diners-out in search of some more or less
innocuous matter fit to cause a laugh between the courses. But
they have no more intrinsic value than the average Sunday
paper after the foreign telegrams have been cut out.

We have taken too much pleasure in reading about Tom
Playfairf not to find an especial pleasure in commending the
story of his school-days to other readers. Though hardly to be
called a model boy unless one is entitled to a liberal choice in
models we suspect that most mothers would be better satisfied
to have their youngsters constructed on Tom's plan than to
have them rival the Alec Joneses and Jemmy Aldines of the
story. That is because mothers, even the most pious of them,

* A Frenchman in America. By Max O'Rell. New York: Cassell Publishing Co.
t Tom Play/air; or, Making a Start. By Francis J. Finn, S.J. New York: Benziger
Brothers.

VOL. LIV. 39

606 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

have an almost ineradicable preference for earth over heaven for
their boys ; or, to say it more truly, they have a natural and
excusable tendency to defer the time of their transplanting.
Tom is, at all events, a thorough boy, and his history is narrated
in a taking and lively style. Its author has plainly not forgotten
what it is to be a boy in a Christian school. He knows how it
feels to be full of life, health, and high spirits, and at the same
time of devout and adoring faith in the supernatural verities on
which a well-trained Catholic boy is fed. The mingling of natural
and supernatural motives, and their mutual reaction, is here indi-
cated with a free hand which makes not a stroke too much or
too little. It is commending a book for boys highly to say that
while its incidents and its fun will be sure to attract them, its
piety may be trusted not to repel them.

The publisher's preface and imprint once excepted, and there
remains nothing in the pretty little volume of religious verses
called The Palace of Shushan which would indicate a non-Catholic
origin for them. But as that preface dwells on the alleged fact
that " Church people " are dependent on English sources " for
poetical writings of a devout character " unless they " use what
are called ' Religious ' poems other than from Church sources " ;
and as such* locutions have an unmistakably acrid tang not
discoverable in the verses themselves, we say a hearty Amen to
the following petition, which ends the poem called " What
wouldst Thou have me do ?"

" Show me the way which Thou wouldst choose,

To keep before my view,
Lest in my eager, strong self-will
I bend my purpose to fulfil
Some quest self-chosen, and refuse

What Thou wouldst have me do."

The tone of all the poems in the present collection is unex-
ceptionable, they are devout in feeling and expression, and, when
written in rhyme, their execution is almost uniformly so good that
an occasional dreadful assonance like that of " abhor " with
" straw," or " dross " with " source " is even more surprising than
shocking. The poem which gives its title to the volume recalls
Dr. John Mason Neale's " Celestial Country" too strongly both
in matter and style of versification. Those more ambitious ef-
forts in which blank verse is attempted, while meriting every

* The Palace of Shushan, and other Poems. 87 the author of " Christmas Eve in a Hospi-
tal." Milwaukee : The Young Churchman Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 607

praise for their thought and feeling, are astonishingly bad in
workmanship. Entirely devoid of rhythm as well as rhyme, they
compel one to wonder why an ear so true as the other poems
testify to should here have been struck with deafness. There
are some lovely devotional verses in the collection, among them :
"Behold I come quickly"; "Good Friday Night"; "At the
Eucharist " ; " Before receiving the Blessed Sacrament " ; and the
pair entitled " Self-Consecration " and " Unfaithfulness."

Her subjects must be in a very bad way indeed if " Her
Majesty the Queen of Roumania " is not a better sovereign than
she is a novelist. It would not be easy for any royal or semi-
royal author of either sex to produce a more improbable or
tiresome tale, nor one couched in more objectionable English
than Edleen Vaughan* And yet it is interspersed with some ra-
ther pretty ballads. It is a story of fond and foolish mother-
love, the scenes of which seem to be laid in England or Wales,
and the characters chosen from middle and lower class life.
" Kathleen " and " Tom " and " Edleen " herself are bad charac-
ters enough, in all conscience, but even their badness stands out
in high relief against the impenetrable denseness of. their own
stupidity and that of those who surround them. The book is
almost unreadably poor.

A really excellent work for intelligent children, which should
be instructive as well as entertaining, and form a fairly complete
text-book of English literature for the last three centuries, has
long been a desideratum. The want is measurably supplied by
Mrs. Wright in her Stories in English Literature, f Her method
is simple and satisfactory. She gives first a brief but suggestive
description of the early surroundings of the author she has in
hand, the manner and scope of his education, and the develop-
ment of his literary bent. Then, enumerating the list of his
works, she tells the story of some of them at considerable
length. She devotes twelve pages, for example, to an analysis
of the " Midsummer Night's Dream " ; almost as many more to
" The Tempest " and " King Lear," and more briefly outlines
several others. Long chapters are devoted to Bacon, Milton,
and John Bunyan. Then come interesting and simply written
sketches of the essayists and poets of the eighteenth century,
and one of Defoe and the immortal tale which marked the
birth of the English novel. On the. whole, while no reader of

* Edleen Vaughan, or Paths of Peril. By Carmen Sylva (Her Majesty the Queen of Rou-
mania). New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

t Children's Stories in English Literature, from Shakspe&re t0 Tennyson. By Henrietta
Christian Wright. New York : Charles Scribner'i Sons,

6o8 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

this volume will be able to gain from it any personal knowledge
of the quality of an author, since Mrs. Wright's scheme does
not include quotations, yet not even a child could read it atten-
tively without acquiring an important fund of information con-
cerning the material substratum, so to say, of most of the great
masterpieces of English literature. As an introduction to the
study of them it is wholly commendable.

Three new issues of the " Unknown Library " are called re-
spectively European Relations* Shall Girls Propose ? f and John
Sherman, and D hoy a. \ The first belongs to the guide-book order
of novels, and deals chiefly with landscape and architecture in
the Tyrol, as they appeared to a German-American girl on her
travels. It is not engrossing in its interest, and has among its
characters a fat monk busily engaged in the direful machinations
supposed by some to be the chief object of a monk's existence.
The second has nothing startling about it except its title, being
a flippant and unimportant series of short papers on a subject
not unimportant. The two stories bound up together in the
remaining member of the triplet are well told, and have a dis-
tinct literary value. The leisurely sketch of John Sherman's
scanty knowledge of himself and his true needs is very well
done.

The names confronting one on the title-page of E. P. Robins's
excellent translations of nine short stories from as many fa-
mous French authors, are associated with very objectionable
work in the minds of many readers. The selections have been
made, however, with unimpeachable judgment. Domestic fowls
know how to pick good grain even from a muck-heap, and Mr.
Robins, when choosing from Bourget, Gautier, and Zola, has
worked upon a similar plan. One of the best tales in the col-
lection is Zola's " Attack on the Mill." Excellent too, and
characteristic likewise, are Alfred de Musset's " Story of a White
Blackbird" and Gautier's "Thousand and Second Night." But
all are good, well told, and particularly well translated.

The German and Swedish fairy tales || selected and adapted by
Carrie Norris Horwitz are not all new, and of course they do
not wholly escape the suspicion of sameness in means and expe-

* European Relations. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

t Shall Girls Propose ? By a speculative Bachelor. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

\John Sherman, and Dhoya. By Qanconagh. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

Tales of To-day and other Days. Translated from the French by E. P. Robins. New
York : Cassell Publishing Co.

\Fairy-Lore. Collected and adapted from the German by Carrie Norris Horwitz.
Boston : D. Lothrop & Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 609

dients which belongs to their class. Nevertheless, a few of
them, like " The Truthless Princess," " Said's Fate," and " The
Sheik of Alexandria," are fresh as well as pretty. This is the
first time we have met the " Little Corporal " in a position
analogous to that of Haroun al Raschid ; it must be owned he
fits into it admirably, being of the stuff around which myth and
legend cling as naturally as moss around trees in moist climates.
The story here called " The Beautiful Castle " is that put into
verse by William Morris in " The Earthly Paradise " as " East
of the Sun and West of the Moon." In the prose of Miss
Horwitz the locality is "east from the sun and north from the
earth," and the Swan Maidens become doves. Needless to say
that the Morris version is far and away the better reading. But,
comparisons aside, these are all good specimens of the fairy tale,
and as such will be welcomed by all children and childlike
people.

Enough of Mr. Page's recent work for periodicals has been
collected to form two handsome volumes,* brought out simulta-
neously by the same publishers. To our notion the four chil-
dren's stories which make up Among the Camps are quite the
pleasantest things we have seen from their author's pen. Civil
war, as modified by little girls, little kittens, and enormous dolls,
takes a less lurid aspect than usual ; and the gray lion and the
blue lamb lie down together, and rise up to let blue and gray
children lead them in an amicable way which shows how thor-
ough has been the work of reconstruction in Mr. Page's heart
and imagination.

The most important tale among the five composing the other
volume is not that which gives the book its title. Elsket is a
somewhat fantastic variation of the old theme that there is no way
of shutting the tempter out of Eden. In this case Eden is in
Norway, and the Norwegian Eve is separated from all the world
but her grandfather and her betrothed by a torrent and a preci-
pice and a narrow ledge of rock across which two may not walk
abreast. And yet the noble English betrayer comes according
to his custom, and although he does not do his very deadliest
work, yet he unhinges Elsket's brain, and causes a murder and
a suicide. A much better story, pathetic and touching in a high
degree, is " Run to Seed." Mr. Page never fails to write agree-
ably, however. As one of his young admirers remarked the
other day, with these two volumes lying before her : " I did not

* Among the Camps. Elsket. By Thomas Nelson Page. New York : Charles Scribner's
Sons.

6io TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

know Mr. Page was such a good writer, but I find all the
stories I have liked best were his."

Miss Edith Healy, the daughter of one of our foremost
American portrait painters, has written a little volume * on
Christian art, intended as a text-book for the use of schools. It
seems accurate, and is as comprehensive as could be expected
within the limits of space to which she has confined herself.
All the great painters and sculptors who have found their in-
spiration in Christianity are enumerated, their history briefly
told, and their chief works named and located. The chapters
are brief, and a set of questions for the class-room is appended
to each. The book, although exceedingly cheap, retailing for
fifty cents, is not only handsomely bound but carefully printed.
It is prefaced by an eloquent essay on the use and value of art
by the Bishop of Peoria, Dr. Spalding.

There is not overmuch body to Mr. J. M. Barrie's clever
extravaganza, Better Dead ; f in fact, its delicate, dry, pungent
satire, which after all excoriates nobody and nothing, rather re-
minds one of the young Laurence Oliphant's description of
the unsatisfactory dinners to which he was invited by some
Eastern plenipotentiary, as consisting of little more than a suc-
cession of more or less agreeable smells. The characteristic
Barrie strokes begin early in it with Clarrie's departure from the
room where her father, the minister, has just suggested to her
lover, over his tumbler of toddy, that the pair had better come
to an understanding before Andrew departs for London to seek
his fortune as private secretary to a prime minister, or, failing that,
as a journalist. Clarrie retreats " with the love-light in her eye "
on hearing her name mentioned in this delicate connection, but
Andrew does not open the door for her, " being a Scotch gradu-
ate. Besides she might some day be his wife." Foiled in both
ambitions and reduced almost to the point of starvation, Andrew
finally makes his scanty living as a member of the Society for
Doing Without Some People, an association which, except that
its ends must be described as purely objective, is strongly
reminiscent of Mr. Stevenson's Suicide Club. The points
made consist chiefly in the sort of personalities known as
" little digs " ; as, for instance, when Andrew, pursuing Lord
Randolph Churchill with the benevolent idea of putting him
beyond the reach of moral deterioration, follows him for days
from one tobacconist's shop to another, only to find out in the

* On Christian Art. By Edith Healy. New York : Benziger Brothers.

\Better Dead. By J. M. Barrie. Chicago and New York : Rand, McNally & Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 611

end that the mysterious jottings made by the Tory Radical in
front of their windows signify only that he has been " calculat-
ing fame from vesta boxes," comparing the number of his own
photographs on their covers with those of Gladstone, Langtry,
Mary Anderson, and Joseph Chamberlain. Or again, when
Mrs. Fawcett, making a speech before the society, and com-
plaining of that contempt for women shown in their never
placing any of the sex among those who would be "better
dead," asks why Mrs. Kendal's paper on the moral aspect of
the drama in England has not pointed her out as one who can
but deteriorate thenceforward, or if " Mrs. Lynn Linton has not
another article in the new Nineteenth Century that makes her
worthy your attention?" Andrew's interview with Labouchere,
pleading with him to die, is as good a specimen of the peculiar
humor of the book as anything it contains. "Why?" the states-
man not unnaturally asks.

" His visitor sank back in his chair relieved. He had put all
his hopes in the other's common-sense. It had never failed Mr.
Labouchere, and now it promised not to fail Andrew.

" * I am anxious to explain that,' the young man said glibly.
' If you can look at yourself with the same eyes with which you
see other people, it won't take long. Make a looking-glass of me
and it is done.

" 'You have now reached a high position in the world of
politics and literature, to which you have cut your way unaided.
You are a great satirist, combining instruction with amusement
a sort of comic Carlyle. You hate shams so much that if man
had been constructed for it I dare say you would kick at your-
self. You have your enemies, but the very persons who blunt
their weapons on you, do you the honor of sharpening them on
Truth. In short, you have reached the summit of your fame,
and you are too keen a man of the world not to know that fame
is a touch-and-go thing. . . . Wits are like theatres : they
may have a glorious youth and prime, but their old age is dis-
mal. To the outsider, like myself, signs are not wanting to con-
tinue the figure of speech that you have put on your last suc-
cessful piece. Can you say candidly that your last Christmas num-
ber was more than a reflection of its predecessors, or that your
remarks this year on the Derby day took as they did the year be-
fore ? Surely the most incisive of our satirists will not let himself
degenerate into an illustration of Mr. Herbert Spencer's theory
that man repeats himself, like history. Mr. Labouchere, sir, to
those of us who have grown up in your inspiration, it would in-
deed be pitiful if this were so.'

"Andrew's host turned nervously in his chair. Probably he
wished that he had gone to church now. 'You need not be
alarmed,' he said with a forced smile.

612 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

" ' You will die,' cried Andrew, ' before they send you to the
House of Lords ? '

Mr Barrie's work is, as the reader sees, a mere skit this time,
and what is more to its detriment, a local one. It has quality,
however, and salt enough to keep it from spoiling on a sea
voyage.

Mr. McMahon's novel * deals with the Mollie Maguires and
the coal regions of Schuylkill County, Pennsylvania. It has some
very good descriptions of the mine interiors ; good, too, for its
truth to Meehan's peculiar variety of human nature, is the
sketch of that pedagogue. More of us have met that individual
in real life, in the various disguises under which he tries to con-
ceal his tiresome identity than care to meet him again too often
even in fiction. The tone and intention of the story are excellent,
and if greater restraint had been exercised over the dogmatizing,
homiletic and moralizing tendencies of some few of the charac-
ters, it would have been a better novel. As it is, it is far from
a bad one.

The most entertaining novel we have read in many a day is
Paul Cushing's Cut with His Own Diamond.^ Mr. Cushing's
name is unfamiliar. This may be his first novel, as the absence
of any indication that he has produced others from the title-
page would seem to signify, but he is plainly no tyro. He has
served his apprenticeship somewhere in the school of which Mr.
George Meredith is head-master, doubtless, but which pays a
becoming attention also to the methods of Mr. Walter Besant
and the late Charles Reade. Mr. Gushing is no plagiarist, how-
ever. If studies like that of Priscilla Oldcastle, and such epi-
grams as that adopted in serious earnest by her from the lips
of Digby Roy, " This world is nothing but a great struggle
against conscience and prejudices," remind one vividly of Mere-
dith, it is kinship they suggest, not discipleship. His style is
less crowded. It is like a vessel that has traded at some of the
ports most frequented by the Meredith, and loaded itself with
coin instead of the ore bedded in worthless stone often trafficked
in by the latter. Mr. Cushing's novel is good all round ; in its
plot, which holds attention although its secret lies intentionally
open to the reader ; in its incidents, which are many, not im-
probable, and always up to their work of helping along the pro-

* Philip; or, The Maine's Secret. By Patrick Justin McMahon. Philadelphia : H. L.
Kilner & Co.

f Cut with His Own Diamond. By Paul Gushing. New York : Harper & Brothers.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 613

grass of a tale that although long is never dull or involved ; in
its characters, and, as we think, in its lesson of the saving
power of love, and what has been called " the soul of goodness
in things evil." The conversations, however, and notably those
occurring between the elder Oldcastles, seem now and then a
trifle out of keeping. They are too bookish, perhaps too stagy
would be the better word. In fact, one often gets a suggestion
that the novel must have been written with an eye to the stage.
It should be easy to make a play out of it. But, considered
merely as a novel, this occasional lack of keeping, this artificial-
ity rather, is almost its sole defect.

I. CHRISTIANITY AND INFALLIBILITY.*

The doctrine of infallibility is the great question in contro-
versy between Catholics and a large class of Protestants, and
has probably been discussed more than any other one. The di-
vine gift of doctrinal inerrancy is the stronghold where we are
securest, and is the secret of that mighty influence by which the
Catholic Church holds her sway over the minds and consciences
of the majority of Christians. Every convert to our faith is
forced by its absence in schismatical and sectarian bodies of
Christians to come where it alone can be found in the Catholic
Church. The reason is plain. Men wish to know beyond rea-
sonable doubt or danger of deception the way of salvation.
Without it they see no security from error and no assurance of
stability of faith.

Sincere souls there are, without doubt, who do not believe in
it, because they misconceive its meaning or fancy that there are
well-grounded objections against it. The way of truth, however,
can be made plain to such, if they will seek it. Catholics as a
rule find less difficulties in believing in infallibility than in some
other doctrines which orthodox Protestants hold in common with
them. The doctrine of the Trinity, Incarnation, and Sanctifying
Grace are not, we steadfastly maintain, more clearly taught in
sacred Scripture and tradition than that of the infallibility of the
teaching church and of the successors of St. Peter. Rationalists
can and do put forward objections against these doctrines as
strong and forcible as any that Protestants can urge against the
Catholic doctrine of infallibility. Now, it is proverbial that

* Christianity and Infallibility : Both or Neither. By Rev. Daniel Lyons. New York :
Longmans, Green & Co.

614 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

Catholics hold the former doctrines much more firmly than
Protestants do, and the reason is found in the dogmatic infallibil-
ity of the church. We have only to look at Episcopalians,
Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, and the other orthodox
Protestant bodies in this country and compare them with Catho-
lics to see this. If infallibility were an error, is it conceivable
that it could cause the difference which exists between Catholics
and Protestants in this respect ? Not at all ; but if infallibility
be a true doctrine it is easy to see that belief in it would
strengthen belief in other doctrines of which it forms a part. It
is more reasonable to believe in the whole Christian teaching
than in only a part of it. Hence we say, logically one ought to
believe in Christianity and infallibility : both or neither using
the term believe as synonymous with divine faith.

Father Lyons has written one of the clearest and best expo-
sitions of the Catholic teaching on this subject that has yet
appeared in English. His method is excellent. In the first
place he explains carefully what is meant by infallibility, and
patiently corrects the misconceptions which non-Catholics have
concerning it. Then he proceeds to show why Catholics believe
in the doctrine, and he does this more fundamentally than most
other writers. How do Catholics meet the objections against
infallibility ? Here he sets forth the plain and candid answers
which Catholics have for those who urge and make the most of
the difficulties. These objections are stated as fairly as their
authors could present them, and are satisfactorily met and re-
futed in every case. At the conclusion he shows the happiness
which converts find after their acceptance of the Catholic faith ;
and for the information of those who do not see their way to a
full assent to the church's teaching he brings out the facts relat-
ing to the Vatican Council which have been so often distorted
by the enemies of the church, and explains the nature of Pontifi-
cal decrees and the obedience which is due to them.

The book is published in neat form, is not large, and is of-
fered at a low price.

2. ON THE BORDER.*

This is the most graphic and realistic account we have yet
come across of the life and work of our soldiers on the border.
It is the sober reality of that army life on the frontier around

* On the Border with Crook. By John G. Bourke, Capt. Third U. S. Cavalry. New
York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

A 892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 615

which Captain King has thrown the glamour of romance. It is
genuine history, and it is very often stronger than fiction, even
than dime-novel fiction.

Captain Bourke seems to have one leaolmg idea in his mind,
and that is to paint a true picture of scenes and events that can
never recur again in the development of our country ; and few
who know anything about the far West will be disposed to ques-
tion his success.

General Crook is, of course, the central figure in the narrative,
and no nobler figure could have been chosen. We recommend
all who want to form a correct idea of border life and warfare
or who love adventure to read this book.

3. CHRISTIAN SOCIOLOGY.*

Under this title are contained eight 'lectures delivered in
Princeton Theological Seminary. Their topic is Christian Soci-
ology. The author says we agree with him, and all earnest
believers in God and Christianity must be of the same mind :
" There is no peace for us but in becoming a more Christian
nation, and discovering anew the pertinence of the Ten Words
of Sinai and the Sermon of the Foundations to our social con-
dition" (p. 4). In reference to religion as taking hold of man-
kind not merely as individuals, but in their solidarity as social
beings, having a common life, the author goes on to say : " The
Baptist and our Lord both begin their mission by proclaiming,
not a way of salvation for individuals, but a kingdom of heaven
a new order of society, a holy and universal brotherhood
transcending all national limitations, and embracing, or aiming to
embrace, the whole family of man " (p. 7). To this general
statement he adds that eminent political economists " join in
the declaration that their own studies in the field of economic
research have satisfied them that the spiritual lies deeper than
the economic, that the first need of modern society is the diffu-
sion of Christian principle, and that a right relation of man to
God is the greatest fact of human environment" (p. li).

Proceeding to the consideration of the three normal forms of
society, the family, the state, and the church, the author lays
down certain principles and makes certain observations in regard
to the natural and the Christian idea of the conjugal and parental
relations, which, exceptis excipiendis, are sound, and so generally

* The Divine Order of Human Society. By Professor Robert Ellis Thompson,
S.T.D. University of Pennsylvania. Philadelphia : John D. Wattles.

616 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.

received by all respectable moralists that we pass them over
without special remark.

On the origin and nature of the state and nation, rejecting
the baseless hypothesis of the social compact and purely human
contrivance, the author proclaims the divine institution and sanc-
tion of the state and of legitimate political institutions, authority,
and government. The state, as well as the family, is a part of
the kingdom of God on the earth, and the nation which is
founded upon and governed by right Christian principles " ac-
knowledges God as its supreme ruler, regards his will as the
highest standard of national conscience, and sees in him a king
as real as any of any earthly dynasty. It recognizes all national
authority as delegated by him. It holds his law, as revealed in
the written Word and in the human conscience, to be a higher
law to which the wronged and oppressed may always appeal "
(p. 105). The phrase* "in the written Word" is an interpola-
tion of the author's sectarian doctrine which could easily be
shown to vitiate his entire thesis and make it impracticable, as
is proved historically by Calvin's regime in Geneva, the events
which took place in Scotland, and the issue of the Puritan the-
ocracy in New England. Taking away this patch of foreign
and incongruous material sewed on to the fair and substantial
texture of his argument, it is well woven. There are many ex-
cellent remarks on the mischief of secularism, agnosticism, social-
ism, and communism in the sphere of social ethics.

In a chapter devoted to the subject of schools the author
makes some excellent remarks in opposition to the thesis that
our American republic is wholly un-Christian, and ought, there-
fore, to have a national system of education on a purely secular
and unreligious basis.

" Secular education is a cramped, maimed, palsied education.
. . . The secularization of instruction in the public schools is
to cut off the children of the nation from contact with the deep-
est springs of its moral and intellectual life. It is to isolate all
sciences from that fundamental science which gives them unity
and perennial interest the knowledge of God. It is to rob his-
tory of its significance as the divine education of the race, and
to reduce it perilously near to Schopenhauer's estimate, that it
had no more meaning than the wrangling and strife of the wild
beasts of the forest. It is to deprive ethical teaching of the
only basis which can make its precepts powerful for the control
of conduct. It is to deprive national order of the supreme sanc-
tion which invests it with the dignity of divine authority " (pp.
180-181).

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 617

Finally the author speaks of the church, and we would gladly
quote largely from him if we had space enough at command.
As it is, a few citations must suffice :

" The church is not an afterthought. It is no accidental or
superficial feature of the Christian dispensation. It is at once
God's answer to men's highest aspirations, and the crowning re-
sult of his whole work for the redemption of men. Nor is the
church a mere instrument for the perfecting of individual saints,
as some have considered it " [as it is in the genuine Protestant
conception, logically derived from the two notions of justification
by faith alone, and the Bible interpreted by private judgment
as the sole rule of belief] ; " a kind of school to which we must
go until we have learned its lessons, or a crutch we need until
we are strong enough to walk alone. It is an end in itself, be-
cause it has a moral personality of its own. It is a spiritual
finality, begun here and to be continued through endless ages,
as the holy order in which the redeemed and sanctified shall
abide for ever. The church is not a mere aggregation of regen-
erate spirits, whose inward life contains no more than these
bring to it of their own. It is a spiritual organism which has a
life antecedent to that of its members, and which contains more
than is found in the totality of its separate members. Its mem-
bers live by entering its life, and renouncing that selfish and
self-centred life which made them mere spiritual atoms " (p. 200).

" There was a time when I thought I could attach a mean
ing to this distinction between the visible and the invisible
church, but I am no longer able to do so. My studies in soci-
ology have made that distinction unreal to me. It is true that,
in one sense, the Church of Christ is an invisible body, and that,
in another, it is a body which makes itself visible to us by
various signs, sacraments, and assemblies, but this is just as true
of every other form of society" (p. 203).

As we should expect from one who makes such a declaration
of his belief, Dr. Thompson deplores and condemns in emphatic
terms the sectarian divisions among Protestants :

" Let us not shut our eyes to the grave evil of the sunder-
ing of the Church of Christ the visible church, if you please
into the manifold divisions which exist in this land and through-
out most parts of Protestant Christendom. . . . When we
speak of the church as a witness to men that God is gathering
all things under one head in Christ, is not the world justified in
asking what serious sense we can attach to such words in our
age, even if they did mean something in the times when the
Apostle wrote them ? " (p. 205).

The author enlarges at considerable length upon this thesis,

618 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

with several particular applications to religious, moral, and social
needs, demanding the agency of the church as their remedy, and
requiring as a condition of her ability to exert it, the cessation
of divisions by union among all the separated sects which, in his
view, are the church.

The Catholic Church he notices only by occasionally pausing
to shoot at her some blank cartridges of vituperation. The
doctor has a Roman bee buzzing loudly in his bonnet, which
annoys him excessively. Is it that he has an uneasy conscious-
ness that his premises lead to a Catholic conclusion ? Does he
fear that his Presbyterian orthodoxy may be suspected by his
Princeton auditors? Or does he suspect that some of those
who are still in the candid, generous period of youth, untram-
meled by the bonds which tie so many older men to a position
in which they are discontented, might have their eyes opened to
the essential nullity of Protestantism?

Be this as it may, it is matter for surprise that any intelli-
gent mind can adopt the principles of Dr. Thompson, and fail
to see that Jesus Christ must have given to the apostolic church
an organization capable of preserving Catholic unity through all
the ages. It is strange, also, that any one can expect that the
scattered dry bones of Protestantism can ever unite into a
whole and living body. The views of these Lectures, with all
their disjointed truths, taken as a whole, make up something
which is purely theoretical, an ens rationis which has not and
cannot have real being. It furnishes material for eloquent talk,
but no plan of action. We trust that those who heard and those
who will read the many excellent passages contained in these
Lectures, will ponder over them, to their own good, and will
help to diffuse some good seed which in time may germinate
and fructify, in a way not intended by their author.

4. SIMPLICITY.*

Simplicity is the title of a new Faber booklet issued by Pott
& Co. with their usual good taste. It consists of four of Faber's
Conferences : Simplicity, Wounded Feelings, Weariness in Well-
doing, A Taste for Reading Considered as a Help in the Spiri-
tual Life. The Conferences have been judiciously chosen ; they
contain the best and most universally applicable teaching of

* Simplicity. New York : James Pott & Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 619

Faber, and are full of that devout spirit and straightforward
practical sense which Faber so happily combines. For example,
in the chapter on Simplicity : " If we wish to be truthful with
others we must avoid explaining and commenting our actions in
conversation. For either we must make our conversation like a
regular confession, or we must convey an untrue idea of our-
selves. Let us take one instance. What is more common for
us to say than, ' I assure you I did such and such a thing en-
tirely because so and so ' ? Now, we know very well that never,
since we were born, have we ever done one single action en-
tirely for any one single motive." Again, in the last chapter of
the book, where he gives the advantages and virtues accruing
from good reading : " A vacant hour is always the devil's hour ;
. . . then it is that a book is a strong tower, nay, a very
church, with angels among the leaves as if they were so many
niches." Again : u Our books are our neighbor's allies, by making
it less necessary to discuss him."

5. CATHOLIC CHURCH MUSIC.*

Prepared under the supervision of that most worthy and in-
defatigable church musician, the Chevalier John Singenberger,
this volume offers us a well-arranged catalogue of the publica-
tions of Gregorian chant issued by Messrs. Pustet & Co., and of
thousands of musical compositions for different portions of the
church offices, chiefly by the musically competent members and
promoters of the St. Cecilia Society. Those who for good rea-
sons require concerted music for their church services will here
find all they need, and be sure that what is offered them is
meant for the praise of God, and not for the praise of the pro-
fessional soloist or for the sensual delectation of the hearer.
We wish we could get every priest and choir-master in the
country to read the admirable preface written by the Rt. Rev.
Bishop Marty, himself a profound musical scholar. In it he
takes occasion to pay a justly deserved tribute to the superior
merit of Gregorian chant to all other so-called "sacred" music
of the church. He also lays down the rubrical rules, which can
only be observed where chant is sung, for the singing by both
the congregation and the select choir ; rightly taking it for

* Guide in Catholic Church Music. Published by order of the First Provincial Council of
Milwaukee and St. Paul, with a Preface by Rt. Rev. Bishop M. Marty, D.D. St. Francis,
Wis.: J. Singenberger.

620 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

granted that the church intends the people to take part in the
singing at High Mass and Vespers. As yet we do not know of
any church in this country where those rules apply in fact. God
being the helper of those who love the beauty of his house and
the place where his glory dwelleth, the day will not be far dis-
tant when such a blessed end shall be attained.

6. STEWART ROSE'S ST. IGNATIUS.*

We welcome this new edition of the life of St. Ignatius of
Loyola with a double greeting. First, because it places a valu-
able book again at the command of the public ; and, second, be-
cause of the expurgation of a number of things which were
blots on the first and second editions. Moreover, this life has
another feature which renders it valuable. It is written in Eng-
lish. It does not suffer, as many lives of the saints have suf-
fered, at the hands of a translator who knows little of translating.

There are one hundred wood-cuts in this new edition, some
of them reproductions of obsolete engravings, which enhance the
value of the work. The text has been revised and many lesser
errors and faults corrected.

There is one thing, however, which the Dublin Review called
attention to, and which we should like to see discussed. It in-
volves the whole question of the Jewish Crypto-Catholics in
Spain. The passage referred to is on page 501. Mr. Rose can-
not have made a statement like this at random ; he could hardly
have taken it second-hand without verification. We should like
to know the facts in the case, the places, persons, and dates.

Again, he speaks of the " extravagant dread of heresy in
Spain," on the same page. Formal heresy persisted in is equiv-
alent to apostasy, which is numbered as the worst of crimes.
How, then, can the dread of it be extravagant ?

The former question of the Jews secretly becoming clerics,
and even bishops, in Spain to further their ends is undeniable,
but that they committed such awful atrocities as are related here
is hardly credible. The latter error is a small one, and the blot
may be expunged in a new edition.

The book is got up almost as an Edition de luxe. It is, how-
ever, rather unwieldy, but will adorn the parlor-table as well as
furnish excellent historical and spiritual reading.

* St. Ignatius and the early Jesuits. By Stewart Rose. New York : Catholic Publication
Society Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 621

/. DR. DRIVER AND THE BOOK OF DANIEL.*

)r. Driver is the successor of Dr. Pusey in the chair of He-
brew at Oxford. This in itself affords ample evidence of
scholarship and learning. He was a member of the Old Testa-
ment Revision Company, and his numerous writings and articles,
particularly his work on the use of the tenses in Hebrew, have
given him a wide reputation, both in Europe and in this coun-
try. Although the successor of Dr. Pusey in the professor's
chair, when it is a question of succession in doctrine the case
is very different. For Dr. Driver, although courteous and respect-
ful in his tone towards opponents, must be considered as a de-
cided adversary of the teachings of Dr. Pusey. As an example
we may quote his conclusion with reference to the book of
Daniel, of the authenticity of which Dr. Pusey was so earnest a
defender. Dr. Driver says : " The verdict of the language of
Daniel is thus clear. The Persian words presuppose a period
after the Persian Empire had been well established : the Greek
words demand, the Hebrew supports, and the Aramaic permits a
date after the conquest of Palestine by Alexander the Great (B.C.
332). . . . The theology of the book points to a later age
than that of the Exile. ... A number of independent con-
siderations combine in favor of the conclusion that the Book
of Daniel was not written earlier than c. 300 B.C." Dr. Driver
is, in fact, a defender of the advanced conclusions of the latest
criticism, and as a learned, temperate, and fair statement of
these conclusions his work has great value ; as such it deserves
the attention of all students of Holy Scripture. It forms the
first of a series of theological works called " The International
Theological Library," of which Dr. Briggs is one of the editors,
and to which Dr. A. B. Davidson, Dr. Fisher, Dr. Fairburn, Dr.
Schaff, and Dr. Newman Smyth are contributors.

8. COLUMBUS A LA FROUDE.f

The new work of Justin Winsor, the Librarian of Harvard,
is an expansion of what he wrote a few years ago about
Christopher Columbus in his Narrative and Critical History of
America. Both works will be found useful to the student of

* An Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament. By S. R. Driver, D.D. New
York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

t Christopher Columbus. By Justin Winsor. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mif-
flin & Co.

VOL. LIV. 40

622 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

Columbian biography in as far as they point out most of the
different sources of information, but in little else. The .new
biography of the discoverer of America follows closely but suc-
cinctly its prototype, Harrisse's large work, Christophe Colomb.

Indeed, Winsor is very apt to lose his path whenever he
parts company with Harrisse, as when, at page 75, he gives us
to understand that Columbus's father, Domenico, was habitually
insolvent ; when, at page 76, he tells us that notarial records,
brought to bear by the Marquis Staglieno, make it evident
that Columbus was born between October 29, 1446, and Octo-
ber 29, 1451 ; when, at page 92, that "he [Columbus] had a
talent for deceit and sometimes boasted of it, or at least counted it
as a merit" ; when, at page 105, he says: "This woman, Felipa
Mofiiz" (the wife of Columbus) "by name, is said to have
been a daughter, by his wife, Caterina Visconti, of Bartolomeo
Perestrello," etc., etc.

The book appears to be one of a class called by the French
livres d y occasion, and we think it will not live much longer than
V occasion i.e., A.D. 1892 and 1893.

The rabid invectives against Columbus, Ferdinand, and Isa-
bella, and almost every friend of the great mariner, the lurid
exaggerations of true and imaginery faults of Columbus, will
startle a class of readers for a brief period, but the novelty
will soon wear out. Following is Winsor's portrait of Isabella,
page 160 : " We read in Oviedo of her splendid soul. Peter
Martyr found commendations of ordinary humanity not enough
for her. Those nearest her person spoke as admiringly. It is
the fortune, however, of a historical student, who lies beyond
the influence of personal favor, to read in archives her most
secret professions, and to gauge the innermost wishes of a soul
which was carefully posed before her contemporaries. It is
mirrored to-day in a thousand revealing lenses that were not to
be seen by her contemporaries. Irving and Prescott simply fall
into the adulation of her servitors," etc.

It would have been more satisfactory to the reader if the
author had allowed him an opportunity of looking personally
through some, at least, of those "thousand revealing lenses."

Ferdinand is thus described : " He had, of course, virtues
that shone when the sun shone. He could be equable. He
knew how to work steadily, to eat moderately, and to dress
simply. He was enterprising in his actions, as the Moors and
heretics found out. He did not extort money: he only ex-
torted agonized confessions. He said Masses and prayed equally

.1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 623

well for God's benediction on evil as on good things. He made
promises, and then got the papal dispensation to break them."
The author has thus demonstrated that he is not competent to
write the biography of a Catholic, as Columbus was.

According to Winsor, the famous Genoese was a thief, a
perjurer and instigator of perjury, a religious impostor and
sacrilegious blasphemer (pages 510 and 511), a madman (passim}.

Though following very generally, and without seriously enter-
ing into its merits or dements, the more than severe critique of
Harrisse, the author is found in direct opposition to the New-
Yorker in his estimate of the worth of Washington Irving's
biography of Columbus :

" Irving's canons of historical criticism were not, however,
such as the fearless and discriminating student to-day would ap-
prove. He commended Herrera for 'the amiable and pardon-
able error of softening excesses,' as if a historian sat in a con-
fessional to deal out exculpations. The learning which probes
long-established pretences and grateful deceits was not accepta-
ble to Irving. ' There is a certain meddlesome spirit,' he says,
' which, in the garb of learned research, goes prying about the
traces of history, casting down its monuments, and marring and
mutilating its fairest trophies. Care should be taken to vindi-
cate great names from such pernicious erudition.' '

The author in review had already said in the introduction to
his Narrative and Critical History of America that " Irving
proved an amiable hero-worshipper"; and at page 51 of his
Christopher Columbus he thus speaks of Harrisse : " It is to an
American citizen writing in French that we owe . . . such a
minute collation and examination of every original source of
information as set the labors of Henry Harrisse, for thorough-
ness and discrimination, in advance of any critical labor that has
ever before been given to the career and character of Christo-
pher Columbus. Without the aid of his researches, as embodied
in his Christophe Colomb (Paris, 1884), it would have been quite
impossible for the present writer to have reached conclusions on
a good many mooted points in the history of the admiral and
of his reputation." Now let us see what Harrisse has to say
of Irving :

"Irving studied with care almost all the documents referring
to Christopher Columbus which were known in his time. And
his frequent quotations of the histories of Las Casas, Oviedo,
and Bernaldez, then inedited, and of which only two or three
copies were known, show the honesty (probiti) of his researches.

624 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

The work of Washington Irving is more than literary. It is a
history, written with discernment (jugement) and impartiality,
leaving far behind it all the descriptions of the discovery of the
New World which have been written before or since" (Har-
risse in Christophe Colomb, page 136, vol. i.) The distinguished
librarian of Harvard treated Prescott and Humboldt to the
same kind of criticism which he dispensed to Irving. It is, how-
ever, doubtful if he will succeed in dislodging the trio from
their lofty historical pedestals. They appear to us to be,
jointly and severally, safer guides to the student of Columbian
biography.

9. AN O'REILLY ANTHOLOGY.*

This collection of flowers from the writings of John Boyle
O'Reilly is in every way worthy of perusal. The poetical selec-
tions are already familiar to most readers; the prose selections
are not so well known. Miss Conway's thoughtful and apprecia-
tive estimate of the poet and literary worker which introduces
" The Watchwords" is of a kind to make one wish a closer ac-
quaintance with O'Reilly. Together with her own estimate she
gives that of writers of every degree from the gulf to the lakes.
And from the universal praise he has received from men of
every shade of thought the reader is forced to concur with that
"son of the Puritans" who wrote of John Boyle O'Reilly: "/
wish we could make all the people in the world stand still and
think and feel about this rare, great, exquisite-souled man until
they should fully comprehend him. Boyle was the greatest man, the
finest heart and soul in Boston, and my most dear friend."

O'Reilly was a poet, a man not untouched by genius, but
better, he was a pacificator, a unificator, a man who, in making
himself respected, made his race and his religion respected. His
writings may be forgotten, his work never. And the good he
wrought shall not cease, and " the light " he made, " that the
world may see," shall not fail.

The book is elegantly bound and illustrated, the typography
indeed exquisite.

* Watchwords from John Boyle O^Reilly. Edited by Katherine E. Conway. Boston :
J. G. Cupples.

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 625

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ALL COMMUNICATIONS RELATING TO READING CIRCLES, LISTS OF BOOKS,
ETC., SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, NO.
415 WEST FIFTY-NINTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY.

THE Union Catholic Library Association of Chicago is in
the twenty-third year of its existence, and judging from the
programme sent to us for the season 1891-1892 it will be in a
flourishing condition for the World's Columbian Exposition in
1893. On the committee for lectures we recognize the name of
Mr. E. E. V. Eagle, to whom the Columbian Reading Union is
indebted for many favors. The board of managers have arranged
for the instruction and entertainment of the members a course
of lectures and literary meetings, in which the Reading Club is
to be prominently represented. During November Miss Eliza
Allen Starr gave three lectures on Dante. In December Miss
Mary M. Meline, niece of the gifted Col. Meline, delivered three
lectures on Isabella of Castile and the English Guilds in the
Middle Ages. The subjects of the lectures for the new year
1892 are not announced, but the distinguished speakers secured
for them are Rev. P. J. Agnew, Rev. James McGovern, D.D.,

and Rev. T. S. Fitzgerald, rector of St. Ignatius College.
# * *

Letters on various topics connected with the management of
Reading Circles and the diffusion of Catholic literature have
been received from P. B. C., Indianapolis, Ind. ; A. T. S., Wa-
tertown, Mass. ; J. L. S., Detroit, Mich. ; P. E. M., San Fran-
cisco, Cal. ; A. G. H., Everett, Miss. ; M. H., South Scituate, R.
I.; E. T. M., Milwaukee, Wis. ; J. F. M., Troy, New York; F.
X. L., Cincinnati, O. ; N. J. McC., Oakland, Cal. ; A. C., Indian-
apolis, Ind. ; F. P. C., Philadelphia, Pa. ; L. A. H., New Bedford,
Mass. ; T. F., Chicago, 111. ; F. A. H., Saratoga Springs, N. Y. ;
F. P. H., Pittsburgh, Pa. ; T. A. C., Baltimore, Md. ; D. J. S.,
Boston, Mass.; J. M., New York City; F. G. R., Mobile, Ala.;
S. P. B., Norfolk, Va. ; C. S., Minonk, 111. ; D. McC., Short Hills,
N. J. ; C. W., Pittsburgh, Pa. ; M. A., Fall River, Mass. ; J. W.
H., Philadelphia, Pa.

*-**

Several communications have been sent to us from Catholic
Young Men's Societies. The work of a Reading Circle can be
easily managed in connection with their literary exercises. It is
not necessary that all the members should be required to take
an active part, for the same reason that 'all are not expected to
study vocal or instrumental music. A young man in the South writes :

626 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Jan,,

" We have established in our Club a Literary Section, some-
what the same plan as your Reading Circles, of which I learned
through that worthy magazine THE CATHOLIC WORLD. I wish
you would send to us the full plans and working of the Colum-
bian Reading Union, so that I can present them at our next
meeting. We are considering the advisability of establishing a

Reading Circle."

* # *

Another correspondent writes : " We are organizing a Reading
Circle in our parish, and knowing. yours to be the pioneer Circle
of the kind, we thought you would not object to giving us a
little information. The society is practically organized, but we
are not in working order as yet, not knowing just how to begin.
We would like to know how to conduct our meetings, what
books to take up, how to take them up, etc. Any suggestions
or points that would be adapted to the needs of beginners we
would be very glad to have. I suppose we would require a list
of books, and we would be very grateful if you would suggest
some. I have seen reports about the Columbian Reading Union
in THE CATHOLIC WORLD. Please give us any suggestions that
you think would aid us. We have only a small membership at
present, but hope to have it increased shortly."
x- * *

Requests for the lists of the Columbian Reading Union have
lately been received from A. S., Marseilles, France ; D. J. S.,
Montreal, Canada ; D. A. C, Antigonish, Nova Scotia ; J. H.
O'D., Waterbury, Conn.; H. A. S., Philadelphia, Pa.; J. O'C,
Seneca Falls, N. Y.; G. I., New York City; G. M. S., Brook-
land, D. C.; B. A. E., Minneapolis, Minn.; L. G., Buffalo, N. Y.;
J. T. C., Washington, D. C.; M. F. C., Token Creek, Wis.; J.
V. S., Memphis, Tenn.; E. McG., New Orleans, La.; N. M. N.,
Philadelphia, Pa.; K. E. C., Racine, Wis.; W. J. D., Boston,
Mass.; M. McD., Solon, Iowa ; A. McD., Iowa City, Iowa ; J.
J. D., Morse, Iowa ; E. M., State Line, Wis.; A. S., Springdale,
Iowa ; E. J. B., Flagstaff, Ariz.

Among these numerous applicants only a few sent more than
ten cents to pay for the circulars and postage. Some of the
writers asked for all information and printed matter the Colum-
bian Reading Union could provide in return for a postage-stamp
worth two cents. In the hope of sowing the good seed we have
sent hundreds of our circulars gratis, especially to educational in-
stitutions. The only regret is that our funds will not permit
us to print lists more frequently, and disseminate them more
widely. In the future as in the past we must rely on the solid
friends who have paid a dollar annually some have given a
much larger amount to sustain the good work. We hope that
every friend of Catholic Reading Circles will make a special
effort to assist our plans for the year 1892 by sending promptly
one dollar for membership.

1-892.]

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

627

A considerable number of names have been suggested during
the year 1891 for the complete list of Catholic authors whose
works are published in the English language. Concerning each
Catholic author we have sought to get, (i) the titles of books;
(2) the names of publishers ; (3) an indication of which books are
now for sale. From our members throughout the United States
we have received valuable assistance in getting the desired infor-
mation. Some names were sent marked with an interrogation
point, showing that there is a doubt whether they may be clas-
sified as Catholic authors, or whether any of their books are
published in English. It will be noticed that this doubtful list
contains many writers whose works first appeared in a foreign
language :

Allen, M.,

Andrews, W.,

Atkinson, Mrs. S.,

Arrington, Alfred W.,

Archer, Rev. W.,

Barbour, John,

Bancroft, Mrs.,

Bellingham, Sir Henry,

Berners, Juliana,

Bedford, Dr.,

Belloc, Madame (ne'e Bessie
Raynor Parkes),

Bennett, Ann R. (ne Glad-
stone, " The Dark Wood "),

Bishop, Mrs. M.,

Blaklin, Sir Henry,

Book, Rev. W. J.,

Bowden, Mrs.,

Brentano, C.,

Brenn, Miss F. M.,

Braye, Lord,

Bury, Viscount,

Busk, Miss H. R.,

Butler, Charles,

Cantu, Csare,

Callnan, J. J.,

Cavalcaselle, B. G.,

Cassidy, S.,

Chevreul, M. (chemist),

Chatterton, Lady,

Cokain, Sir Aston,

Constable, Henry,

Cormeninde, Viscount,

Cuvier, A. G.,

Dalton, Rev. John,

De Coulanges, Fustel,

De Mandat, Grancey,

De Maidallac, Marquis,

D'Azeglio, M.,

D'Arras, Madame,

De Saintine, ,

De Sgur, P.,

Davenant, Sir William,

Dale, H. I.,

Dawson, Rev. M. A.,

De Gasp, Philippe Ambert,

Dermody, J.,

Dennelly, Canon E. H.,

Dimitry, John,

Donlevy, Canon J.,

Domenech, Abb,

Douglas, Gavin,

Dunbar, Rev. Wm.,

Durward, T. B.,

Dupaty, Abbe",

Dugdale, Sir Wm.,

Dupuytren, Baron,

Eginhard,

Ellert, Mrs. E.,

Eustace, Rev. C.,

Fitzsimmons, E. 'A. (Mrs,

Walsh),

Feuillet, Octave,
Ford, Rev. J.,

Fouque, F. H. C. De La Motte,
Froissart,
Gayarre", Charles,
Gozzi, Carlo,
Guicciardini, ,
Gilmartin, Rev. T.,

628

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

[Jan.,

Gladstone, Miss,
Hamlin, Mrs. J. V. W.,
Howitt, Mary,
Hemmenway, Miss,
Hendry, Eliza C.,
Hennessy, Wm. Mansell,
Holloway, Mrs. E. D.,
Holland, Denis,
Hosmer, W. H. C,
Hynne, Lady C.,
Jomini, Baron Henri de,
Joinville, Jean Sieur de,
Kavanagh, Morgan.
Kane, Sir Robert,
Ketcham, Mrs. A. C.,
Labanoff, Prince A.,
Le Due, Viollet,
Leonard, J. P.,
Lichtenstein, Princess,
La Bruyere, ,
Lodge, Thomas,
Lynch, Lieut. Wm. F.,
Lynch, Annie C.,
Lynch, Hannah,
Morgan, Lady,
McGrath, Terence,
McCassay, John,
McCarthy, John George,
Massinger, Philip,
Mulhall, Mrs. Marion,
Martin, Lady,
McCabe, Wm. B.,
Meynell, Rev. Dr. C. W.,
Marcy, Dr.,
Mathews, F. J.,
Moore, Geo. Henry,
Mermillod, Cardinal,
Mills, Rev. A.,
Miley, John,
Maryatt, Florence,
O'Connor, Joseph,
O'Connor, Rev. C.,
Oliver, Letitia,
O'Callaghan, Eugene B.,

We again ask for additional information in this important
undertaking on behalf of the Catholic authors. Communications
on this subject should be written only on one side of the paper.
The obvious advantages of this work for publishers as well as
readers should induce them to give for our use whatever data
they can furnish. M. C. M.

Paley, Frederick,

Payne, John Howard,

Palmer, Rev. Raymond,

Pasolini, Count,

Parr, Mrs. Harriet,

Putnam, Father,

Pratt. Mrs.,

Pope, Rev. T. A.,

Penny, W. C.,

Raynal, Dom,

Rollin, A>be,

Ryan, Miss (Alice Esmonde),

Reumont, A. von,

Shaff, M.,

Silvestre, J. B.,

Siewidy, Sieur,

Shortland, Rev. Canon,

Skidmore, Harriet,

Smith, Mrs. M.,

Storer, Dr. F. H.,

Stapf, Dr. O. P.,

Sedgwick, Miss C. M.,

Sullivan, M. (of Toronto),

Sing, Mgr.,

Shirley, James,

Shepherd, Rev. F., O.S.B.,

Strickland, Rev. W.,

Sullivan, W. K.,

Scully, D.,

Shaw, T. H.,

Scanlon, J. F.,

Turnbull, A.,

Tierney, Rev. M.,

Vain, Madame,

Van Buren, Dr.,

Vasari, George,

Von Seeburg, Franz,

Walsh, James,

Woods, James,

Whittaker, Mrs. M. S.,

Windele, I.,

Wilberforce, R.,

Ximenes, Cardinal.

1892.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 629

WITH THE PUBLISHER.

DECEMBER'S mail brought THE CATHOLIC WORLD abundant
testimonies of the appreciation in which the magazine is held
by our subscribers. At no time since the present Publisher has
assumed the management has there been an outpouring of
generous, hearty approval and congratulation as during the past
month ; at no time was it more grateful. For the experience of
the month preceding led the Publisher to believe that there
would be a gradual falling off in the little notes of suggestion,
approval, and good wishes which he, had learned to look for, and
which have come to establish something of a more personal in-
terest and acquaintance than usually exists between the subscri-
ber and the publisher.

This intimacy has grown with this department of the maga-
zine. The evidence from the very beginning made it clear that
some such medium of communication between the managers and
the individual subscriber was needed, especially in a magazine of
this character, where editors and managers and subscribers are
joint partner^ in the cause of the spread of Truth by means
of printer's ink, and where all are equally concerned in its suc-
cess. Through these pages we have been brought in touch with
each other, and as a result have already garnered much good
fruit that will, under God, be blessed with steady increment. It
is a great deal for the various managers of our publication to
know that our work is regarded in the light of a missionary and
not a merely commercial enterprise ; and we know it is much to
our subscribers to feel that through their support they are par-
takers in the fruits of this missionary work, and are made con-
scious of the opportunities for zeal which the Press presents in
the cause of Truth especially in this great country. The eager
response made to the invitation to be present at the coming
Convention of the Apostolate of the Press is convincing evidence
of how thoroughly these opportunities are appreciated. It gives
us pleasure to note that the Convention has every augury of
success ; its fruit will be not only a deeper consciousness of the
truth that in many ways no agency can be so powerfully in-

630 WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Jan.,

voked to serve the Truth, but will cause as well an awakening
of new fires of zeal in every endeavor in which the agency of
the press can be employed.

The Publisher trusts that the evidences of the cordial spirit
that exists between THE CATHOLIC WORLD and its readers will
continue and become more general than ever. It is not very
much to send a few words of greeting or suggestion when re-
newing your subscription. For the Publisher would like to feel
that there was something more personal and friendly in his con-
tact with the subscriber than mere business, and his past expe-
rience has taught him the value of these brief notes, especially
when they contain some practical suggestions. He is indebted
for much of the present features of the magazine to hints fur-
nished by subscribers, the adoption of which seems, as far as he
can gather, to have met general approval. His only regret is
that he cannot make the time to reply personally to these notes.
He has indeed endeavored to do so where possible, but trusts
his readers will not take it amiss if such letters cannot always be
answered.

There is a matter the Publisher would like to call to the at-
tention of his readers generally, and that is the desirability of
promptness in settling the regular subscription bills. He, of
course, appreciates the fact that in the stress of larger concerns
the amount of the bill is so small as to escape attention ; but
at the same time he would suggest that in the end it would be
as much of a convenience to the subscriber as to the Publisher
if the remittance could be forwarded on receipt of the bill.
Another matter of great convenience would be the prompt noti-
fication by a postal card of any change of address. From the
neglect of such notification it not infrequently happens that the
magazine is lost, or at best reaches the subscriber after a very
roundabout journey. A little care in the matter would make it
far more convenient for both the subscriber and the mailing
clerks at this office.

The Catholic Publication Society Co. has just published :
A Brief Text-book of Logic and Mental Philosophy. By

Rev. C. A. Coppens, S.J.
Peter ; or, The Power of a Good Education. By Dom

Bosco. Translated by Lady Martin.

1892.] WITH THE PUBLISHED. 631

Ireland and St. Patrick. A Study of the Saint's Character
and of the Results of his Apostolate. By the Rev. W.
B. Morris, of the Oratory.

The Primer ; or, Office of the B. V. M. and Office for
the Dead, in English, as used by the Sisters of Mercy at
Pittsburgh.

Also a Brochure on Columbus, by John A. Mooney.

The same company announces :

Aquinas Ethicus ; or, The Moral Teaching of St. Thomas.
A translation of the principal portions of the second
part of the " Summa Theologica," with notes. By Rev.
Joseph Rickaby, S.J.

The Spirit of St. Ignatius, Founder of the Society of
Jesus. Translated from the French of Rev. Fr. Xavier
de Franciosi, of the same Society.

Succat ; or, Sixty Years of the Life of St. Patrick. By
Very Rev. Mgr. Gradwell.

My Zouave. By Mrs. Bartle Teeling, author of " Roman
Violets," etc.

632 BOOKS RECEIVED. [Jan., 1892.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

ESSAYS, CHIEFLY LITERARY AND ETHICAL. By Aubrey de Vere, LL.D.
London and New York : Macmillan & Co.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF THE RELIGIOUS LIFE. By O., SJ. Translated by
the Very Rev. Boniface F. Verheyen, O.S.B. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago:
Benziger Bros.

HEART TO HEART. By the author of " The Old, Old Story." London : Wil-
liam Macintosh.

MEDITATIONS ON THE PRINCIPAL TRUTHS OF RELIGION. By the Most Rev.
Dr. Kirby, Archbishop of Ephesus. Dublin : M. H. Gill & Son.

A PRACTICAL HEBREW GRAMMAR. By Edward Cone Bissell. Hartford Theo-
logical Seminary.

THE NEW YORK OBELISK. By Charles E. Moldenke, A.M., Ph.D. New York :
Randolph & Co.

ENGLISH SOCIAL MOVEMENTS. By Robert Archey Woods. New York : Charles
Scribner's Sons.

BIRTHDAY SOUVENIR. By Mrs. A. E. Buchanan. New York, Cincinnati, Chi-
cago : Benziger Bros.

THE CORRECT THING FOR CATHOLICS. By Lelia Hardin Bugg. New York,
Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

ALTAR BOY'S MANUAL. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

THE SUPREME PASSIONS OF MAN. By Paul Paguin. Battle Creek, Mich. :
Blue Book Co.

PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.

THE PARENT FIRST : An Answer to Dr. Bouquillon's Query, " Education : To
Whom Does It Belong ? " By the Rev. R. I. Holaind, SJ. New York, Cin-
cinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

REPORT OF THE GENERAL CONFERENCE OF THE YOUNG MEN'S SOCIETIES OF
GREAT BRITAIN. Liverpool : 32 Manchester Street.

THE SACRED HEART ALMANAC, 1892. Philadelphia: Office of the Messenger
of the Sacred Heart.

PROFESSIONAL BIOGRAPHY OF MONCURE ROBINSON. Philadelphia: J. B.
Lippincott Co.

ELEVENTH ANNUAL REPORT OF ST. MARY'S LODGING-HOUSE. New York :
Martin B. Brown.

BOOKS AS COMPANIONS. A Lecture by the Rev. S. B. Hedges. Delivered be-
fore the Catholic Club of Evansville. Evansville : Published by the Catholic
Central Club.

HENRY EDWARD CARDINAL MANNING.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD

VOL. LIV. FEBRUARY, 1892. No. 323.

CARDINAL MANNING.

IT was in Rome, at the Church of St. Isidore, on the feast
of St. Patrick, 1870, that the present writer then a Protestant
first had the privilege of hearing Cardinal Manning. High Mass
had been sung by an Australian prelate of Irish birth ; and with-
in the walls of the venerable Franciscan Church was gathered
together as brilliant and distinguished an audience as Rome,
even in that memorable council year, could supply. Bishops
from every English-speaking country were mingled with Roman
monsignori, with representative laymen from America, from Eng-
land and her colonies, and with children of Erin from every
quarter of the globe, many of whom had not seen their native
land for years and some of whom would never see it again.
And now a slender, ascetic, dignified-looking prelate is seen in
the pulpit, and Archbishop Manning for he was not created
cardinal until five years afterwards commences his panegyric
on Ireland's national saint. Later on he paints, to borrow the
description of one who was present, the glories of the early Irish
Church, with its doctors, confessors, and virgins, sending out her
children to foreign lands that they might spread the faith. He
tells of Columba, of Germanus, of Bridget, and a host of other
saints. Then he passes on to describe the sorrows and sufferings
through which Ireland has passed. "A painful task for an Eng-
lishman," he says, " to recall the days of persecution and to
speak of the fidelity unto blood with which the Irish race clung
to the faith of Patrick and the Rock of Peter." But before he
had concluded this portion of his sermon he had brought home
to more than one English heart among his listeners the lesson
of the necessity of reparation to Ireland for the injustice of the
past entering into the life of Englishmen as part of their most

634 CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

binding duty. Then he proceeded to speak of Ireland's future ;
of her share in the work of the great Vatican Council then as-
sembled. It was his belief, he said, that Irish-born prelates were
destined to bear a memorable part in the results of that council.
It had been a feature of the Catholic Church in Ireland in the
past that it had at all times kept itself free and independent of
all existing dynasties or political parties. The same indepen-
dence existed now wherever bishops of Irish origin ruled their
flocks. " There have been rumors," he continued, " of what the
civil powers of the world would do here and there, should the
bishops who are their subjects decree this or refuse to affirm
that. Pressure is being put upon some to absent themselves, up-
on others to abstain from voting. But I have no fear of such
menaces for the children of St. Patrick, for I know that through-
out the world they have made up their minds not to let any
human hand touch what concerns the Church of God."

You have been good enough to ask me to put on paper
some recollections of His Eminence, and it appears to me that
the words spoken on that occasion strike the keynote, as it were,
of the melody with which the eventful life of the great cardinal
resounds.

An intense love of Holy Church, a desire for its liberty and
exaltation ; a warm love of Ireland and her people ; these are the
two strains which predominate. But ever blended with these there
is a third, which harmonizes with and completes the others a love
of the poor, especially the poor children of his own flock. " I
shall never attempt the building of a cathedral," said the cardi-
nal on more than one occasion, when urged to commence the
erection of a metropolitan church. " Let my cathedral be the
hearts of the Irish poor. If I succeed in providing sufficient
schools and means of Christian education for every poor child
in my diocese before I die, I shall die content." The cardinal
knew that the future of the church in this country, and the best
guarantee of its independence and prosperity, depends, under
God, on the preservation of the truth by the children of those
Irish immigrants who form so important a portion of the popu-
lation of our large cities.

But before touching on the work which the cardinal had
done in the matter of education, it may be well to glance at the
influence he has exercised in infusing a thoroughly Roman spirit
into the hearts and minds of his flock. For in order to feel
keenly about the liberty and prosperity of the church, it is
necessary to " think with Rome " in all she counsels and advises.

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 635

And if Ireland, in the person of Cardinal Cullen, had the honor
of drafting the definition of the Infallibility of the Sovereign
Pontiff, England may at least claim the honor as Louis Veuil-
lot used to point out of boasting of one of the foremost cham-
pions of that dogma in the person of Cardinal Manning. His
influence on the prelates assembled in Rome that year can
scarcely be exaggerated ; but great as it was, it is as nothing
compared with the influence his sermons and writings have
had and have. What countless multitudes of souls have not
his True Story of the Vatican Council and his Infallibility of
the Pope enlightened and strengthened on this essential dogma
of the faith !

Next to this, in his work for the liberty of the church, must
be placed his efforts in favor of the temporal power of the Pope ;
of its maintenance while it existed, of its restoration, in a manner
sufficient to insure the perfect independence of the Vicar of Christ,
since its destruction. The movement which resulted in the forma-
tion of the small volunteer army of Pius IX., which maintained
peace and order in Rome from 1866 to 1870, had no warmer sym-
pathizer than Archbishop Manning ; and when that army was dis-
banded and the Papal Zouaves had to return to their respective
countries, no one again gave them more encouragement in their
efforts to continue working for the same sacred cause. The
League of St. Sebastian, which was founded by English and
Irish soldiers of the Pope, received special marks of favor from
the cardinal. He assisted more than once at its annual meetings,
and when, after the death of Pius IX., it seemed advisable
that the League should remain quiescent, he took its work, so to
say, upon his own shoulders, and by constant and stirring allu-
sions to the spoliation of the Holy See he has kept the ques-
tion of the temporal rights of the Pope ever before the minds
of the English public. I well remember a sermon he preached
on this subject on Easter Sunday, 1877, and a brief extract from
it may not come amiss, for those who taunt Leo XIII. with be-
ing a " voluntary " prisoner in the Vatican have not yet been
silenced.

"Let us suppose," said his Eminence, "and I will not put a
name nor a nation to make the supposition more offensive let
us suppose that any conquering power by violence had estab-
lished itself in London, and had made its headquarters at the
ancient palace of St. James's; and that it permitted the use of
Windsor and Buckingham Palace to our own gracious sovereign ;
and that it told all the world that the Queen of England was
VOL. LIV. 41

636 CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

free, and that she might freely come out as before and pass to
and fro from Buckingham Palace to Windsor ; that is to say,
sanctioning by her presence the usurpation of those who had
taken possession of her rights. No ; the Pope knows too well
the duty of the Vicar of Christ. His act perpetually says : * I
will not look upon the deed. My eyes shall never sanction it
by gazing upon it. I will rather live and die within the thresh-
old of my palace than set foot in Rome again.' The Pope is
not bound, indeed, with fetters of iron, but he is bound round
about by the sense of his own dignity, and the supernatural
office that he bears ; and he knows that it would be a deep
moral degradation to put his foot over the threshold of his
palace so long as another sovereignty claims to rule over the
city which the providence of God has made his own."

Arguments such as these will not lose their weight because
the tongue which uttered them is now silent. The cardinal's
Temporal Power of the Pope is a text-book on this question, and
the time will come when the civilized world will feel constrained
to do justice, and, recognizing the demands made by such men
as Cardinal Manning as irrefutable, will restore to the Pope his
freedom and independence.

Next to his defence of the spiritual and temporal preroga-
tives of the Holy See must be noted the cardinal's care for the
training and education of his clergy. To imbue them with a
thoroughly Roman spirit was his first object. And if, at the
close of the Vatican Council, the decrees were received with so
much respectful enthusiasm by the Catholics of England, it is to
Cardinal Manning and to his predecessor, Cardinal Wiseman, that
it is in great measure due. Having spent three years in Rome
after his conversion, Cardinal Manning thoroughly appreciated
the salutary influence which a residence in the centre of Chris-
tendom has upon a Catholic mind. At his instance the Oblates of
St. Charles had a house of studies there up to the time of the
Piedmontese invasion ; and in his intercourse with his clergy at
home he constantly strove to inspire them with sentiments of
personal affection towards the reigning Pontiff. He himself, dur-
ing the last five-and-twenty years of the life of Pius IX., had the
happiness of being admitted to an intimacy with that grand
Pope which, with great humility, he used to speak of as having
no excuse but the paternal kindness of the Pontiff. During that
period Pius IX. used to admit him to frequent audiences. Every
step he took throughout those years was taken with the Pope's
sanction and advice. He was granted a freedom of speech, and

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 637

received from the Pope a paternal love, which made the rela-
tions between them intimate and filial in no common measure.
Events, both public and private, continually increased the close-
ness of this relation ; and it was his privilege to assist and con-
sole the dying Pontiff during the last days of his life. The part
Cardinal Manning took in the election of the present glorious
Pontiff, and in the proceedings of the conclave, were the sub-
ject of some " persistent and ridiculous attempts made to misre-
present " him as the address of the laity which greeted him on
his return home well said. These misrepresentations have long
since been forgotten. It may be well, however, to place once more
on record what he said himself in reply to the address we have
alluded to. That no proposition of his, made at the conclave,
was even so much as contested by his colleagues, and that he
always had the happiness of being united to the majority, in fact
the all but unanimity, of the Sacred College.

It is not within the purpose of this article to trace out in de-
tail the various ways in which Cardinal Manning elevated and
" Romanized " the tone of his clergy. His great instrument
was, of course, his Diocesan Seminary at Hammersmith, the foun-
dation stone of which he laid in July, 1876; and which, with its
spacious chapel, will ever be one of the chief monuments of his
episcopacy. But a word must be said on two points : . his foster-
ing care of church music and his relations with the religious
orders.

And first as to church music. The great reform effected by
the cardinal more than fifteen years ago, in banishing female
singers from the choirs throughout his diocese except in some
few rural districts met at first with some unseemly criticism.
The ladies, who had accustomed themselves to look upon their
solo performances as almost the most important part of the di-
vine service, were naturally enough, perhaps, irritated at being
relegated to their proper place, the body of the church, while
the clergy, many of whom had for long been complaining of the
trouble caused them by the fair musicians, seemed now to con-
sider any known evils preferable to launching out in quest of
boys to fill up their places. In London the cardinal's edict has
been strictly carried out ; patience and perseverance have been
amply rewarded, and there is scarcely a person now who would
wish to see the bonnets and hats of the " ladies of the choir "
reappearing in the galleries of Farm Street church or the pro-
cathedral. Some years later the cardinal issued a circular letter
to his clergy respecting the kind of music to be sung at Mass

638 CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

and Benediction. Solo-singing at the latter function had already
been condemned by the Fourth Provincial Council of Westmin-
ster. " It merits," said the decree, " the utmost reprobation, and
must be banished as a grave scandal "; and the cardinal, fortified
by the advice of Cardinal Bartolini, urged the clergy to see that
the music was, as a rule, grave and sweet, easy of execution,
and to avoid any compositions which tended to distract the
mind or divert the attention. While not enforcing the plain
chant, except at Masses of Requiem, he encouraged it by every
means in his power ; and although he has not met with the sue
cess which the Archbishop of Dublin has secured in reforming
the character of our church music as much as could be desired,
there has nevertheless been a vast improvement in it during his
tenure of office.

A far more delicate question is that of the relations of Cardi-
nal Manning toward the religious orders. Enthusiastic and in-
discreet partisans of this or that order not unfrequently pious
ladies from time to time declaimed against the cardinal as hav-
ing a dislike or jealousy of the religious orders. And this idea
seems to have gone abroad, and to be believed in quarters where
one would have thought it incredible that such an impression
could have been entertained. Some ten years ago, when reports
of this kind were more rife than they have been of late, his
Eminence, in a conversation with the present writer, spoke of
the pain they gave him. " I love and reverence the religious
orders," he said on one occasion, " especially the great Society
of Jesus, by one of whose members I was received into the
church. But, as chief pastor of my diocese, I am obliged to
consider the interests of others as well as theirs ; and I cannot
allow rights which were conferred on other bodies by my prede-
cessor to be overridden." This was in allusion to a very
groundless rumor that the cardinal had forbidden the Jesuits to
open a school in his diocese. And his Eminence went on to
say that he would have been pleased to see them open a school,
and had pointed out one or two sites to their superiors as suita-
ble for the purpose ; but that he could not agree to their start-
ing a school in one particular part of London, which he men-
tioned, and where some of their wealthy supporters desired it t<
be, because it was within the district worked by another coi
munity of priests, who had had a promise from Cardinal Wise-
man that no religious order should settle within a certain
tance. Another rumor, which at that time was equally groum
less, was that the cardinal had forbidden certain members of th<

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 639

Society of Jesus to preach in his diocese. One of the priests
alluded to actually preached at Farm Street on the feast of the
Immaculate Conception a year or two later ; yet for several
years afterwards it was no uncommon thing to meet with per-
sons who were ready to aver that the priest in question had
never preached in London since he became a Jesuit. More than
once, in order to show his kindly feeling toward the society,
did the cardinal, when far from well, make exceptional efforts
to assist at the High Mass on the feast of St. Ignatius ; and
those who attended the meetings of the Catholic Academia will
remember how he used invariably to single out any Jesuit father
there present, and ask him for his opinion on any disputed
point. It is true that the cardinal made no secret of his opinion
that, under present circumstances in England, the life of a secu-
lar priest was a harder and more laborious, and possibly in a
certain sense more meritorious, one than the life of a religious ;
and that, knowing the great difficulty he had in providing
enough priests for his missions, he was loath to see any of them
join a religious order unless their vocation seemed a very decid-
ed one. But it can be asserted with truth, and time will verify
the assertion, that no bishop has ever held the reins of govern-
ment, as regards seculars and religious, with a more impartial
hand than has Cardinal Manning.

But it is time to pass on to the consideration of the great
work of his episcopate that of providing a Catholic education
for the poor children of his diocese. He was consecrated arch-
bishop on June 8, 1865. In his first pastoral he briefly alluded
to the necessity of building new schools, and followed this up a
week later by another pastoral in which he disclosed the object
which was nearest his heart. " Now we ask you," he wrote,
" to do a work with us and for us, for the love of the Sacred
Heart. It is to help us in gathering from the streets of this
great wilderness of men the tens of thousands of poor Catholic
children who are without instruction or training. It is our
first appeal to you, but it wiH not be our last. Year by year
we hope to labor for this end, and year by year to remind you
of your share in this work of love." Most faithfully has his
Eminence kept his word. The Westminster Diocesan Education
Fund was started before long, and for the last twenty years an
annual public meeting has been held in London, the cardinal
presiding, at which the claims of the children of the poor to a
Christian education have been urged by him on the attention
both of the government of the day and of Catholics with a per-

640 CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

sistency and an eloquence which have met with fitting reward.
Twenty years ago the number of children in Catholic schools in
London was 11,000. At the present moment there are 23,000
in Catholic parochial schools, and 2,950 in Catholic poor-law,
industrial, reformatory schools or orphanages. So that while
the Catholic population of London has very slightly increased,
the number of children brought under instruction has more
than doubled. This may, no doubt, appear but slow progress to
American Catholics, who are accustomed to see scholars increas-
ing by thousands or tens of thousands every decade, but the
figures are simply amazing to those who know the difficulties
with which the managers of Catholic schools in London have to
contend. The School-Board system, brought into being by act
of Parliament in 1870, introduced two changes, fraught with in-
evitable consequences, as the cardinal often pointed out, in the
tradition of Christian education, recognized up to that time by
the people of England : the one by which the system of school-
rates and board schools was thereby established, professedly as a
supplement to the existing system of national education ; the
other by which religious instruction was excluded from the
teaching during the compulsory hours of attendance that is,
practically from the daily work of the school. And the cardinal
foresaw that there was the danger of what was meant to be the
supplement becoming the system ; and the system becoming the
supplement, and the traditional religious education of the coun-
try thus becoming a thing of the past. Against this he has
striven with almost superhuman energy, not only by his vigor-
ous maintenance of the number as well as the efficiency of the
Catholic schools, but by seizing every opportunity of enforcing
upon his countrymen the vital necessity of a Christian education.
Of his work on the Royal Commission of Education during
these more recent years it is not the moment yet to speak. But
friend and foe have alike borne testimony to the master-mind
which inspired in great measure the report which was issued by
the majority of the commission in** the summer of 1888. It will
not, however, be until the subject of education is taken up
again by Parliament as one of the burning questions of the day
that we Catholics shall understand and appreciate all that our
great cardinal has done for us in this all-important matter.

And now what shall be said about Cardinal Manning and
Ireland ? Let Ireland and the cardinal speak for themselves.
On his return from Rome, after his elevation to the sacred pur-
ple in April, 1875, an address was presented to him signed by

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 641

some forty-eight Irish Catholic members of Parliament, a portion
of which ran as follows :

" In the heartfelt congratulations which hail your arrival in
England as Prince of the Church, we, the undersigned Catholics
representing Irish constituencies in the House of Commons, de-
sire most cordially to join, and to assure your Eminence that
none, even of your own spiritual subjects, entertain towards you
stronger feelings of respect and veneration than we do. Placed
as we are, by the circumstances of our position, in your diocese
during a considerable portion of each year, we feel that we
should not allow this opportunity to pass without expressing our
appreciation of the deep interest you have always evinced in the
welfare, both spiritual and temporal, of our countrymen."

In the course of his reply to this outburst of affection and
respect from those who spoke in Ireland's name the cardinal,
who was deeply touched, said that' from his youth, ever since he
had understood the history of Ireland, he had had for that coun-
try the strongest sympathy, which had greatly increased since he
had had a flock of Irish blood and Irish faith. Speaking a little
later, at Preston, he said :

" I love Catholic Ireland from my heart as a Catholic ; I bear
as true a love to Ireland as a man can bear that is not one of
her children. If I were to say an equal love with those who
were born of Irish blood, some of you would say that is not
possible, and as I wish to speak the simple truth, I will guard
against saying anything that any of you could think too much.
But I love Ireland because Ireland has suffered for the faith. I
cannot love England, my mother country, for that reason, for
unhappily England persecuted the church ; and therefore I have
another motive which makes my love of Ireland, in one sense,
even more tender than it can be towards the whole of my
mother country."

Two years before, in September, 1873, writing to the Arch-
bishop of Armagh on the bitter disappointment he had expe-
rienced at being unable to fulfil his engagement of preaching at
the consecration of Armagh cathedral, Cardinal Manning used
these words :

" I have witnessed with a mixture of sorrow and indignation
the writings of those who . . . are trying to turn men away
from doing what is just to Ireland by grandiloquent phrases
about the imperial race and an imperial policy. An imperial
policy in the mouths of doctrinaires means a legislation which
ignores the special character and legitimate demands of races and
localities, and subjects them to the coercion of laws at variance

642 CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

with their most sacred instincts. . . . Imperial policy means
and may be defined as * legislation to hamper and harass the
Catholic Church in Ireland.' Such imperial legislation would be
intensely English for England, Scotch for Scotland, but imperial
and anti-Irish for Ireland. Imperial legislation means using im-
perial power to force Ireland into subjection to the religious views
of England. The rise of an empire is no cause of joy to men
who love their country. It is the sign of loss of true liberty.
. . . I cannot say that I have much fear of [the success of]
an imperial policy in Great Britain and Ireland. My chief reason
for confidence is that the people of these three kingdoms will
not have it so. They mean to manage their own affairs with a
great extension, rather than a hair's-breadth diminution in the
freedom of local self-government. ... I think your Grace
will be able to add your testimony as to the people of Ireland.
They have, least of all, any desire to meddle with the political
or religious affairs of their neighbors, and they have no intention
that any neighbors whatsoever should meddle with theirs. In
this temper of mind I see the surest guarantee of our future
peace."

Such was Cardinal Manning's testimony to the pacific charac-
ter of the Home-Rule movement. Twelve years later, when the
more influential portion of the English laity of his flock had as-
sumed an attitude of bitter hostility towards the claims put for-
ward by the representatives of Ireland, and were denouncing in
no measured language all who ventured to say a word in favor
of Mr. Gladstone's Home-Rule bill, the cardinal availed himself
of an opportunity made for him by a correspondent and caused
a letter to be written stating that he agreed with its aim,
though he thought it needed extensive revision. Later on again,
in June, 1887, in reply to a coarse attack in the Times on Arch-
bishop Walsh and himself, he wrote as follows :

" I gladly unite myself with the Archbishop of Dublin. He
is but slightly known in England, except in the descriptions of
those who are fanning the flames of animosity between England
and Ireland. . . . We are neither intriguers nor separatists.
. . . Your words touch our highest responsibility, and inflame
more and more the heated contentions between two peoples
whom justice and truth would still bind in peace and unity."

These are but a few specimens of the way in which Cardinal
Manning labored to show sympathy with Ireland. But his
work in this respect was continuous and life-long. Volumes
could be filled with similar extracts out of his speeches, sermons,
and writings. And what he did in private in the same direction
no one can measure. It was his joy to be supported by Irish
members on the platform whenever he advocated the cause qf

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 643

education, of temperance, or of charity ; and they in return
readily seized every occasion of doing him honor. Who shall
continue his work : a work so noble, so unselfish, and so neces-
sary for the future of the church in England ? It is not easy
to see. God will provide. And if we are tempted to despond
at the thought that men of his large-heartedness and broad sym-
pathy are rare, consolation may come from the thought that
Cardinal Manning's work is in great measure accomplished. In
a letter addressed by his Eminence a short time back to a
prominent ecclesiastic in the United States, on the dignity and
rights of labor, there was a passage in which, if my memory
does not fail me, the eminent writer speaks of the difference be-
tween the way in which the world was governed of old and the
way in which it will be ruled in future. Hitherto, he said, the
world has been governed by dynasties ; henceforth the church
will have to deal with the people. And if this is true, it is true
also that the peoples of each country will have to deal with
each other. It is the rulers who, in the past, have created en-
mities between England and Ireland. Frank and frequent inter-
course between the peoples will obliterate them. " I can recol-
lect the day," said Mr. John Dillon, M.P., " when the name of
England, and even of Englishmen, were hateful to my heart.
That feeling is dying away, and I can hardly find any trace
of it left in me. I cannot even find it in my heart to regret
that this feeling of hatred is passing away." And how has this
come about ? Mr. Dillon tells us. " It is because it is impossi-
ble," he said, " to close my eyes to the mighty change which has
come over the minds of the masses of the people of England
as regards Ireland." And if the people of England are becom-
ing ashamed of the past, and are filled with a resolve to repair
it, and to atone to Ireland for centuries of injustice, posterity
will point out as one of the chief authors of this happy change
the man who espoused the side of Ireland in the dark days
when racial hatred was rampant, and remained true to it
throughout his long life the great Cardinal of Westminster,
Henry Edward Manning.

JOHN G. KENYON.

Dor tt t Square, London.

644 THE ATTITUDE OF THE EDUCATED PROTESTANT [Feb.,

THE ATTITUDE OF THE EDUCATED PROTESTANT
MIND TOWARD CATHOLIC TRUTH.*

THE conclusions hereinafter stated are based in part upon
the following items of personal experience :

My youth and early manhood were spent entirely among
Protestants. All my adult relatives and nearly all my neigh-
bors were members of the Methodist, Baptist, Congregational,
or Episcopal churches. They were a devout, prayerful people,
diligent in searching the Scriptures and in teaching its pre-
cepts to their children, rigorous in their adherence to the
standards of Christian morality, earnest in every good word and
work. A few of them still survive. Those .who have died de-
parted this life in joyful submission to the will of God, and
looking for salvation through the merits of their Lord and
Saviour, Jesus Christ. Since I became a Catholic (now nearly
thirty years ago) I have lived in constant and intimate associa-
tion with non-Catholic authors, teachers, clergymen, and lawyers:
the men who form the public opinion of the day on social,
ethical, and religious questions, and indirectly on political ques-
tions also. Many of these are active members of the Protes-
tant churches ; a large proportion of the rest are religiously dis-
posed in will, if not in intellect and profession, submitting
themselves to the guidance of Christian law and doctrine. Of
most of them I do not hesitate to say that they are sincere,
upright, and conscientious men, who, so far as they perceive and
comprehend it, are loyal to the truth and ready to make what-
ever personal sacrifice such loyalty may entail. Of the Catholic
Church they know comparatively nothing. Her external history,
as an organized society, they perhaps to some extent discern,
but of her inner life, her doctrinal teachings, her moral rule
and discipline, they have as yet not even a remote conception.
Their antagonism to her, as a church, is negative rather than
positive, resulting from that false idea of her purposes and
methods which was transmitted to them by their ancestors, but
which they ever show themselves ready to abandon when its
falsehood is discovered. Their personal attitude toward those

* Read at the Convention of the Apostolate of the Press.

1892.] MIND TOWARD CATHOLIC TRUTH. . 645

Catholics who are true to their religion, whatever be their race
or social standing, is almost always generous and friendly.

I. Confining that which follows to the class of persons thus
described, I maintain, in the first place, that what they need
from us is knowledge and not argument.

Divine truth bears such a relation to the human soul, illu-
minated by the light which lighteth every man that is born
into the world, that whenever the truth is clearly perceived the
soul inclines toward it, and unless hindered by a perverse will
accepts and believes it. As the body does not reject the food
created for and adapted to its sustenance by the providence of
God ; as the mind does not refuse the knowledge of exterior
facts communicated to it by the organs of sensation ; so neither
does the soul of any man of good will repudiate a divine truth
which it has once fully apprehended. To persons thus disposed
the exact and intelligible statement of a truth is in itself a
demonstration. Proof of its divine origin, or of the divine
authority of its proclaimer, is not indispensable to its accep-
tance. The truth affirms itself to the soul as light does to the
eye, or music to the ear. So far as argument tends to explain
the truth it is merely another form of statement, and may be
serviceable ; but when it passes beyond this and becomes an
effort to compel conviction, however sound and impregnable it
may be in itself, it rouses an antagonism in the will which is
inconsistent with clear spiritual vision, and creates side issues by
which the truth presented is often hopelessly obscured. Every
one who has engaged in, or has witnessed, religious controversy
must have been painfully impressed with its futility, if not with
the actual hindrances it presents to the reception of the truth.
And, on the other hand, no one who has observed the instant,
spontaneous adhesion of the candid mind to truth clearly and
completely stated, can doubt by what method assent to it is
most readily obtained. To illustrate my position, I may be
pardoned for narrating an incident which occurred within my
own experience. Some twenty years ago a devout old Metho-
dist woman, expostulating with me on account of my belief in
various articles of Catholic faith, made her last and strongest at-
tack upon the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the
Blessed Virgin. " No reasonable man, above all no Christian
man," said she, " could believe such idolatrous nonsense as that."
" What do you mean by the Immaculate Conception ? " said I.

646 THE ATTITUDE OF THE EDUCATED PROTESTANT [Feb.,

To which she gave an answer ludicrous enough to Catholic ears,
but which would probably be the reply of nearly every Protes-
tant in the world. " Listen a moment/' said I, when she had
finished ; and I then explained to her, as simply as I could,
what the church teaches on the subject. As I went on the as-
pect of her face changed, her eyes filled with tears lifted
themselves toward heaven, and as I stopped she said, speak-
ing to herself rather than to me, " How could it be otherwise ? "
" How could it be otherwise ? " Numerous instances, similar to
this, lie along the path of every intelligent Catholic who comes
intimately into contact with the earnest, conscientious multitudes
around us, and forces upon his mind the conviction that their
great need is light and knowledge, and that the duty of the
church toward them in their present condition is to place before
them a correct and complete statement of her doctrines, in lan-
guage so simple and intelligible that they cannot fail to under-
stand. The day is passed when attacks on so-called " Protes-
tant errors " can serve any useful purpose. It is time to recog-
nize, practically as well as theoretically, that the honest adhesion
of the human soul to error is a manifestation of its disposition
to adhere to the truth, and that the error is " never accepted
for its own sake, but because it is fortuitously associated with
an apprehended truth." Earnestness in seeking, fidelity in pro-
fessing, zeal in promulgating any religious doctrine are thus the
strongest possible evidences of that good-will toward the truth
which renders its acceptance inevitable when once it is per- .
ceived ; and of these evidences the Protestant world is full to
overflowing. To define the truth which they already possess, to
extricate it from the errors by which it is obscured, to add to
it those other truths which at once interpret and complete their
doctrinal systems, and thus present to them divine truth whole
and entire, as God has revealed it for the illumination of the
human soul, for the solution of all its doubts, for the inspiration
of all its energies, and for the perfecting of its knowledge of
the Infinitely Good and Beautiful and True, this is the work
which through the pulpit or the press (but under present cir-
cumstances principally through the press) the Catholic Church
must do if it would gather in this wonderful and precious har-
vest of loyal, loving souls.

II.-I have said that what the church owes to the sincere
souls that are without is the correct and complete statement

1892.] MIND TOWARD CATHOLIC TRUTH. 647

of her doctrines in language so simple and intelligible that they
cannot fail to understand. I wish to emphasize both members
of this sentence.

Any statement of Catholic truth, to be really serviceable to
the people I describe, must be not only correct but complete.
The doctrines of religion are not isolated truths, each indepen-
dent of the others and capable of comprehension separately from
them. On the contrary, they form a system or body of truth,
in which each element is so related to the others as to be not
merely incomplete but unintelligible without them. As there is
not an organ in the human body, however concealed or insignifi-
cant, whose anatomical and physiological character can be com-
prehended without a knowledge of all the other organs and of
their co-operation with it, so does each proposition of divine
truth receive its definition and interpretation from the others
and is truly known only when they are also understood. Who,
for example, can apprehend the doctrines underlying the sacra-
ment of baptism, or the distinction between heaven and hell,
unless he has a prior acquaintance with the doctrine of original
sin, or attain this without a previous knowledge of the relations
between God and man both in nature and in grace? Here
seems to me to lie the main cause of that almost universal igno-
rance, among otherwise well-informed Protestants, concerning the
inner life, the teachings, and the discipline of the Catholic
Church. The Catholic truths with which they have already come
in contact are fragmentary, detached from their proper setting,
unexplained by their necessary antecedents, and consequently
they have neither been presented to them nor rejected by them
in their Catholic sense. Their hostility to the church, such as it
is, is based upon the misconceptions thus engendered, and in
their warfare against her they are constantly fighting " men of
straw," figments of discipline and dogma which have no exist-
ence in her creed or moral law, or anywhere else except in the
erroneous constructions they have ignorantly put upon her
words. The removal of this ignorance requires a statement of
the entire body of Catholic truth including not merely every
doctrine which is matter of faith, but also such as are of general
recognition in the church, and such propositions of philosophy
as must be present in the mind before the definitions and con-
clusions of theology can be understood. Nothing less than a
statement of this character can, in my judgment, meet the cur-
rent emergency. Numberless are the uses of sermons, tracts,

648 THE ATTITUDE OF THE EDUCATED PROTESTANT [Feb.,

magazine articles, and other forms of limited and fugitive dis-
cussion, but none of them can ever answer this purpose. Not
until the candid inquirer has within his reach, in a single vol-
ume, a succinct but nevertheless complete exposition of the truth
as taught by the Catholic Church can he be expected fully to
perceive any truth, or to yield that assent which the compre-
hension of the truth compels?

III. Moreover the statement of the truth must be so simple
and intelligible that they cannot fail to understand. A second
difficulty encountered in communicating to Protestants a know-
ledge of Catholic truth, not so important as the former but still
of serious moment, arises from their unfamiliarity with Catholic
terminology, and from the equal want of knowledge of Protestant
modes of speech on the part of Catholic writers. Two worlds
of thought more different from each other than those in which
Catholics and Protestants habitually dwell, can hardly be imagined ;
and one who has not lived in both, however skilful in the use
of language, can rarely make the conceptions of the one intelli-
gible to the other. How often does it happen that for lack of
this mutual understanding of each other, authors and teachers
appear to disagree, while to one who comprehends the true
meaning of both their convictions are evidently the same. Not
long since I was present at the reading of a paper on a Catho-
lic doctrine by a distinguished scholar of the church before a
learned society mainly composed of Protestants. The reading
was followed by a discussion, in which the positions taken in the
paper were attacked and defend.ed. But it was a conflict of
words only. The Protestant auditors gave to the terms used by
the Catholic scholar interpretations which from his point of view
they did not* bear, and thus were led to dispute propositions
which had they understood them in his sense they would have
willingly endorsed. This difficulty must be overcome in any
statement of Catholic truth for the information of Protestants or
the statement itself may prove worse than useless. They cannot
be expected to recognize this danger in advance and prepare
themselves for the reading of our literature by a study of our
peculiar vocabulary. Catholic teachers and writers must use
words in the Protestant sense, and must learn to announce Catho-
lic truths in terms which convey the exact conception of such
truths to Protestant minds, or all efforts in the direction of their
enlightenment will be in vain. In the statement of Catholic

1892.] MIND TOWARD CATHOLIC TRUTH. 649

truth, whose desirability I have discussed, such an adaptation of
language to the requirements of the reader would be supremely
necessary. Every idea, however fundamental and however gen-
erally entertained, should be so expressed that its precise char-
acter and scope can never thereafter be in question. The mem-
bers of every proposition, and also the proposition as a whole,
should be incapable of a double meaning, and bear only that inter-
pretation which the Protestant reader will naturally place upon its
words. Each proposition should lead up to its successor according
to the Protestant order of thought, so different in many respects
from the Catholic one, and should leave behind it no proper interro-
gatory of the soul unanswered, no legitimate doubt unsolved. The
preparation for a work like this involves a vast amount of labor ;
the work itself has perhaps no parallel in the past. But when
did ever such a harvest await the reaper ? When was there ever
a people who needed Catholic truth so much. When was there
ever a people whom the Catholic Church so much needed ? For
the conversion of Anglo-Saxon Protestants is the conversion of

the world.

IV. Such a statement of Catholic truth as I have described
should be the utterance of the church herself and not of any
private individual. No man can judge of his own qualifications
for the task, nor were he qualified ought the tongue with which he
speaks to be one of personal authority alone. Of private views
on religious topics the Protestant mind is sick from very satiety,
and for this reason many are on every side turning away from
abstract truth to the concrete life around them, and seeking in
external works of charity that rest and salvation to which in the
interior life they find no clue. For any individual, acting on his
own authority, to place before them an outline of Catholic truth
would but add, for many of them at least, another to the jarring
voices by which their spiritual ears have been so long confused.
But when the church speaks, she will not speak in vain. If the
American hierarchy, either by a committee appointed for that
purpose or through some prelate whose piety, learning, and ec-
clesiastical eminence make him the fitting representative and
mouth-piece of his colleagues, thus proclaims the truth, it will
not go unheard or unaccepted. The eagerness with which some
publications, in this general direction, have been received already
is evidence enough of what a welcome is in store for the mes-
sage which shall unlock the doors of all the mysteries of the

650 THE ATTITUDE OF THE EDUCATED PROTESTANT [Feb.,

truth, and make the whole and entire gospel of our Lord and
Saviour intelligible to the waiting mind.

V. It may seem a descent from the dignity of my subject
to introduce here a suggestion as to the material form in which
Catholic truth should be presented to our non-Catholic brethren;
but things that are trifles in themselves are often important in
their consequences. Protestants are accustomed to buy books of
all classes, religious and secular, well-printed on good paper and
well-bound, for comparatively small sums of money. If Catholic
literature is to attract their attention, especially if it is at all to
obtain their patronage, it must possess the same attributes. The
publication of the volume, whose preparation I have advocated,
with poor type, cheap paper, and shabby binding would deprive
it of a large proportion of its value for the missionary work for
which it was designed. Even if it were distributed gratuitously
it would probably in most cases go unread, and few would seek
in its forbidding pages for the truths therein concealed. What-
ever excuse there may have been for it in the past, there is no
sufficient reason at the present day why 'Catholic books should
not vie with others of the same general class in legibility, dura-
bility, and cheapness.

VI. In closing, I desire to say a few words on the methods
by which Catholic books may be brought within the reach of
Protestants. The degree to which they are accessible to them
to-day is exceedingly limited. For twenty-five years I have lived
in one of our large university towns, having a population of over
seventy-five thousand persons, of whom at least one-third are
Catholics. It is a town full of intellectual life, with a most liberal
and friendly spirit toward the church and her members, and a
strong disposition to co-operate with her in all her works of
charity and education. But there is not now, and there never
has been, a place within its borders where Catholic books, in any
variety, could be found. In a few news-offices and similar es-
tablishments the ordinary prayer-books and a small selection of de-
votional manuals are kept, but neither on the shelves of its
bookstores nor anywhere else does Catholic literature invite in-
spection and seek its purchasers and readers. And there is no
prospect that, under present methods, it will ever do so. Small
dealers are unable, large dealers are unwilling, to carry an ex-
pensive stock which may not be readily salable, and if we are to
wait till either Protestants or Catholics become such constant and

1892.] MIND TOWARD CATHOLIC TRUTH. 651

liberal buyers of our books as to warrant these investments by local
dealers, many a day must pass before these books are much
more accessible than now. This subject has long occupied my
thoughts, but no better measure than the following has ever oc-
curred to me. The church in this country should have a pub-
lishing house of its own, established and controlled by the Ameri-
can hierarchy, which would be the equivalent in most respects of
the Methodist Book Concern, or the denominational Sunday-
school Unions. It should be under the practical direction of a
body of ecclesiastical and lay managers. It should confine its
publications to missionary books and Sunday-school material. It
should have capital enough to be able to place its publications
on sale on commission in every part of the country, and within
reach of every considerable body of readers. The amount of
good to be accomplished by this method is incalculable. I have
no doubt that if for the past twenty years there had been kept
in one of the great bookstores of my own city an assortment of
one hundred Catholic religious works, in attractive styles and at
reasonable prices, their sales would ere this have been counted
by many thousands, and the knowledge of Catholic truth among
my fellow-citizens have been correspondingly increased.

If this Convention does no other work than to set on foot an
enterprise like this, the most sanguine hopes of its reverend and
beloved promoter will eventually be more than realized.

W. C. ROBINSON.

Yale University.

VOL. LIV. 42

652 WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? [Feb.,

WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN?

IF the birthplace of Christopher Columbus has been a subject
of discussion among his biographers and of much historical re-
search, not less so has been the date of his nativity. Washing-
ton Irving, although he tells us in the early editions of his
work that " the time of his birth [Columbus's], his birthplace, his
parentage are all involved in obscurity," etc., adopts a chronolo-
gy which would make him seventy years old at the time of his
death in 1506, and in recent editions of his works he is made to
say plainly " Christopher Columbus was born . . . about the
year 1435." H. Harrisse, on the contrary, after having discussed
the knotty problem in eighteen octavo pages, comes to the follow-
ing conclusion (vol. i. page 240) : " Christophe Colomb serait done ne"
entre le 25 mars, 1446, et le mars, 1447 " i.e., Christopher Colum-
bus would, therefore, have been born between the 25th of March,
1446, and the 2Oth of March, 1447. After an exhaustive study
of the subject no doubt is left in my mind that Irving is right
and Harrisse is wrong. This is what I intend to prove in this
article. Bernaldez (called De los Palacios because he was par-
ish priest of a little town of that name), admitted by all critics
to be a reliable chronicler, in his work, Historia de los Reyes
Catolicos, tells us that " El dicho Almirante Don Cristobal Colon,
de maravillosa y honrada memoria, . . . estando en Valla-
dolid el afto de 1506 en el mes de Marzo murio in senectude
bona . . . de edad de 70 poco mas o menos " i.e.. Said
Admiral Christopher Columbus, of wonderful and honorable
memory, died in Valladolid at the good old age of seventy, more
or less, in the month of March, 1506. Bernaldez was a friend of
Columbus and entertained him more than once in his house, and
received from the admiral several of his writings, very likely as
friendship's gifts. It cannot, therefore, be supposed that he should
have made a mistake of from ten to twelve years, even suppos-
ing that he knew not his age from Columbus himself. In the
absence of any direct evidence to contradict him, he should be
accepted, it appears to me, as sufficient authority to establish
the age of the discoverer of America. If he died in 1506 sev-
enty years of age, he must have been born either at the end of
1435 or at the beginning of 1436. But Bernaldez is not the
only authority for placing the age of Columbus at seventy years

1892.] WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? 653

at the time of his death. Irving appropriately says : " Various cir-
cumstances in the life of Columbus will be found to corroborate the
statement of the curate ; such, for example, as the increasing in-
firmities with which he struggled during his voyages, and which
at last rendered him a cripple and confined him to his bed. The
allusion to his advanced age in one of his letters to the sover-
eigns, wherein he relates the consolation he had received from
a secret voice in the night season : " Tu vejez no impedira a
toda cosa grande. Abraham pasaba cien afios quando engendro
a Isaac," etc. Thy old age shall be no impediment to any great
undertaking^ Abraham was above a hundred years old when he
begat Isaac, etc. The permission granted him by the king, the
year previous to his death, to travel on a mule instead of a horse,
on account of his age and infirmities, and the assertion of
Oviedo that " at the time of his death he was quite old." Na-
varrete and Roselly de Lorgues think with Irving. If we
take in consideration that in 1439 Columbus's father was already
established in business for himself, and hired apprentices in his
establishment, to be fed and clothed in his own house, as ap-
pears from a notarial document quoted in a former article, we
must naturally, with the highest degree of probability, conclude
that he was then married, and hold as extremely improbable
that his eldest son Christopher, should have been born as late as
1446 or 1447.

Let us now see if Columbus's own writings will not give us
a clue to his, f at least approximate, age. In January, 1495, he
wrote to King Ferdinand and his wife, Isabella, as follows : " Rei-
nel (Rene"), whom God has called to himself, sent me to Tunis to
take possession of the galley La Fernandina," etc. The exploit
spoken of in this letter should necessarily have taken place, as
Harrisse properly says, between October, 1459, an d July* 1461,
when Ren, having the Genoese for allies, made war against Fer-
dinand of Aragon to obtain possession of the kingdom of Naples.
If this letter be genuine and truthful, it proves conclusively that
Columbus was not born in either 1446 or 1447 ; for then in
1459 or H^i he would have been only thirteen or fourteen
years of age ; that is, too young to be placed in charge of a dar-
ing naval expedition. On the contrary, if we admit that he was
born in 1435 or thereabout, Bernaldez's testimony and Colum-
bus's narrative would harmonize. For then the latter would
have been twenty-three or twenty-four years old ; not an im-
proper age for accomplishing the deed narrated in the letter,
especially if it is considered that he, as he tells us himself, put

654 ' WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? [Feb.,

to sea at a very tender age. No sound critic can set aside the
letter as unauthentic. It is quoted in the biography of Colum-
bus, written, Harrisse himself was forced to admit, substantially
by his son Ferdinand, and by Las Casas, who had free access to
the admiral's writings. Harrisse claims that Las Casas copied
from Ferdinand. Be it so. But can it be supposed that Ferdi-
nand, " the cosmographer, the jurist, the biographer, the learned
litterateur," should have forged in toto a letter of his father ad-
dressed to the monarchs, and which evidently should have been
preserved in the royal archives, where it could be consulted by
Peter Martyr and Oviedo, the official chroniclers and his con-
temporaries ? In the absence, therefore, of even the shadow of a
proof that Ferdinand forged the letter, the original of which is
lost, sound criticism forces us to admit that he incorporated it
in his work as written by his father's hand. The letter, then, is
genuine. If so, who will believe that in 1495, when at the
height of his glory, and when the confidence of the Spanish ru-
lers had not yet in anywise been shaken, Columbus, solely to
satisfy his vanity, should have written a palpable lie, making him-
self the hero of a naval exploit at the age of thirteen or four-
teen, and in a war which had been waged during the lifetime
of those to whom the letter was addressed ?

Harrisse flippantly sets aside the evidence drawn from Colum-
bus's writing as to his age in the following manner : " Efforts
have been made to deduce it [Columbus's age] from his own
writings. But these are vague, doubtful, or contradictory. In a
letter dated the 7th of July, 1503, Columbus says that he had
come to place himself at the service of the Catholic kings at the
age of twenty-eight. And as another letter, written in Novem-
ber, 1500, contains the declaration that he had been employed by
thei-r highnesses seventeen years which would take us back to
1483 Columbus should have been born in 1455 only. Which is
not very probable. In his diary (journal de bord) on the I4th of
January, 1493, he wrote : ' It will be seven years the 2Oth of this
month since I came to serve your highnesses.' It would, then, be
no longer in 1483 that Columbus would have entered the ser-
vice of Spain, but the 2Oth of January, 1486, and if he was
then twenty-eight years of age, as it is said in his letter of the
7th of July, 1503, he should have been born in 1458, which is
yet less admissible. Quotations of this kind could be multi-
plied." I submit that Harrisse should have multiplied such
quotations, which he calls contradictions et invraisemblances. For
in those given above I find no contradictions. The letter dated

1892.] WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? '655

the /th of July, 1503, is not extant in the original. We have
only two copies, one avowedly made from the other, and these
certainly contain a copyist's error in the number twenty-eight, as
all critics have admitted. Columbus probably wrote forty-eight
instead of twenty-eight, and if so it fits chronologically, as we
shall see, with the assertion made in the letter written in 1500.
But sound criticism draws no consequences from spurious docu-
ments. The letter, therefore, of the /th of July, 1500, must be
set aside. Let us see if the other two contradict each other.

It is admitted by critics generally, Harrisse included, that Co-
lumbus went to Spain from Portugal at the end of A.D. 1484.
The letter, which Harrisse says was written in November or De-
cember, 1500 (it has no date and may have been written in
1501), has the following: "It is already seventeen years since I
came to serve these princes in the undertaking of the Indies,
etc." A man born in January, 1850, can truthfully say in July,
1890, that he is forty years old. Another born in the same
month of the -same year may with equal truth say that he is for-
ty-one. The former counts the year excluding the current one,
the latter including it. It was Columbus's habit in counting
years to include both the year in which a period of time began
and the one in which it ended, as I took the trouble to ascer-
tain by actual examination of his writings. If, therefore, he came
to Spain in 1484, in November or December, 1500, he wrote the
simple truth when he said : " Ya son diez y siete afios que yo
vine servir estos principes con la impresa de los Indias."

On the 5th of May, 1487, Columbus was paid three thousand
maravedis for services rendered the king and queen, as appears
from the pay-rolls of the monarch's court, which are extant.
Why, then, could he not write in all truth on the I4th of Janu-
ary, 1493 : " It will be seven years the 2Oth of this month
since I came to serve your highnesses " ?

Does, then, the letter of the year 1500 and the statement
contained in his diary contradict each other ? Assuredly not. In
the one he refers to his coming to Spain to offer his services, in
the other to the actual date of his entering the service of the
monarchs. Harrisse has more than once hinted that Columbus
was given to deviating from the truth. He has, however, failed to
prove it. A careful study of his writings will convince the reader
that there is no reason for doubting the veracity of the dis-
coverer of America. If his writings, therefore, give us a clue to
his age they may safely be accepted as a legitimate source of
evidence.

656 WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? [Feb.,

It seems, then, to be an established historical fact that the
discoverer of America was born in the year 1435 or tne begin-
ning of 1436. But Harrisse advances an objection against ac-
cepting this date which he deems unanswerable. It consists of a
document dated Savona, the loth of September, 1484, which be-
gins as follows : " James Columbus, son of Dominic, a citizen of
Genoa, of his own accord gave and hired himself for the space
of twenty-two months as a domestic and pupil to Luchino
Cadamartori, to learn the trade of weaving cloth. . . . Said
James swore that he is above sixteen years of age," etc. This
James Columbus is undoubtedly the brother of Christopher.
Harrisse reasons thus from the foregoing document : Boys' ap-
prenticeships began, as a rule, at the age of between twelve and
fourteen years, and lasted for six years. But as in this case
James Columbus completed his professional training in twenty-
two months (in another document, dated the 25th of August,
1487, he is described as a full-fledged textor pannorum lance
i.e., a weaver of woollen cloth), we must take it for granted that
he had already begun his apprenticeship under his father at the
age of not more than fourteen years. On the loth of Septem-
ber, 1484, he was, therefore, about eighteen years old ; and if so,
he was born about the year 1466 that is, thirty or thirty-one
years after his brother Christopher, if the latter's date of nativity
be accepted as A.D. 1435 or 1436.

It might be answered that Harrisse's conclusion does not
make it impossible that Christopher Columbus should have been
born in 1435 or 1436. For it was not unusual in the fifteenth
century, as it is not now, for girls in and around Genoa to
marry at fifteen years of age. Neither is it unusual anywhere
for women to be fruitful at the age of forty-six, forty-seven, or
forty-eight. But as Harrisse, on account of his long studies and
his voluminous writings about everything concerning the great
Genoese mariner, has been and is being accepted as a great au-
thority in this branch of historical criticism, I propose to answer
at greater length his objection. In primis et ante omnia he has
more than once failed to properly understand the Latin of the
fifteenth century documents concerning Columbus e.g., because
he is in one of them once designated as lanarius, Harrisse takes
it for granted that he and his brother Bartholomew were weav-
ers by trade, although there is absolutely no other evidence to
prove it. Now, the word lanarius never was used to signify
weaver. It meant wool-dealer or manufacturer of woollen
goods. This must be proved. We have ten documents, drawn

1892.] WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? 657

in Genoa by six different notaries, in which Domenico Colombo
is described as textor pannorum lance, and never as lanarius. On
the contrary, twelve documents, drawn by six different notaries
in Savona after his removal thither, call him lanarius. This
would prove that his occupation in the two cities was not iden-
tical. But might it not be due to the notaries of Savona and
those of Geneva calling the same thing by different names ? As-
suredly not, because one of the Savonese documents, drawn pre-
vious to his removal from Genoa, describes him as textor panno-
rum lance and a citizen of Genova. The last-named document
was drawn by notary-public Giovanni Gallo on the 2d of
March, 1470, who, on the 27th of January, describes Dominic
Columbus in another document no longer as textor pannorum
lance civis Genuce, but as lanarius civis et habitator Savonce, all
of which proves conclusively that Columbus's father, in removing
from Genoa to Savona, changed his occupation. The following
document, dated Genoa, the 28th of November, 1470, tells us
exactly what was meant by the word -lanarius : " Baptist Zeno-
gio and De Garavanta, consuls of the guild of weavers of wool-
len cloth (consules artis textorum pannorum lance), by the will of
the undersigned members of the guild of weavers of woollen
cloth, decree that said members shall abide by the ordinance to
be made by said consuls, etc., . . . regarding the wages to
be accepted by them from the wool-dealers (Icmariis) for weav-
ing cloth," etc. Dominic Columbus's name appears on the roll
of the signers. By another document, dated Savona, the 7th of
December, 1474, the textor es pannorum lance (weavers) and the
lanarii (wool-dealers) agreed together that the wages to the for-
mer should be paid by the latter half in kind, or cloth, and half in
cash. Dominic Columbus's name appears again, but this time
not among the textor es pannorum lance, but among the lanarii.
In other words, Dominic Columbus never worked at the trade
of weaver in Savona that is, after the year 1472. If so, Har-
risse's objection fails completely. For if James Columbus had
begun his apprenticeship under his father, it must have been be-
fore the year 1472 ; and if so, in 1484 he must have been at
least twenty-eight or thirty years old. It is possible that his
father may have placed him as an apprentice with his own or
somebody else's journeymen weavers. But is it probable that
he should have wished to initiate his youngest son in a trade
the exercise of which he had abandoned himself? Is it proba-
ble that he should have taught his youngest son the trade at
which he did not work himself, when we know from reliable

658 WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? [Feb. r

contemporary evidence that his two oldest sons had not learned
it from him at a time when he was exercising it and living by
it ? James's early education had been a business rather than a
mechanical one. His subsequent career warrants this conclusion.
Although after finishing his apprenticeship with Cadamartori he
worked for some time at his trade, as is proved by several
documents, nevertheless in March, 1494, he was constituted by
his brother Christopher president of a junta, or committee, com-
posed of Spanish noblemen, courtiers, and high dignitaries to
govern the first colony and the first city in America. Is this
compatible with James Colombo having then been a young man
of twenty-eight years of age and his never having known more
than to be a journeyman weaver ?

How did it happen, then, that on the loth of September,
1484, he hired himself as an apprentice to Cadamartori for twen-
ty-two months ? Thus : Being then a grown man, and having
been in the wool business with his father, twenty-two months
sufficed him to obtain his ' diploma and to enter the guild of
weavers of woollen cloth. His father Dominic had established
himself in Savona in the wool business in 1471. At the begin-
ning he seems to have prospered, for on the iQth of August,
1474, he bought, although on credit, two considerable pieces of
property, consisting of a country house, vineyard, fields, and
woodland. But lie soon began to meet with reverses, and not
only could not pay for them, but was obliged to mortgage his
homestead in Geneva. His affairs went from bad to worse until
about the year 1484, when the remittances had failed which, ac-
cording to the testimony of Oviedo, his son Christopher had
been in the habit of sending him from Portugal (because the
latter was then leaving for Spain penniless and in debt), his
wife and one son, Giovanni Pellegrino, having died, he was
obliged to give up his business in Savona. He returned to
Geneva, and, it may be presumed, went to live with his son-in-
law, Giacomo Bavarello, and his daughter, Bianchineta. He took
to his trade again of cloth-weaving, as can be seen from several
documents, wherein he appears no longer as lanarius, but once
more as textor pannorum lance. Now that his father in his old
age was obliged to work again at his trade for a living, that his
two living brothers had expatriated themselves, his sisters married,
what could James do better, even if he was twenty-five or thirty
years old, than work for a living and at the same time master
his father's trade ?

Now, I will endeavor to prove by the aid of the very docu-

1892.] WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? 659

ments on which Harrisse founds his objection that James in 1484
was over twenty-five years of age. The Genoese laws of that
time declare that minors (and they were so considered until
their twenty-fifth year) could not enter into any valid contract
without the consent of their father, which was always expressed
in the contract itself when given. Inasmuch as James Colum-
bus bound himself to Cadamartori without his father's consent,
the conclusion can be fairly drawn that he must have been over
twenty-five years old. Furthermore, he is described as civis
Genuce a citizen of Genoa. An apprentice boy eighteen years
of age could scarcely have been so designated. It is true that
he was made to swear that he was then over sixteen. But this
was merely a necessary technicality of the law, which declared
the contracts of minors under sixteen null and void when made
with or without the consent of their father.

What other argument has Harrisse for advocating 1446 or
1447 as the date of Columbus's birth ? The following and no-
thing more : On the 25th of May, 1471, the mother of Colum-
bus ratified the sale made by her husband of a piece of real
estate on which she had a mortgage to secure her dowry. This
authorization she was prevented by statute from giving without
the consent of some, at least, of her nearest of kin. The notary's
act was drawn in Genoa, where and in the neighborhood of
which nearly all her relatives lived. Twelve of these were called
(but only three presented themselves), none of whom were Su-
sanna's children. Why? asks Harrisse. Because, he answers,
they were not of age, as the law required. However, shortly
after, on the 2Oth of March, 1472, Christopher appears as wit-
ness to a will, and on the 26th of August of the same year he
endorses for his father a promissory note given to pay for some
wool bought on credit transactions, both of them, supposing
very likely his majority. Again, on the 7th of August, 1473,
Susanna authorizes by notarial act the sale of another piece of
property ; and this time, among her nearest relatives to consent
to her doing so, her two children, Christopher and John Pelle-
grino, are mentioned. Harrisse draws the conclusion that while
on the 25th of May, 1471, they were not, on the 7th of August,
1473, both of them must have been of age. I answer, non sequi-
tur. In fact Susanna's sons, being sailors by profession (as we
know from Antonio Gallo, from Christopher's writings, and those
of his son Ferdinand), were probably abroad on the 25th of May,
1471, in which case the magistrate- had no jurisdiction to sum-
mon them. In fact, on the 23d of January, 1477, the same Su-

66o WHEN WAS COLUMBUS BORN? [Feb.,

sanna authorized the sale of yet a third piece of property ; and
among those of her relatives who gave their consent none of
her children figure. Could the conclusion be reasonably drawn
that therefore they were not of age ? On the contrary we know
from one of his letters that the immortal mariner was then
travelling the Northern seas. From the fact, therefore, that
Christopher did not appear to give his assent to the transaction
of the 25th of May, 1471, only the conclusion can be legitimate-
ly drawn that he was then absent from his native country
nothing more.

The future biographer of Christopher Columbus may safely
begin his work thus : The discoverer of America was born in
Genoa not earlier than 1435 nor later than 1436.

L. A. DUTTO.

Jack ton, Miss.

SUMMUM BONUM.

HE who has made us needful knows our need.

To take what is, to dare not nor desire

One inch beyond, but softly to suspire
Against His gift with no inglorious greed
This is true joy, though still our joys recede.

And, as in octaves of a noble lyre,

To move our minds with His, and clearer, higher,
Sound forth our fate oh, this is strength indeed !

Thanks to His love, both earth and man dispense
Sweet smoke of worship when the heart is stillest,
A praying more than prayer: "Great good have I
Till it be greater good to lay it by ;
Nor can I lose peace, power, permanence,

For these smile on me from the thing Thou wiliest."

LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY.

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 66 1

THE LOST LODE.

v A STORY OF MEXICO.

(CONCLUSION.)

VIII.

To Guadalupe, crouching on the edge of the forest, sick with
fear and torn by cruel anxiety, time had no meaning, and min-
utes seemed hours while she waited for Vyner's return, unable
to imagine upon what errand he had disappeared from her sight,
but fearing still that he might meet Fernando, and only certain
that she must see him leave the mine before she could take her
homeward way.

How long she waited in the solitude of the solemn night and
the silence that seemed to brood over the great mountain, she
never knew nor could even conjecture. Every thought and feel-
ing was merged in an agony of suspense while the slow moments
passed. But suddenly she lifted her head like a startled fawn,
for her quick ear caught the sound of footsteps coming hastily
down the mountain-side from the direction in which Vyner had
gone footsteps under which twigs and bushes broke, stones
clattered downward, and in the echo of which there was an in-
describable suggestion of fear and flight.

She rose to her feet, prepared for anything, and, as she did
so, her heart seemed to stand still, for it was Fernando whom
she saw coming toward her, hurrying forward in a strange, blind
haste that seemed to take no heed of obstacles, and with a pal-
lor on his face which owed nothing to the whiteness of the
moonbeams. She made a step from behind the trees which shel-
tered her, and confronted him as he entered the path by which
she had ascended.

He recoiled at sight of her with a sharp, quick cry ; and in-
deed he might have been pardoned for thinking that a spirit
stood before him, so unearthly was her aspect as the moonlight
fell over her, showing her pale face amid the shrouding folds of
her drapery. " Madre de Dios ! " he gasped, and lifted his hand
instinctively to make the sign of the cross. But the next instant
he knew who stood before him for Guadalupe spoke.

'* Fernando ! " she said and her voice had a heart-piercing

662 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

tone of entreaty in it " what has happened ? What have you
done ? "

" What have I done ? " he repeated. A strong shiver shook
him from head to foot. " I have killed him, Guadalupe ! God
knows I did not mean to do it but he came upon us full of
rage, there were hot, bitter words, and in my passion I struck
him down."

" Ah, my God, it is what I feared ! " she said, smiting her
hands together and then clasping them before her eyes as if to
shut out the sight of which he spoke. " I came to warn you,
but I knew not where to find you. Oh, if I had but known ! "

" To warn me ? " He looked at her with a sudden perception
of the strangeness of her presence at such an hour on this lone-
ly mountain-side. " But how did you know anything ? "

" I was wakeful, thinking of and watching for you," she an-
swered, "when I saw Senor Vyner pass in the direction of the
mine, and, fearing that you were here, I came up the mountain
in the hope of warning, of saving you from violence and crime.
But God did not permit me to do this. Seflor Vyner had al-
ready arrived when I reached here. Even then, had I known
where to find you, I might have warned you, for he entered the
mine before ascending the height ; but I knew nothing, so I
could only wait praying, fearing. But all this matters nothing
now. Tell me if there is no hope ! Are you certain that you
have killed him?"

" I am not certain that he is dead, but I am certain that I
gave him a blow which no man could receive and live," Fernan-
do replied. " I did not wait to see how it was with him. When
he fell and lay a senseless heap " a strong shudder shook him
again " I left him. The deed was done. Nothing can undo
it now."

" But it may be that you did not kill him ! " she cried with
sudden, passionate hope. " How can you tell if you did not wait
to see ? Come, let us go back at once at once ! It may be that
we can save him yet."

"Are you mad?" asked- Fernando, looking at her with eyes
of angry wonder. " You go down into that shaft it is impossi-
ble ! And for me, nothing will ever take me back. I tell you
that no man could receive the blow that I dealt Vyner and live."

" But you do not know that he is dead, and yet you would
leave him there, injured and alone ? " she said in an anguished
tone. " Fernando, that cannot be ! You must come with me, or
I shall go without you."

1892.] THE LOST* LODE. 663

"You shall not!" he cried. "What insanity is this? He is
not alone. I had with me an old man one of the ancient miners,
who knows the locality of the lost lode. He is still there, and
though old, he is strong and determined. Vyner will never leave
the mine alive. Be sure of that."

" Merciful God ! " she shrank back as if from a blow, though
no mere physical blow could have equalled the terrible significance
of those words. For a moment horror held her motionless.
Then the very extremity of the necessity gave her strength to
speak.

" Come with me," she said and it seemed no longer Guada-
lupe who spoke "if you have not the soul of a coward, come
and see that murder is not done ! There is not a second to lose.
Come ! "

" No ! " he answered violently. . " Not all the riches of the
mine could tempt me to descend that shaft again. Besides, it is
too late. The man is either dead or You do not understand !
It would be madness now to let him come forth with such a
tale ! "

" And so you left him, either to die or be treacherously
killed ! " she cried in a voice filled with a passion of feeling.
" O Fernando ! it is you who are mad, who know not what
you are doing. You struck him down in anger, but you did not
mean to kill him you said so. Come, then, and let us save him,
if he can be saved. Prove to me and to yourself that you are
no murderer. If you have ever been, for one hour, the man I
believed you, come with me now. For the love of God, come ! "

In the extremity of her pleading she forgot the horror that
a moment before possessed her, and drew near to him, laying
her hand upon his arm with a gesture of entreaty. Had his guar-
dian angel taken mortal form beside him and spoken with mortal
tongue, such look and voice could hardly have been fraught with
more intense supplication, more ardent appeal, than that of Gua-
dalupe's face as she lifted it toward him, and vibrated in the tones
of her voice. But neither face nor voice had power to % move the
dark spirit of the man to whom she spoke. He flung off her
hand with a motion of his arm, and turned upon her with words
that like a deadly fire scorched the last vestige of love for him
in her heart.

" It must be," he said with a furious glance, " that the man
whose life you are so anxious to preserve whose safety is so
much more precious in your eyes than mine is indeed your
lover, as people have said. Do not think that I have not heard

664 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

of his visits to you while I / was toiling and sinning for your
sake ! And if he be your lover, why should you not have be-
trayed me to him how else did he come here ? You alone
knew of my hopes and my labors. Traitress that you are, go to
him if you will, but you will be too late to save him, and you
may be grateful that I do not kill you with him!"

" To kill my body would be a small thing compared to kill-
ing every feeling that I have ever had for you," she answered
in a tone which expressed a compassion so great that even scorn
was lost in it. " Hereafter what you may think of me is less
than nothing to me ; but once more, in the name of God, I call
upon you to come with me and save your soul from fearful
crime. If you will not come, take with you the knowledge that
in the sight of God you are a murderer ! "

She stood before him with a dignity that was majestic, her
bearing full 'of an almost stern command, her face white and set
as if carved in stone, and her eyes burning with a fire before
which he shrank. But to do that which she commanded was im-
possible to him. He hesitated a moment, then made a hopeless
gesture and, throwing out his hands wildly, rushed down the
mountain.

For an instant Guadalupe remained motionless, listening to
the echo of the receding steps which alone broke the solemn
silence of the night. And, as she listened, the thought that she
was alone alone to take up the burden of horror from which
Fernando had fled, to descend by perilous ways into the dark
recesses of the mine, to meet the awful presence of the probably
murdered man and the more awful presence of the living one who
kept guard over him, fell upon her with a crushing and terrible
weight. She sank shuddering upon her knees and lifted her
agonized face toward heaven. "Help me, my God! help me
not to fail ! " was her inarticulate cry. " Give me a courage
great enough for what I must do."

It was only a minute that she spent in supplication, but to
those of f)ure heart and strong faith the Heaven upon which they
call is very near, and she felt a courage great enough for all
that lay before her when she rose and took her way swiftly
toward the mine. She could not afterwards have told what in-
stinct led her to provide herself with the means of light a candle
and matches taken from the receptacle for such objects near the
mouth of the tunnel or which brought her steps so unerringly
to the shaft where Vyner had descended. When she saw its
dark mouth and the rudely notched pole which constituted the

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 665

only way of descent, her heart for an instant failed but only
for an instant. The heroic spirit dominated all instincts of fear,
and with one swift, appealing glance toward the bending sky,
she stepped downward and began the difficult and perilous
descent.

Meanwhile, in a gallery that opened horizontally from the
shaft, at a depth of about a hundred and fifty feet below the
surface, lay the unconscious form of the man whom Fernando
Sandoval had struck down when surprised in his treachery.
Since the terrible blow, given with the miner's pick, had descend-
ed on his head, he had not stirred ; but that he was not dead
the old Indian, who bent over him, assured himself now and
then by putting his ear to the slow and heavily-beating heart. It
was a weird scene which the faint light of a single candle revealed
in the dark and gloomy spot. The roughly excavated rock,
glistening with moisture as the rays of light struck upon it,
arched overhead and formed the walls that led away into black-
ness beyond. On the damp and muddy floor of the gallery, Vyner
lay as he had fallen, with white, senseless face upturned. The
old man crouched beside him, his thin, brown countenance abso-
lutely impassive, but his dark, piercing eyes fixed intently on
the motionless form, as if watching for the least sign of life ;
while he kept one thin, sinewy hand buried in the loose, open folds
of his shirt. The attitude was significant enough for there could
be no doubt that the object upon which that hand rested was the
handle of a knife but even more significant was the concentra-
tion of purpose on the keen face, the unrelaxing watchfulness of
the shining glance. Let Vyner stir hand or foot, let his eyes but
for one second unclose, and the knife would be buried in his
heart. Nothing could be more certain than that. A tiger watch-
ing his prey might be expected to relent sooner than the man
who watched him with that terrible, impassive face.

But while he watched, his quick ear caught a sound, faint in-
deed but still a sound which conveyed unmistakably the intima-
tion of another presence beside his own in the mine. The lean,
old head on the thin, brown neck turned sharply and listened
intently. Had Fernando recovered his courage and was he re-
turning, or could it be possible that some one else was slowly
and with difficulty descending the shaft ? Such a thing was
wildly improbable, but it was not impossible, and rising from
his crouching posture with a resolute expression, the old man
seized the candle, which had been fastened on a projecting rock

666 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

by a lump of mud, and with the long, nervous fingers of the
hand in his bosom clutching yet more firmly the handle of the
knife which lay there, he went forward to investigate.

Before he reached the end of the gallery, however, a presence
or was it an apparition? appeared there, framed in the rough
stone arch, which the light that it carried illumined, like a
picture of some fair, tender saint, or of the Queen of Saints,
Mary most merciful, suddenly brought to life. Like a star
against the gloom and darkness, the beautiful white face ap-
peared, and the dilated eyes shone with a lustre not of earth as
they met his terrified gaze. He had not a moment's doubt of
the supernatural character of the figure for how could mortal
woman appear in such a place, and when did mortal woman
ever wear such an aspect ? The candle dropped from his
trembling hand as he fell on his knees, making the sign of the
cross and crying, as Fernando had cried before him, the loved,
familiar, yet now terrible name, " Madre de Dios ! "

" Do you take me for the Mother of God, Rosalio Gallardo ?"
asked Guadalupe, pausing before him, " that you kneel to me
like this? And yet, before you rise, thank her that I have been
sent to save you from terrible crime. For he lives yet the man
whom you have stayed here to guard is it not so ? God has
not permitted him to die, or you to commit the sin which has
been in your heart ? "

The man rose slowly to his feet. He was still trembling in every
limb. The occurrence seemed to him hardly less wonderful,
hardly less supernatural, now that he knew it was only a woman
of the earth, not an inhabitant of the shining heavens, who spoke
to him. Her appearance savored of the miraculous hardly less
than if she had been a spirit, and the majesty of her bearing,
the dignity of her address, impressed him as the higher nature
must always impress the lower, unless the latter has lost all habit
of reverence, all belief in higher things ; and these no Mexican
has wholly lost.

"Yes, sefiora," Rosalio answered, scarcely knowing what he
said, " he is living yet. I was watching him. Maria Santissima
knows "

" Show me where he is," said Guadalupe, passing him by.

She had not now the faintest thought of fear, alone though
she was in the depths of the earth with a half-murdered man,
and one who was a murderer in intent, if not in act. Had she
exhibited a single sign of timidity or the least consciousness of
danger, there is no telling what the result might have been ; but

1892.] THE LOST LODE: 667

her manner could not have been more assured in its quiet com-
mand had she stood on the threshold of her own house, with
hosts of servants within her call. Without casting a glance be-
hind at the man she had passed, she went quickly forward, knelt
down by Vyner's prostrate form, and laid her hand upon his
heart. Then she looked up at Rosalio, who had drawn near and
stood beside her. " Bring me some water," she said, with the
same air and tone of authority.

He obeyed silently, bringing some water from a place not
far distant and watching with gloomy interest while she bathed
the face of the unconscious man, loosened his collar, and pressed
a few drops of the moisture between his pale lips. Presently,
under this reviving influence, his respiration grew more apparent,
and it was evident that life was asserting itself against the terri-
ble effect of the blow which, but for. the heavy hat he had worn,
would have left no life to survive. Then again Guadalupe looked
up at the statue-like figure beside her.

"Have you any stimulant ?" she asked quickly "aguardiente,
tequila, anything ? "

There was a moment's barely perceptible hesitation before
the man turned again and, going to the place from whence he
had brought the water, brought now a bottle containing a color-
less liquid which was no other than the fiery vino de mescal,
locally known as tequila. But before giving the bottle into her
outstretched hand he looked at her with his keen, deep-set eyes,
and spoke for the first time since she had ' cut short his first
speech.

" Would it not be well," he said, " for the seftora to stop
and think a moment before she brings this man back to life. I
know now who the seftora is. If he lives, what will become of
her cousin, Fernando Sandoval ? "

She glanced up at him with a gaze filled with the light of a
steadfast purpose. " If by God's help I can save this man's life,"
she said, " I shall save my cousin from crime and undying re-
morse. And I shall save you, too, little as you seem to think of
it. What manner of life have you lived that in your last days
for you are an old man you can wish to lose your soul by an
act of deliberate murder? Give me that bottle and lift his
head."

He gave the bottle without another word, and, kneeling on

Vyner's other side, obediently raised his head while she poured

a few drops of the potent stimulant between his lips. Almost

immediately the result was apparent in the strengthening of his

VOL. LIV. 43

668 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

before hardly perceptible pulse. Again and yet again she poured
the liquid cautiously down his throat, until suddenly oh, won-
der hardly hoped for! he gave a half-strangled gasp and, open-
ing his eyes, looked at her.

Two hours later a faint, exhausted man lay stretched on the
ground at the mouth of the shaft. As long as he lives the
memory of that ascent will be to him a nightmare of horror.
But for the rope fastened around his waist and held by the old
man who preceded him up the primitive ladder, he could never
have reached the top. More than once he had swayed, tottered,
almost fallen, while a faintness as of death nearly overpowered
him. But Rosalie's sustaining hand above, and Guadalupe's en-
couraging voice below, sustained him enabling him to fight off
the black unconsciousness ; and at last, after what seemed an
eternity of painful effort, he felt the fresh air of the upper
world, saw the white glory of the moonlight, and fell down a
well-nigh senseless heap once more under the vast, bending
heaven.

But revival was not so difficult now when all the blessed in-
fluences of Nature aided in the work. Like a man in a dream
he was conscious again of Guadalupe's hand bathing his brow,
of the fiery liquid she offered to his lips, and of the urgency of
her voice.

" Bring his horse," she said to Rosalio. " Have it ready
here. There must be no delay, or daylight will surprise you on
the road. Ah, seflor, rouse yourself! for the love of God make
another effort ! ' $

Who could withstand that piteous appeal ! Vyner opened his
eyes and murmured, " What do you wish me to do ? "

" To mount your horse as soon as you are able," she an-
swered. " You can ride slowly this man will lead the animal
and support you in the. saddle. You must get home before day-
light comes and people are abroad."

" Why ? " he asked brokenly. " I will stay here until I can-
send for a carriage."

She seized him by the shoulder in her desperation and shook
him almost fiercely. " Sefior," she said, " listen to me ! I have
saved your life ; but for me you would be lying dead down there
in the mine ! I tell you this that you may do something for
me, that you may rouse yourself for the effort I ask of you. It
is hard I know it is hard but oh, for God's sake, for my sake,
try ! "

He rose and staggered to his feet. Dull and stupid as he

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 669

yet felt, he understood her words and knew that they were true.
But for "her he would indeed be lying dead, down in the dark
depths of the mine, never again to feel the sweet air of heaven
or look upon the beauty of the earth. What, then, could she
ask of him that he would not, must not do ? A faint stirring
of life came to him somewhat blindly he put out his hand to
her.

" Do what you will with me," he said. " I am ready."

She made a quick motion to the old Indian, and between them
they helped him to his saddle. Then Rosalio flung a steadying arm
around him, and placed the other hand upon the bridle of the
horse. " Take him to the door of his house and leave him there
in charge of his servants," said Guadalupe, in a low, firm tone.
" Remember, if he is not carried safely, I will tell all." Then
she looked up in the face of the man who swaying slightly
from weakness looked down upon her. To his dying day he
will never forget that countenance, white as carven marble, with
its dark, luminous, mournful eyes, on which the moonlight fell.

"Seftor," she said, " if I remind you again of what I have
done for you, it is only that I may ask a pledge of you. Pro-
mise me that you will be silent about the events of this night.
Make what use you will of all that you have learned but tell
nothing of how you learned it, or of how you have suffered.
This is much to ask, but I do ask it of you in exchange for
your life."

" I will be silent as the grave from which you have saved
me," he answered solemnly. " I promise you that on my
honor."

He almost thought that she smiled, so sweet a relaxation
came to the tense lines about her lips. She looked at him
gratefully. One would have ^thought that it was her own life
which had been saved.

" Thank you," she said softly. " God keep you and restore
you soon to health."

She made a motion to the silent figure at the horse's side.
Quickly the man stepped out in the long stride of his race,
keeping step easily with the animal, and they passed away down
the mountain, leaving her alone in the still glory of the solemn
night.

IX.

The little Mexican town rang next morning with the news
that the English sefior of the Espiritu Santo Mine had been

670 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

nearly murdered, and left mysteriously in an insensible condition
at his own door. The mozo who slept in the vestibule had been
roused by a loud knocking, but by the time he had sleepily
risen from his mat, shaken himself, and unbarred the heavy por-
tals, he found no one except his master, leaning forward in a
state of semi-unconsciousness on the neck of his horse, which
stood motionless, as if possessing a knowledge that all was not
right with his rider. Moonlight still lay white over the earth,
but the first faint flush of dawn was in tbe eastern sky, as the
astonished servant looked up and down the long, silent street
and found no sign of any living figure. Whoever had given the
summons which roused him had, when assured of his approach,
fled swiftly and vanished completely. Wondering and foreboding,
the man approached his master and lifted him from the saddle.
Vyner made one last effort to do what was necessary; but
nature had been taxed to its utmost. He reeled as if drunken,
caught the mozo's arm, and would have fallen heavily had not
that arm interposed and saved him. The man laid him down
within the threshold and roused the other servants. Together
they bore him to his bed and summoned a doctor, who found
him unconscious from an injury on the head which he at once
pronounced to have been caused by a blow that came narrowly
near fracturing the skull, and the consequences of which might
prove very serious.

That they were less serious than he anticipated reflected no
discredit upon his professional foresight. The patient had a
strong constitution and probably a very hard head also ; for the
concussion of the brain from which he suffered did not lead to
brain fever, as the doctor feared it would. After a few days the
stupor passed, and the mind began to act again slowly going
back over the events of the night which would henceforth stand
out from all other nights in his memory.

For as he lay, weak in body and by no means strong as re-
garded mental processes, one face dominated all that he remem-
bered of this night a pale, beautiful face, at which he had gazed
out of a black mist of unconsciousness like unto death, in the
dark depths of the mine, and again in the white lustre of the
moonbeams upon the surface of the earth. He might have
thought his memory of it a delusion but for the fact that his
recollection, dim enough on other points, was most clear and in-
sistent with regard to all that Guadalupe had said and done.
But how did she come to be there? What possible influence
had brought the carefully guarded maiden to that lonely moun-

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 671

tain at such an hour? Judging the strength of the influence by
the peril incurred, he said to himself that it must have been
powerful beyond all measure of expression. Was it for the sake
of the cousin whom he had found so treacherously engaged in
betraying himself ? But how could her presence advantage Fer-
nando, absorbed as he was in feverish work ? Could it possibly,
then, have been for him, Vyner, that she had set at naught all
fear, risked all dangers? Had she by some strange chance
learned of his peril and come to save him ? It must be so
since what but the compelling force of love, that counts no ob-
stacles and considers no dangers where the safety of the loved
one is concerned, could have nerved a delicate girl to the descent
into the mine where she had found him.

And as he laid this flattering belief to his heart he felt that
heart beating as it had never throbbed before. He knew now
how much Guadalupe's apparent indifference had held in check
his passion for her, since in the thought of what she had done
and dared for him it burst all bounds and seemed to pour like
fire through his veins. Had he fancied that he had outlived such
possibilities of feeling? Well, it was worth while to have been
spared from death to be undeceived, to know once more the ar-
dor of primitive passion, the wild, thrilling, unreasoning love
before which all other feelings vanish as dry grass before flame.
He absolutely forgot the existence of the woman he had loved
in England, he gave not a thought to the lost lode or to Fer-
nando's treachery. Everything was merged in one overmaster-
ing desire to see Guadalupe again, and to make her his own
for ever.

Meanwhile he had seen no one but the doctor, for all other
visitors were by that authority sternly forbidden ; but as soon as
he was sufficiently recovered to permit the least conversation
with safety to his health, a visitor who would not be denied
came the jefe-politico of the town, whose call was both of a
friendly and official character. He wished to know how Seftor
Vyner was, and also to inquire into the particulars of what had
befallen him " since it is necessary," he said politely, "that your
assailant should be punished."

" But suppose, sefior, that I had no assailant," replied Vyner
quietly. " I was unfortunate enough to meet with an accident
but the nature of it only concerns myself."

The official looked at him keenly and read a mystery. " Par-
don me, sefior," he said, " but some accidents concern very much
those whose duty it is to guard order and punish crime. I shall

672 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

be very much obliged, therefore, if you will give me an account
of what befell you on the night when you were absent from
your house, and when you returned or were brought back in
so sad a condition."

" I am sorry that it is altogether out of my power to oblige
you," replied Vyner with equal courtesy of manner and decision
of tone. " I repeat that the events of that night concern no one
but myself ; and I therefore decline absolutely to give any ac-
count of them."

The eyes of the two men met and rested each upon the
other for a space of* time measured by no more than seconds,
but it was enough to convince the Mexican that nothing was to
be gained by pressing his inquiries.

4< I understand, seftor," he said, dropping his eyes. " It was
an affair of gallantry, no doubt, and the consequences well,
they are not uncommon with our people. It is fortunate that
you escaped a knife-thrust, which might not have been so easily
healed. And there is positively no one, then, whom you would
wish to see punished ?"

" No one," replied Vyner. " I appreciate your zeal, seftor,
and am grateful for your solicitude in my behalf ; but I can tell
you nothing."

" I am sorry that you are so positive," said the other regret-
fully. " It is mortifying that a stranger should suffer such in-
juries in our midst, and that no steps should be taken to punish
those who inflicted them ; but if we have no information to pro-
ceed upon "

" It is impossible for you to do anything," said Vyner in
prompt conclusion. "Believe me, I recognize that fully; and I
beg you to accept my thanks again for your admirable inten-
tions."

And so the interview ended. Public curiosity and official zeal
were alike destined to remain ungratified with regard to a matter
which stirred both very deeply ; for there was not the least clue
by means of which to arrive at a knowledge of events the chief
actor in which remained so determinedly silent. An affair of
gallantry was an easy explanation to suggest ; but it was trying,
to say the least, that no one could throw the least light upon
.the person or persons concerned therein.

At the mine, meanwhile, everything had gone on as usual ;
for reluctant as Fernando had been to return to his post the
morning after Vyner's discovery of his treachery, a few words
from Guadalupe had decided him to do so. She found him

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 673

awaiting her at the foot of the mountain when she descended,
for until he saw her and learned whether or not Vyner was ab-
solutely dead, he could not decide where to go or what to do.
On seeing him she paused and spoke very quietly.

" Sefior Vyner lives," she said. " Thank God that I was in
time to save him. He revived sufficiently to ascend the shaft,
and I have sent him home in charge of the old man who
knows that if he is not taken there safely, I will tell every-
thing."

" He revived you have sent him home ! " stammered Fernan-
do. He could only gaze at her as if fascinated. Was it indeed
Guadalupe who seemed so calm, so fearless, so strangely altered
from the girl he had known and loved all his life ? He could
hardly have felt a greater change in her had she been indeed
the spirit for which he had first taken her.

"Yes, he has gone home," she repeated. "Whether to live
or die God only knows. But in either case you are safe as far
as the knowledge of men is concerned. He has promised me
that he will be silent regarding all that has happened this night.
I think that he will keep his promise. To-morrow you must go
to the mine as usual and remain there until it is possible for
you to leave in an apparently natural manner."

" Go to the mine ! " he repeated aghast. " I cannot do it it
is impossible ! "

" Then you will proclaim everything, and bring shame upon
yourself and all connected with you," she answered. " Have
you no thought of your father's honorable name? Do you wish
to break his heart ? This is something which does not concern
yourself alone. If you refuse, terrible as the necessity will be,
I must speak to my uncle."

" Are you not afraid to threaten me ? " he demanded, turning
upon her. " Does your infatuation for your new lover carry you
so far that you dare all things ? Speak to my father by all
means ! It will be interesting to know what he will think of
this midnight excursion of yours."

" I am not afraid that my uncle will doubt or disbelieve me
when I tell him what led me out of his house alone, in the
night," she answered. " But I hope that he may be spared the
knowledge of how I went to save his son from being detected
in treachery, and found him flying with blood upon his hand
and soul. No more, Fernando let us talk no more ! The dead
have no need of words, and you and I are dead to each other

674 THE LOST LODE. [Feb. r

henceforth. Only remember that you must go to the mine to-
morrow and that if you do not I shall tell my uncle all.'*

She drew the shrouding folds of her drapery closer about
her face and made a movement to pass on, but Fernando put
out his hand and stopped her.

" One moment ! " he said hoarsely. " Do you believe that
Vyner will keep his promise and be silent ? "

" I believe it," she answered.

"And if not?"

" If not, could anything be worse than the confession which
your own flight would make? Ah, for your father's sake, be a
man, Fernando ! Spare him the knowledge of that which his
best-loved son, the pride of his heart, has become ! "

"And you and you, Guadalupe!" He sank suddenly on
his knees on the path before her, and caught her dress with
eager hands. " Have you no pity for the man whose love for
you led him into dishonor and crime? God forgives the peni-
tent and do you refuse to do so ? I know that I have outraged
and insulted you to-night but I never believed, never meant
it ! Madness spoke, not I. You have saved me from a
murderer's remorse and perhaps a murderer's doom save me
now from misery and despair ! Bid me go to that accursed
mine for your sake, and I will do it ! What do I say ? I would
go I have gone to the very gates of hell for your sake ! "

" And that . being so, Fernando, you shall never go there or
elsewhere for me," she answered solemnly. " If I have been the
unhappy cause that tempted you into dark paths, I will be so
no longer. We will think no more of love, but of penitence.
You, for yourself, and I for you, will beg God to pardon the
sin which almost culminated to-night in the worst of crimes.
Go, pray for that pardon, and resolve to bear the bitter expia-
tion which follows all wrong-doing with the courage of one who
has not forgotten that he was once a brave and an honorable
man. Now I must go. If my absence is discovered, it will be
ill for both of us."

" And not one word not one word of pardon, Guadalupe ? "

She looked at him with a glance in which there was the
pitying pardon of an angel but where he would have sought
vainly for the love of a woman. The word he craved she did
not speak; but lifting her hand she made the sign of the cross
over his upturned face a beautiful mode of household blessing
in Mexico and then turned quickly and left him.

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 675

It was a few days after the visit of the jefe-politico, and when
Vyner was beginning to consider whether he was not able to
ride out to the hacienda, since he longed above all things for a
sight of Guadalupe, that he received a call from another and
most unexpected visitor. This was the cura, or parish priest, of
the town a tall, grave, slender man, whom Vyner had often ad-
mired as a picturesque figure when he saw him passing along
the streets draped 'in the graceful folds of his cloak, and whose
dark, delicate face and tonsured head recalled the pictures of
ascetic saints with which all the world is familiar in Spanish and
Italian galleries. But beyond exchanging a courteous salutation
occasionally when accidentally meeting, he had no acquaintance
with this interesting person ; and he was, therefore, not a little
surprised when his servant announced " El Sefior Cura," and in-
to the room where he reclined in semi-invalid ease the priest
walked.

It appeared at first as if his visit was only of a friendly na-
ture, to express concern at the serious injury which had befallen
one who was a stranger and a foreigner, and to offer the most
apparently sincere congratulations on his recovery. But as he
talked, Vyner could not resist the impression that he knew the
true cause of his mysterious accident ; and this impression re-
ceived absolute confirmation when, on preparing to take leave,
the cura uttered a few significant words.

" It has given me pleasure to pay this visit, sefior ; but since
I could hardly claim the honor of your acquaintance, I might
not perhaps have ventured to intrude upon you had I not been
asked to do so by one who takes a deep interest in your condi-
tion the Seflorita Guadalupe Sandoval."

At sound of that name the color leaped to Vyner's cheek
and a light into his eyes ; but before he could speak the priest
went on :

" She is not only anxious to know how you are, but she
wishes much to see you. She is to-day at the curato with my
sister. Is it possible for you to walk there and speak to her for
a few minutes ? She desires to see you more privately than is
possible at the hacienda."

Vyner was on his feet in an instant. He forgot that he had
ever been a sick man. An elixir of vitality seemed poured into
his veins in the mere thought that Guadalupe wished to see him,
that she had sent for him.

676 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

" I shall be delighted, seftor," he managed to say. " Dofia
Guadalupe honors me by her request. Can I accompany you at
once?"

" It will be well," answered the cura with a slight smile.

And so, walking as one in a dream, Vyner went with the
tall, black-draped figure out into the glare of the sunlit streets. It
was not very far to the curato, which adjoined the church, and
once formed part of an ancient monastery. There was a clois-
tral air still about the beautiful old court into which Vyner
found himself introduced, where a great brirriming fountain filled
the centre, in the midst of broad-leaved tropical plants, and
vines that with a wealth of greenery clambered up the pillars
and around the carved stone arches of the corridors which en-
circled the four sides of the quadrangle. All was still and full
of the spirit of repose. Two or three white-plumaged pigeons
were resting on the edge of the fountain, now and then dipping
their beaks in the water like Pliny's doves. Some of the an-
cient monastic inscriptions were still visible on the walls. As
Vyner sat down, while the cura with a few words of apology
left him, he found himself half-unconsciously reading these in-
scriptions : " Quardad el orden para que el orden os guarded
" Sin la Fe es impossible agradar d Dios" " Que aprovecha al
hombre ganar el mundo enter o si pierde su alma." " Si no hizie-
reis penitencia todos igualmente perecereis."

So they ran, the spirit which they breathed making a strange
contrast to the mood of the man who read them. He might
have been struck with this himself had not the thought of
Guadalupe near at hand banished all possible reflections upon
the brown-robed Franciscans who once paced these cloisters and
thus reminded themselves of their renunciation of the world and
all things earthly.

It seemed to him that the cura was long absent, but in re-
ality only a few minutes elapsed before he returned, saying with
grave courtesy, " If you will come this way, seflor, Dofia Guada-
lupe will see you."

A moment later Vyner found himself in a long, lofty room,
very bare of furniture but impressive from its fine air of space,
its rigorous cleanliness and noble proportions. A few religious
pictures, old and dim but of evident artistic value, hung upon
the walls, a number of straight-backed chairs were ranged below
them. At one end of the apartment stood a table on which
were books, writing materials, and a tall ivory crucifix. Near
this was a small square of carpet, a narrow sofa, and two or

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 677

three more comfortable chairs. To this place of honor the cura
ceremoniously led his guest, but, before he could obey the ges-
ture which invited him to be seated, a door at the farther end
of the room opened, and Guadalupe entered.

Vyner's first sensation on seeing her was one of shocked sur-
prise so much had she changed since he saw her last. How
pale and thin was her face, how dark the shadows beneath her
beautiful eyes ! She looked like one who had just arisen from a
bed of sickness ; and this thought found expression in his first
words.

" You have been ill ! " he said, taking a few impetuous steps
to meet her. " It was too much for you " He paused ab-
ruptly. He had been about to add, "that night upon the moun-
tain when you saved me," but the cura was still standing by,
and he suddenly remembered that h.e did not know how much
or how little had been revealed to the latter.

" I have been ill a little," she answered, " but it did not mat-
ter. Why should you speak of anything so unimportant ? I
can think of nothing but my gratitude to God that I see you
standing before me once more in life and health. Ah, sefior,
never, never can I be grateful enough that our prayers " she
glanced at the priest as if to show who was included in the
plural pronoun " have been heard, and your life has been
spared."

" Sefior Vyner has indeed much to thank God and you for,"
said the 'cura impressively. " And now I will leave you to speak
to him undisturbed."

He turned and went out, closing the door carefully behind
him. Guadalupe sat down on the sofa, and, leaning back with
an air of weakness, invited Vyner by a gesture to take the
chair nearest her. He obeyed ; but so powerful was the emo-
tion which filled his heart as he looked at her, that he was ab-
solutely incapable of utterance, and it was she who spoke
first.

" It is very good of you, sefior, to come so promptly in an-
swer to my summons. Since we have heard that you were
getting better, I have troubled myself much to think how I
could possibly be sure of obtaining a few words alone with
you for they are words which it is very necessary that I should
speak. But my kind friend the cura came to my assistance and
offered to arrange an opportunity. This is why I see you here."

" I felt your summons to be an honor," Vyner answered,
" and as for my coming promptly one does not deserve much

678 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

thanks for doing that which one desires to do above all things.
I, too, have been troubling myself with the thought of how I
could best manage to see you but it was not so much for the
sake of anything I had to say, as simply to see you. And yet
I have much to say, for I have my life to thank you for. I do
not know how or why you came to be upon that mountain ;
but I know well that had you not been there, I should not be
here now."

She put her hands to her face for a moment with a slight
shudder, as if the memory of that to which he alluded was al-
most more than she could bear. Then dropping them into her
lap, she looked at him steadily with her sad, lovely gaze.

"And if I did something for you that night, seftor," she
said, "you have fully repaid me by the strict and honorable
manner in which you have observed the secrecy I asked of you.
To know the truth would, I think, kill my uncle for he has
had much trouble, and he is a proud man. I am aware that I
asked much of you in entreating this silence for you have been
betrayed in your most important interests by one whom you
trusted betrayed, as well as almost murdered. I am bowed to
the earth with shame when I think of it, when I say to myself
that my cousin "

She paused, her voice .choked with the emotion which for a
moment she could not control. And it was then, without an
instant's premeditation, that Vyner let himself go.

"Guadalupe, Guadalupe," he said, suddenly bending forward
and taking the two slender hands that lay in her lap, " do not
think of these things ! Think only of what I am going to tell
you. I love you with all my heart ! What is it to me whether
your cousin betrayed me or not ? I thank him for nearly kill-
ing me, since it has made me owe my life my new life to
you. If you will take this life, which is now yours and yours
only, I can ask nothing better of earth. And I have said to
myself of late that there may be a hope of this happiness for
me if it was indeed for my sake that you climbed that lonely
mountain in the dead of night "

She drew her hands from his grasp with a look of something
akin to terror. " Ah, my God ! " she breathed, as if to herself,
" what is this ? Senor, what can I say to you ? " she went on,
looking at Vyner. "You are mistaken. It was not for your
sake I went to the mine that night. It was to warn my cousin
of your coming, since I saw you pass our house."

He started as if she had stung him. " What ! " he said in a

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 679

voice the tones of which were all jarring, "you knew, then, of
his treachery > and wished to shield him from discovery?"

"I wished," she said, "to save him from possible crime, and
you from possible danger for I feared what would occur if you
met. I did not know he was there, but I suspected it ; and
your going to the mine at such an hour made me almost cer-
tain of it. So I went and although I was not able to prevent
what I feared, by God's mercy I prevented its worse conse-
quence."

" Ah," he said, " I remember now that your manner the day
before first made me think that there might be something wrong
with your cousin. I felt th'en that you feared or suspected
something. But let that pass. How does it matter? Whether
you went that night for my sake or not, you saved my life, and
I love you with a passionate devotion. I can think of nothing
but these things nothing else is worth a moment's consideration.
Guadalupe, will you not take the life and the devotion ? Ah !
if you only will "

He leaned forward as if he would again have seized her hands,
but she drew slightly away and spoke with a grave and gentle
dignity, which even in that moment he thought he had never
seen equalled.

" Seflor," she said, " listen to me while I tell you a story. It
is one which I came here to tell you, though I never thought
of such a reason for it as the one you have just given me. You
know, perhaps, that I have grown up in my uncle's house, and
that my cousin Fernando and I have known each other from
our earliest years. But you do not know that we have loved
each other always not as cousins only, but in a more tender
and peculiar manner. Had things been different, we should have
been acknowledged lovers. But everything was against us most
of all our poverty. I am a child of charity, possessing nothing,
and my uncle, with a large family and many cares, could give
Fernando nothing. So there seemed before us only hopeless
waiting, or more hopeless separation. And then came the temp-
tation which turned Fernando from an honorable man into a
traitor. His heart was set upon finding the lost lode of the Es-
piritu Santo Mine. Once, and once only, he spoke to me of his
hopes, when first there was a question of his taking service with
you. I urged him not to do so urged him until I angered him,
and never again would he speak to me on the subject. I knew
nothing of what he was doing, but I lived in dread. I suspect-
ed that he was betraying your interests, and I knew not which I

68o THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

feared most his conviction of treachery or his success. I could
not sleep at night for thinking and watching, and so it came to
pass that I saw you when you went by on that night. The
sight of you seemed to confirm my worst fears, and trusting to
the help of God, I took the short path up the mountain, hoping
to arrive before you, warn Fernando, and avert the terrible con-
sequences which must follow, I feared, a meeting between you.
But I was too late for this you were already there when I ar-
rived. So I could do nothing but wait O Mother of God ! in
what heart-sickening suspense! until Fernando came rushing
down the mountain like a madman, and told me he had left you
injured dying, in the mine ''

Her tones faltered, ceased for a moment she could not con-
tinue. It was Vyner who broke the pause by speaking ; but
his voice sounded strangely different from that in which he had
spoken before.

" And then you went down into that dark and dangerous
shaft to save me ! Did you not think that it might be better
and safer for the man you loved to leave me there to die?"

There was something pathetic, though not reproachful, in the
glance of the dark eyes as they met his own. " I only thought,"
she said, "that I would willingly die myself to save you, and to
atone for the great wrong that had been done you. And when
I asked you to meet me here, it was to tell you this stoi
that you might understand a little how Fernando .was tempted
to so base an act."

" I can understand a man being tempted to anything for lov<
of you ! " said Vyner, as if the words were wrung from him.

" I forced him to return to the mine the next day," she went
on, as if eager to- end her story, " because if he had stayed
away he would at once have been identified as your assailant.
He was loath to go, but for his father's sake he compelled him-
self to do so. When you are able to return to the mine, he wil
leave it at once. All is over. He has lost everything. I hope,
therefore, that you will be generous and spare him as much as
possible that you will continue to preserve the secrecy

" You have my promise," Vyner interposed hoarsely. " It was
given you not for a week, a month, a year but for my life.
Your cousin is safe from me. But God of heaven! how a
you say that he has lost everything when he still has you ? "

" No," she said quietly, " he has me no longer. All is
an end between us. I am going away it is likely that I shall
never come back. But before going, I wished to tell you this

1892.] THE LOST LODE. 68 1

that you might understand and I wished also to thank you for
the great generosity of your silence."

" You shame me when you speak to me in that manner," he
said. " But for you my lips would have been sealed in an eter-
nal silence. Could I do less, then, than I have done even if
I did not love you ? But I do love you with all the passion of
my soul you must know and feel that. What is your childish
romance with your cousin to me ? You have found him un-
worthy, you have given him up. Guadalupe, come, then, to me !
come and bless my life with your love, for I tell you that I
cannot live without you."

" Oh, yes, senor !" she said with almost tender sadness, " you
will live very well without me. For, indeed, I think we should
prove very unlike, you and I and when you go back to your
own country you will feel this. I should be as alien to your
country, your ideas, your life, as you are to my country, my
life, and my religion. Still I know that love can build a bridge
over greater differences than these. But I do not love you, seftor.
I have loved only Fernando all my life. And although he has
killed that love, I cannot put another in his place. I have
been through dark and bitter waters since the night when I met
him flying with your blood upon his soul ; but now the worst
is over and my way is clear. I am going to offer my heart to
God, if he will accept it. If not, I shall find work to do in the
world. But with love, as I have known it, I am done for ever.
Speak to me of it no more."

He looked at her with an expression of mingled anguish and
despair. Never before, in all his spoiled life, had he felt so
hopeless, never before realized that something opposed him
stronger than any force which he could bring to bear against it.
Given a woman of the world of his own world and he would
have known well what to say in such a case ; but what could he
say to this girl who had been moulded by influences so alien
to any he had known, and in whose beautiful eyes all fires
of earthly passion seemed indeed for ever quenched ? He
could only put out his hand with a great and bitter cry of
yearning.

" Guadalupe," he said, " you break my heart ! I have hoped
so much, so much and now you tell me that there is no
.hope!"

"None from me, senor," she answered very gently. "But re-
member that I shall never forget my debt of gratitude to you,
and that as long as I live your name will always have a place

682 THE LOST LODE. [Feb.,

in my prayers. Take again my heart's best thanks, and now
Adiosr

The sweet and solemn farewell was still sounding in his ears
as he left the room, and still before his eyes he saw for how many
a long day would he not continue to see ! the last picture of
Guadalupe, standing in the dim light of the old monastic chamber,
with the white crucifix outlined against the wall behind her
graceful head.

The cura, pacing to and fro in the corridor, breviary in hand,
met him with something of compassion in his dark, gentle glance.
Perhaps the white face of the young man told its own story to
those observant eyes.

tf You will rest a little longer, seftor," he said kindly, " before
going out again into the sun ? And a glass of wine "

But Vyner declined these friendly offers. " The sun matters
nothing, seftor," he said a little grimly. " It is necessary that I
should return to my house. I have many preparations to make.
I am leaving for England immediately."

" It is best," said the cura. " You will find that when you are
once at home, your wound will cure very speedily."

Was there a double meaning in his speech ? Vyner did not
know. But these words too remained with him, as he passed
from the cool, shaded court, with its fountain and doves, its
blooming flowers and ascetic inscriptions, to the white glare and
dust of the street beyond.

CHRISTIAN REID.

Salisbury, N. C.

1892.] SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY. '683

SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY.*

FELLOW-CATHOLICS AND FRIENDS :

It would have given me a long-wished-for gratification had I
been able to accept the kind proposal, which I owe, like so much
other kindness, to Father Elliott that I should attend this great
meeting of American Catholic writers and readers. But I am
kept in my own corner by various duties ; and will therefore ask
leave to submit, in such manner as I may, a few suggestions on
the method of our literary propaganda. I speak as to laymen,
without touching, though I should be the last to forget it, on
that obligation of directly explaining and inculcating the dogmas
of the Faith, which is the pastor's prerogative. Father Hecker
that illustrious son of the American Church has called your
task in literature an Apostolate. " He believed," says his biog-
rapher, " in types, as he believed in pulpits." Let me add to
this excellent saying, that the printing-press has become the
tallest pulpit in the world. It preaches, not once a week, but
from day to day, from hour to hour. The great literary fact of
our time is Journalism. But when I am asked which is likely to
be the most successful method of exercising the Apostolate to
which you are called, I answer that for a long time it must be
the indirect method. And now let me explain my meaning.

A Catholic audience, numbering millions, you have in America.
And, though it will be allowed that, from the circumstances of
their history, they are not the most given to reading of Ameri-
cans, yet they do read and will read. Most true. But it does
not follow that they will read, chiefly or entirely, magazines,
pamphlets, and volumes addressed to themselves by their own
writers. If they do as they OUGHT so much the better. God
speed them on that excellent way ! Judging, however, from
English experience, I must fear that a publicist who depended
solely on his Catholic brethren for support, would run some risk
of financial disaster. From which undoubted fact I draw this
conclusion, that when a Catholic writer means to succeed in his
profession, and to make a living as well as a name which he
has every right to do he must widen his outlook, and turn like

* Read at the Convention of the Apostolate of the Press.
VOL. LIV. 44

684 SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY. [Feb.,

others to the general public. The men and women among us
who have gained celebrity never did so by addressing a home-
circle. In every branch of literature we have worthy representa-
tives. But when a man succeeds in journalism, romance, or phi-
losophy, he does so, not simply as a Catholic, but on his own
account, as recognizable by his genius or talent, and as depend-
ing on himself for the influence he wields.

Here I see an opportunity of doing good on the very largest
scale. I do not ask such men to preach Christian dogma out
of season, or to assume the office of theologians. But, leav-
ing aside direct attempts at controversy, how much can they not
achieve by a careful choice of materials, by sound healthy criti-
cism of what is deleterious in the prevailing fashions of literature,
and by merely putting good work in the place of bad ? When
they have the ear of the public, they are, to a remarkable ex-
tent, their own masters. For, note well, it is not the millions
who insist on their teachers in the daily and weekly press be-
coming purveyors to them of what is base and corrupting. The
demand has been artificially stimulated by the supply, not the
supply furnished on demand. Healthy reading is welcomed by
those laboring classes which, as time goes on, will prove, more
and more, to be the best patrons of literature. No doubt, if
they are tempted with garbage, many of them will be poisoned.
But the temptation, I repeat, comes from the manufacturer of
the devil's wares, and not from the public. If there is a shame
clinging to much modern journalism, it should be laid at the
door of the journalist and his paymaster. Give the people
wholesome bread ; they will be only too glad to find the taste
of it in their mouths. That is what I believe.

Moreover, the thing can be done. Vice is neither amusing
nor exhilarating. There is nothing bright in the vulgar, nau-
seous details which fill column after column of our miserable
" first-class dailies," whose custom it is to pollute the air of
London and New York, breeding on all sides a moral plague.
"Yet," I shall be reminded, "they sell by the hundred thou-
sand." Of course they do, exactly as the vile furniture, made
under a sweating contract in the Curtain Road at the East End,
is sold in fashionable stores for want of something better. I do
not say that this abomination can be healed by direct preaching.
But I do say that every one of our journalists should set his
face against it. Many of us can, by using tact and judgment,
prevent some of the mischief. And all, if they will keep their

1892.] SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY. 685

own work uncontaminated, may do their share 'in proving that
wit and wisdom, in Lord Beaconsfield's happy phrase, are " on
the side of the angels." They will be helping on the day of re-
form when journalism shall be no longer what it now is an
open sewer, offensive to eye and nostril, the great standing dis-
grace of a reading age.

Catholic writers abound in this department ; and I feel justi-
fied, therefore, in dwelling on the responsibilities they incur
whenever they omit an occasion of withstanding the enemy who
is called Belial, and who now stalks abroad as though the world
belonged to him. The command which St. Paul gave us long
ago has not lost its credentials : " Finally, brethren, whatsoever
things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things
are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any
virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." A
very precise definition of what modern journalism is not, and of
what it steadfastly declines to be ! Here, I say, is occasion for
an Apostolate ; nay, and if any one have the spirit and the cour-
age, for deeds of martyrdom.

But I have no intention of decrying all current literature, as
though it were hopelessly tainted. And in the cheering assur-
ance that God has left Himself a witness among those whom it
illustrates and who give it a corresponding worth, I would ask our
Catholic friends to cultivate the art of criticism, sifting out the
chaff from the wheat, burning what is evil, and spreading abroad
whatever they find of good. This, let me say, is an undertaking
as difficult as it is necessary. It requires an extensive knowledge
of modern modes of thought, combined with an accurate and
sure grasp of the Catholic teaching. For fifty men who have
learned their faith, and know it thoroughly, there may not be
one who can describe without mistake the relation of other
creeds to his own. Differences of language, of bringing up, of
association, thrust themselves in at every step ; and the hardest
of all things may be to ascertain what precisely is the point to be
argued. Yet that point will often be of the most vital consequence.
Now, here is a demand for what I often call " the gift of interpre-
tation." Merely to repeat the axioms and first principles of
Catholic tradition, though they contain revealed truth itself, is
lost labor in the province I am considering. Such a method will
persuade nobody except those who are already persuaded. The
teaching must be fitted to the mind which we are bent upon en-

686 SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY. [Feb.,

lightening. Yet it must be so fitted as to remain true and sound
Catholic doctrine. It must be neither distorted, nor minimized,
nor explained away. And when I say "Catholic doctrine," I
include all the truths of Theism, and the high and beautiful
philosophy, whether of art or of nature, implied in our creed or
issuing out of it. You perceive at once how promising, yet how
full of difficulty, and even of danger, is the path to which I
would direct your attention. It is the time, not of a seeming
reconciliation between light and darkness; but of .the dove-tailing,
so to speak, of new truths into the old the translation of Chris-
tian principles into a language suited to these times ; and a
manly, earnest, and generous effort to baptize the nineteenth
century into the Gospel of Christ.

The manner of accomplishing this enterprise I would term " se-
lective criticism." Not " eclectic," observe ; for " eclecticism " is to
be " carried about by every wind of doctrine," discerning neither the
true nor the false. We, I repeat, have a standard to go by ; not
of our own invention, but given to us from on High. Therefore,
we should be able to try all things, and to judge them in the
Spirit. We are not to be dazzled, or surprised, or daunted, by
the glamour of knowledge ; or by the pretentious philosophies,
the Utopian systems, that fill the air with storm and confusion
to-day. Ours is the duty, upon us has the burden come of turn-
ing " the hearts of the fathers to the children " and of the chil-
dren to the fathers ; of helping to build up a new world, on
the ruins of many systems it may be, but on the sure foundation
of a living Christian Church that cannot be ruined. Is there a
social ideal, a more humane inspiration, beginning to shape
society anew ? The home of all true ideals is the Catholic
Church. Do we hear of the millions coming up, at last, into the
place of self-government, crying for light and food, asking why
their daily toil is not sweetened by justice and the sense of
brotherhood ? They are the millions of a people who should be
our own ; and to whom we can offer a Gospel of salvation,
social ho less than spiritual, able to lift them up and give them
the best things in this world as in the next ! But we must un-
derstand them, feel with them, and not fear them at all!

Understand them ? It is the first and last word. No great
literature has ever existed which did not come out of the peo-
ple's hearts. By contact with life alone is it possible to live.
Literature is not a thing of libraries, class-rooms, or lecture-halls,
which only the select attend. When it has lasting value, it is

1892.] SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY. 687

the expression of thought too wide and high and simple for any
clique or coterie to have inspired it. The writing of which we
are in need may take any form it will, provided that it is alive ;
no mere rehearsal of dead words, no copying of yesterday, no
talking down as to a childish intelligence, no stupid reiteration
of sentimentalities addressed to the weak-minded and the im-
pressionable. It must ever aim at good sense ; and test itself by
the classics of the world. We do not want a provincial, petty,
and flimsy literature, which to-day is, and to-morrow is deserv-
edly cast into the oven. If, when we turn to our own publica-
tions, they fall below the common level of good work outside,
let us rather take shame to ourselves, and mend our ways, than
foolishly imagine that it is by the grace of God that we are not
like other men. We should be exacting in our demands on all
who write for us, on condition, however, that we remember to
be just and generous in our recompense to them. The Catholic
writer may as fairly claim to live by his toil, as the priest who
ministers at the altar. His duty is not the same, but it is sacred
and religious in the truest sense. Only let him measure it
no longer by the small requisitions made upon him from within,
but by the wants of the age, and by the endless resources of a
church that has lived from the days of the Roman Empire to
lose of expanding and victorious Democracy.

My contention is that we should speak and write as to the
larger world. We are debtors to all men, and -must use style,
language, and reasoning so as to be " understanded of the
>eople." Our message is for to-day. It has not grown old or
>bsolete ; neither will it yield in power and promise to the often-
times vaporous announcements of latter-day prophets, who have
:oined theories out of their brains, but never known how to gov-
jrn a single human creature not even themselves. By an extra-
rdinary good fortune, we Catholics have possessed the greatest
laster of English prose that ever lived I need not say that I
lean John Henry Cardinal Newman. Do we at all fashion
>urselves on the pattern he has left us? Do we cultivate I
forbear to say, imitate, which is a lesser thing, but do we cul-
tivate the spirit of just, discernment, the delicate sympathy, the
:quisite and subtle tact, the devotion to high aims and the
leep sincerity of thought, which gave him so wonderful a charm
in the eyes of his countrymen ? Genius, to be sure, is no in-
heritance ; still, we can learn something of its methods, and en-
deavor- to practise what we learn. It signified little whether

688 SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY. [Feb.,

Cardinal Newman was handling a sacred or a secular theme ; at
all times he captivated his readers by the spirit that was in
him. The atmosphere refreshed them ; the lovely light showed
them a world to which many would .have been otherwise for
ever insensible. His methods were constantly indirect ; but the
music was in that subduing key which the heart knows not how
to resist. Neither was it the priest or the cardinal who wrought
these great things ; it was the MAN. For literature is, in its
very essence, personal and individual. Its power will not be
permanently enhanced by station or title, or anything else beside
its own magic. In this sense, all who attempt literary work are
laymen ; and one may truly speak of the " Republic of Letters."
Rest assured that in the long run it is a man's own personality
which tells, and only that ; his living knowledge of " whatsoever
things are true, and just, and lovely, and of good report." The
vapid or unclean journalism sells for a day or a week ; it sells,
but it does not last. Truth prevails, and men are tired at last
of the lying fictions dinned into their ears, though all the adver-
tisements of all the quacks sing their praise without ceasing.

If, as we believe on such strong and tried grounds, there is
no salvation for mankind except by returning to the New Tes-
tament, here is the task of literature so to let its light shine
before men, in all hues of beauty and graciousness, that the
multitude may be charmed, persuaded, and taught the readiest
way of making it a reality in their life and business. The Cath-
olic Saints have understood, each in his day, how to take to
themselves the three great possessions of the ancient world,
Roman law, Greek philosophy, and the divine oracles of the He-
brew people. There are three great modern possessions Sci-
ence, Literature, and Democracy. Who will show us the good
in them, and teach us to overcome their evil ? Who will enter
into their Providential meaning, discern their true aim and scope,
bring them to the threshold of the Catholic Church, and render
them fit for baptism, for consecration to the service of God and
the brethren? Those who do will be the men of their time-
neither retrograde, nor obscurantist, nor falsely liberal. They will
have the eyes of their understanding en-lightened, and their ears
open to the Divine message, early and late. They will be the
Catholic students of science, the masters in literature, the guides
in politics whom we should pray for. I believe that literature
is a noble calling, .though disgraced by charlatans and time-serv-
ers. I am sure that it was meant to be now, as heretofore, a

1892.] SPEAKING TO THE CENTURY. 689

champion and auxiliary of the faith we all hold dear. I see
that if any man gives himself to it loyally, "not seeking his
own," he may expect much trouble, vexation, and hindrance,
even from those who should know him better. Yet, if I were
called upon to say which is the most effective way of serving
God's cause in our time, I should answer without hesitation,
that the AGE OF READING has come, and that he who would
preach the Catholic Truth must write it but write it for the
multitude, and make himself understood by them. What the
millions need is to be taught ; and what every one needs who
undertakes to teach them, is that gift of sympathy without
which his doctrine will fall on deaf ears. Because modern liter-
ature must be democratic, it ought to be Christian.

So to endeavor that it may become the fitting expression of
a noble Christian commonwealth is, I doubt not, your loftiest
ambition ; as it is, most assuredly, your appointed task.

WILLIAM BARRY.

Dorchester^ near Oxford, England.

690 COLUMBUS. [Feb.,

COLUMBUS.

" MY men and brothers, westward lies our way :"
So spoke Columbus, looking on the sea
Which stretched before him to infinity ;

And while he sailed he wrote these words each day,

As though, " West lies thy course," he heard God say,
With promise of the blessings which should be
When a New World had borne young Liberty,

As fair and fresh as flowers in month of May.

O God-appointed man ! all hail to thee !

Thou other Moses of a chosen race,
Who out of darkness and captivity

Leadest the people from the tyrant's face
To where all men shall equal be and free,

And evil life alone shall be disgrace.

II.

Sail on, Columbus ! sail right onward still,
O'er watery waste of trackless billows sail,
Nor let a doubting race make thy heart fail

Till a New World upglow beneath thy will.

Let storms break forth and driving winds be shrill:
But be thou steadfast when all others quail,
Still looking westward till the night grow pale,

And the long dreamed-of land thy glad eyes fill.

Sailor, still onward sail ! God leads the way
Across the gloomy, fathomless dark sea,

Of man unvisited until thy day,

But which henceforth for the whole world shall be

The road to nobler life and wider sway,
Where tyrants perish and all men are free.

JOHN L. SPALDING.

Peoria, III.

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 691
RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH.

COMPILED FROM OLD JOURNALS AND MEMORANDA.

THERE is a time of life when the memories of youth and
early manhood are more vivid than those of later years. Per-
haps the tablets of memory become so hardened by age that
they cannot receive new impressions ; or, preoccupied by ex-
periences of early life, the mind fails to give that attention to
passing events which is essential to distinct remembrance. Or,
it may be that the perceptions of later life are less distinct be-
cause they are more truthful. In youth one sees many things
as entities which, in maturity, are found to be incomplete. We
deduce effects from causes whose accidents are unperceived ;
whose antecedents are unknown. The experiences of a lifetime
are needed to supplement our observations, before we can rightly
trace the relations of antecedent and consequent events. But
though one should be a prophet or seer to tell how " coming
events cast their shadows before," no mystical lore is needed to
follow a chain of causes and effects, when the connecting links
are seen ; though these are, sometimes, matters of so little in-
trinsic import that their mention may seem to demean the dis-
cussion of great questions of social polity. Such considerations
may, perhaps, suggest a fitting apology for some parts of these
old memoranda ; as well as for treating, in one brief essay, of
matters so incongruous as those included in these recollections
of more than fifty years.

But if what I am writing should chance to be read by fifty
people, how many will judge of its truthfulness from personal
knowledge of our country as it was, and its social conditions as
they were fifty years ago ? To say that what was, then, the
wearisome journey of a week, is now easily accomplished in a
day, is only to contrast the old lumbering stage-coach on a cor-
duroy road, or wallowing through the sands of Carolina, with
the Lightning Express, in describing equal spaces in very un-
equal times. But the companionship of travel, and its wayside
incidents, which made the inland journey something like a re-
connaissance of the country traversed, and a true, though limited,
experience of its social life, are things of the past. We no longer
travel: we go from one part of the country to another.

692 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

My first acquaintance with Florida and "the South" de-
rives a deeper interest, as well as greater accuracy, from later
knowledge of the country and its people. Early impressions are
corrected by subsequent events ; and events are, perhaps, more
justly estimated in the light of antecedent conditions.

The earlier memoranda from which these discursive recollec-
tions are compiled were made when war between the North
and South was regarded as only a possibility of the distant
future : much as we deem an earthquake possible from knowing
the existence of forces that are hidden in the earth.

In attempting to account for the fact of civil war, its histori-
ans seem to forget that " large streams from little fountains
flow "; and seek among antecedent conditions for causes com-
mensurate with the struggle and its results.

In controversies which culminate in war, questions at issue
are magnified in debate ; and new issues are born of contention,
until reconciliation is impossible. Only on the return of peace
can one justly weigh matters in dispute, and rightly distinguish
the causes and occasions of a civil war. Whatever aids to illus-
trate the social conditions of our country, prior to actual war, is
a contribution to its truthful history.

I have met too many Southern men who were faithful to
"the Union," and too many of my own North country who
fought as partisans of secession as well as too many who were
in sympathy with them to be patient of the verbiage about two
peoples, North and South : as if racial and sectional differences
were one. I have sketched only what I have seen, and as I saw
it ; and offer some of the contents of my portfolio in the hope
that, while accepted as truthful sketches of some historic interest,
they may be found significant of an earnest protest against that
sectionalism which would revive dead issues and make them liv-
ing factors in political and social questions of to-day.

If apology be needed for introducing the names of persons
to whose kindness I was so much indebted, I would plead that
in even a partial sketch of Florida as I saw it, fifty years ago,
one could not omit the mention of people any one of whom
might have said of its social conditions Quorum magna pars fui.
As for the rest, I have preserved these sketches for the reason
that they were made : they were interesting to myself. I pub-
lish them in the hope that they may prove interesting to others,
in spite of their incongruous matter.

A desire to preserve the m>emory of ancient monuments
which, in our age and country, are so generally sacrificed from

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 693

motives of utility, may be accepted as apology for the description
of one relic of ancient occupation which has wholly disappeared.

It is nearly fifty-three years since I left West Point, for ser-
vice in Florida. At Philadelphia I joined an officer, of my own
corps, who was destined to the same service. We were under
orders to " report for duty " at Tallahassee. As the yellow fever
was then epidemic at various points near the coast, in South
Carolina and Georgia, we had been directed to take the inland
route, via Columbia and Augusta. South of Baltimore there
were no completed lines of railway. The " stage route " was
through Washington ; Fredericksburg, Richmond, Petersburg,
Va.; Warrenton, Raleigh, and Fayetteville, N. ,C.; Cheraw, Cam-
den, and Columbia, S. C.; Augusta, Hawkinsville, and Bainbridge,
Ga.; and thence through Quincy to Tallahassee, Florida. At
Columbia we were detained one day ; at Augusta, two days ;
and at Bainbridge, one night. With these exceptions, and the
halts for meals and to " change horses," the journey was con-
tinuous from Washington to Tallahassee.

The inland journey of 1838 was so different from that of 1891
that, in description, the one is a story of adventure ; the other
but a statement of fact.

In the few larger towns on the route "hotels" were plente-
ously, if not always elegantly, served. But the wayside, stations,
where horses were changed and meals were bolted, are a mem-
ory of breakfasts, dinners, and suppers all alike greasy, dirty,
and in every way unsavory.

September is the " sickly season " in the South Atlantic and
Gulf States. Vegetation, ripened in early summer, rapidly decays
in the alternate rains and stifling heats of early autumn. By
day, the sun's heat is intensified and blinding by reflection from
white, sandy roads. At night, the air becomes damp and so
charged with mephitic vapors that travelling is only a little less
perilous to health than sleeping by the wayside.

The experiences of the road were all novelties to me ; some
of them unpleasant surprises as well. I had pictured the sunny
South as something like the green fields of the more level dis-
tricts of the North ; but studded with flowers of richer hue than
the white and yellow of the daisies and buttercups which indi-
cate infertility or exhaustion in Northern fields. There were
flowers, but less abundant and less cared for than in the colder
North, where flowers and fruits are products of skilled labor.
Green fields and velvet lawns were nowhere seen. It was a dis-
appointment ; but disappointments did not end here.

694 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

After leaving Augusta, the first town noted on my Traveller's
Map was Louisville. It proved to be nothing more than a few
scattered houses ; not numerous enough for a village, nor clus-
tered as a hamlet, but a town in virtue of a court-house, a
tavern, and a grocery. Its importance was seen in its environs
more than in the town itself ; for it was surrounded by large
cotton plantations and corn-fields. The traveller is sometimes
puzzled to learn the names of towns and villages along his
route. Here the puzzle was reversed. The Traveller s Map
gave names, but it was sometimes hard to identify the town to
which a name belonged. Now it appeared as a " grocery and
post-office," and rudely built stables for horses. Then five or
six log-houses, a blacksmith's forge, another " grocery and post-
office," and a wayside eating-house for travellers, where meals of
uniform quality were served at the uniform price of fifty cents.

I had seen nothing of Southern life before making this jour-
ney from Baltimore to Tallahassee. Though prepared to find rude
dwellings in the Pine Barrens, and on new plantations, I had ex-
pected to see indications of wealth and cultivated taste in the
residences on older estates. In this, too, I was disappointed.
Indeed, the appearance of the planter's dwelling was anything
but palatial or elegant. And the ground and shrubberies, where
such things had been attempted, were not " such as Shenstone
might have envied." The aspect of the cotton-growing region
was certainly unattractive. The cotton-fields, enclosed by rudely
made rail fences, seemed more like uncompleted clearings than
cultivated land. Only the undergrowth had been cut down and
grubbed, to give space for planting. The larger trees, girdled
to stop their growth and insure decay, were left standing, so
that the plantation presented an unsightly appearance, like that
of a growth of fire-weed between the charred stumps of
half-burnt trees. A sight of the gin-house and cotton-bales was
needed to suggest that cotton-growing was anything more than
a rude industry. Nor was there anything in the appearance of
the plantation in keeping with the boast that " cotton is king "
Yet the great body of our Northern people, who passed their
lives in toil in the work-shop, on the farm, on the ocean, or
wherever hope promised reward to patient industry accepted
this foolish aphorism ; not, perhaps, as literal truth, but as indi-
cating the supposed truth that the great financial factor in our
social economy was the product of slave labor.

Our Southern planters, 'on summer visits to Northern cities, to
Niagara, to Saratoga, and the various seaside and mountain re-

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 695

sorts, sometimes anticipating the profits of their growing crops,
spent them as lavishly as if possessors of princely wealth. Flat-
tered by obsequious attentions of innkeepers and shopmen, and
misled by the facilities for obtaining ready money on the credit
of cotton not yet grown sometimes not planted it is not
strange that they came to believe that " cotton is king," and the
royalty was their own. Nor is it more strange that, throughout
the North, there was an impression that "the South" was the
abode of luxurious wealth, and what parvenus and social aspi-
rants call aristocracy.

In the North, freemen labored with their own hands ; in the
South, the negroes labored, and freemen lived on the fruits of
their toil. There was something in the institution which died in
the civil war of 1861 that recalls a story told of a young
Prince Esterhazy. Hearing a school-fellow, in England, boast
that his father had on his estate five thousand sheep, the young
prince silenced the boaster by asserting that his father had five
thousand shepherds ! Not the sheep but the shepherds denoted
the grandeur of his possessions. Thus it was in the Cotton
States fifty years ago. In the Gulf States and the Territory of
Florida land was abundant and cheap. The ownership of
two or three thousand acres gave neither dignity nor commercial
credit. The cabins in the negro quarter were more significant
than the acres in the plantation. How many " hands " does he
own ? was the question whose answer determined rank among
planters and the advances to be risked on the future crop of
cotton. Nor was that all that the population of the " quarters "
involved. The " peculiar institution," while directly affecting
industrial and financial interests in the South, was really affiliated
to both the social and political economy of the whole country.
It tended to degrade the free husbandman and the mechanic to
the level of the slave ; and gave to slavery a potent voice in
the legislation of the country.

On the third morning after leaving Augusta we stopped at
Hawkinsville for breakfast. I have no need of reference to
memoranda to recall the ramshackle tavern at which we were
set down. I cannot forget its lack of cleanliness ; the grimy
table, and greasy bread and bacon ; the muddy coffee, and the
buzzing flies : nothing hot but the burning sun of a September
morning ! I had never been used to luxurious living, but even
the sauce of hunger could not provoke an appetite for such a
breakfast. My companion, more philosophical, or blessed with

696 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

sterner resolution, rebuked what he called fastidiousness with
" Why don't you bolt it as I do ? "

Between Hawkinsville and Bainbridge the road was generally
level and smooth. Its longer stretches through piney woods
were what is called " natural road " i.e., trees had been blazed
to mark the route ; and if the way became obstructed by fallen
trees, instead of removing the obstacle, the road was changed to
avoid it. The resinous odor of the pines gave fragrance to the
air by day and night, and there was little undergrowth to stifle
its lightest breath. I remember but one slight accident on this
part of our journey. Some time between nine and ten o'clock
at night, when bowling along the level road, we were roused
from unquiet sleep by a violent shock. The six inside passen-
gers became strangely intermingled, and the coach lay quietly
on its side. The horses were detached by the upsetting of the
coach and disappeared in the darkness, leaving six weary
travellers nine miles from the nearest station where another
coach could be procured. This accident was due to a basket of
edibles and potables left on the roof of our coach within easy
reach of the coachmen there were two on the box which
caused the coach to swerve from the track and collide with a
stump by the roadside. The result was a matter of course.
We kindled a fire in the woods, and whiled away our vigil in
discussing what the accident had left in our basket.

The next night we slept at Bainbridge. There we said good-
by to our fellow-travellers, who were en route to Mississippi, and
in the morning continued our journey through Quincy to Talla-
hassee. We arrived in time to rid ourselves of the dust of the
road and make some changes of apparel before dinner. // was
sumptuous in contrast with the corn-bread and [ fried bacon
which had been our chief subsistence after leaving Augusta.

At the hotel in Tallahassee we met the engineer officer to
whom we were to report for duty, as well as the paymaster and
quartermaster of the post. Friends and their friends began to
call and proffer civilities, and in a few days we were at home
in the Florida capital. Some weeks were passed "awaiting
orders." On their receipt the two seniors of our party went to
serve with the " army in the field " more accurately, in the
woods leaving me, the junior, in charge of the construction of
a road from Tallahassee to lola. A few days afterwards General
Taylor came to the capital, when I asked for an escort to en-
able me to commence the work to which I had been assigned.
He very promptly refused it, because he "had no men to

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 697

spare " and knew that the road was " not needed." At the
same time he relieved me of responsibility for delay by forbid-
ding any attempt at surveys until an escort could be given. So
I was left at Tallahassee for several months, with nothing to do
but explore middle Florida and enjoy the hospitalities of a peo-
ple whose friendliness I have always held in grateful remem-
brance. This was the beginning of my acquaintance with Flori-
da. In 1852 I was again on duty in the State, and made pre-
liminary surveys for a ship-canal to connect the navigable waters
of the St. John's River with the Gulf of Mexico. In the last
year of the civil war, 1865, I was in command of the "district
of Florida." Thus I have had ample opportunities to become
acquainted with the country, its topography, its resources, and
its people as they were " before the war " and at its close.

In 1838 the population of the Territory was not far from
fifty thousand. About one-half of this population were negro
slaves. Though St. Augustine was founded in 1565, more than
forty years prior to the English settlements in north and south
Virginia the Sagadahock and Jamestown settlements and Pen-
sacola was an old Spanish settlement, the Territory beyond
their immediate vicinity had all the characteristics of a newly-
settled country. Perhaps half the total population was settled
in and around Tallahassee, St. Augustine, Pensacola, and Key
West. The other half was made up of planters and their color-
ed people, who, with wide intervals, occupied the northern parts
of the Territory between the Atlantic coast and the southwest
corner of Alabama. The interior of the peninsula was almost
unexplored. The Seminole and Appalachicola Indians occupied
or roamed over it and along the borders of the Appalachicola
River. Even as recently as 1838 few of the Anglo-American
people were natives of the Territory. The native whites were
generally of Spanish or Minorcan parentage, the survival of the
old Spanish colonization. The larger plantations were held by
emigrants from Maryland, Virginia, the Carolinas, arid Kentucky,
though the North was represented among the planters as well
as among the professional and trading people of the commu-
nity. Few of the planters were rich, though in the receipt of
large incomes. Their wooden dwellings were very plain, many
of them rude in outward appearance ; yet there was much of
elegant refinement, as well as sumptuous living, in those planta-
tion houses, whose architecture rarely equalled that of the sim-
ple farm-house in New England. Not unfrequently they were
built of unhewn timber, and their interiors made decent by

698 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

paper-hangings on canvas stretched over the rough walls and
ceilings. But their tables were* well, often elegantly, furnished,
and their hospitality was unbounded.

One of my classmates at West Point, a Floridian, was killed
in the first year of the Seminole War. Shortly after my arrival
at Tallahassee I received a visit from his brother, Major George
Ward, a large cotton-planter, whose place was some few miles
from town. I gladly accepted an invitation to spend a week at
his plantation, and afterward to accompany him on a round of
visits at places to which I had been invited. Some of these
visits were limited to a single day ; others extended to a week.
If the weather permitted, there was sometimes deer-hunting in
the neighboring forest. After dinner the evening was given to
conversation, music, or other amusement. A rainy day was de-
voted to letter-writing, reading, and sometimes long conversa-
tions on the relations between North and South, but always
with a certain reticence. The quiet simplicity of this life on
the plantation was something rarely found among commercial
people, and impossible amid the buzzing spindles of our North-
ern factories and the hurry of business that has no rest.

On these plantations the labor system of the South was
doubtless seen at its best. There was neither cruelty nor over-
work. Its objectionable features were rather negatively than posi-
tively wrong. The negro as he was, a slave, was well treated.
But then he was capable of moral and social improvement in-
compatible with " the institution." He was better off than his
African progenitors had been, but not as well off as he was
capable of being made. His claims to justice had no efficient
sanction, and the law of charity in his regard was lame and in-
complete. It was not " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy-
self," but " Thou shalt love thy negro as thine own." But when
the Southern master was reproached for persistent wrong to an
inferior race, it was not without reason that he pointed to the
abodes of poverty and foul corruption in Northern cities. We
give moral and mental culture (sic) to qualify slaves of our own
race for service ; and when, wearied and worn, they may refuse
to serve, that is their freedom. Go into some of the great
bazaars and see the scores of saleswomen condemned to stand,
sometimes forbidden to sit for momentary rest, each doing her
allotted task under the eye of a master or mistress. They wear
good clothes ; their service requires it. They get food to eat
and clothes to wear, rarely more, for long hours of exhaustive

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 699

labor, until health fails. Then they go to their poor homes, if
they have any, or to the charity hospital to die. A few may
develop marked ability for trade, and, if their employer be ap-
preciative and just, may achieve success. Very many of them
are well-clad, overworked slaves. Freedom coerced by necessity
is not much better than obedience to a master who would be
obliged to care for the servant in sickness and old age. The
retort of tu quoque cannot even palliate a wrong ; but it serves to
recall Our Lord's Sermon on the Mount, and its rebuke of those
who are blind to their own wrong actions : " Thou hypocrite !
cast out first the beam out of thy own eye, and then thou shalt
see to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye."

Our round of visits ended at Wirtland. There can be no
impropriety in the mention of names that are historical. Wil-
liam Wirt, the great jurist and statesman, died in 1834. Mrs.
Wirt's brothers, Colonels John and Robert Gamble of Virginia,
had acquired large plantations in Florida, and this, perhaps, led
to her becoming a resident in the Territory. At the time of
my visit Mrs. Wirt and her immediate family, including her
son-in-law, Lieutenant (the late Admiral) Goldsborough, had been
for some years settled upon the plantation of Wirtland, some
thirty miles from Tallahassee. To this admirable family I was
indebted for much hospitality and kindness. The visit at Wirt-
land was prolonged by the occurrence of a storm which made
travelling impracticable. When the weather permitted, we re-
turned to my friend's plantation, and thence to Tallahassee.

Though forbidden to survey the route from Tallahassee to
lola, I was at liberty to explore the vicinity of Tallahassee.
Armed with gun and sketch-book, I made frequent excursions
toward the north and west, within a radius of four or five miles
from town. Birds were plenty, and if they were too wild, or
the sportsman unlucky which sometimes happened I could
sketch one of the pretty lakes that nestle among the low hills
in Leon County. In one of these excursions I came upon a
spring of clear water at the foot of a bluff, close by the road
leading to Quincy. Climbing to its top, some forty feet above
the road, I saw what seemed to be the remains of an old fort
or redoubt. The plan of the work was a square of about one
hundred and fifty feet, with a small bastion at one of the angles.
The walls had been formed of adobes large sun-dried bricks
but these were so deeply buried beneath the accumulations of
many years that now they appeared to be only mounds of hard
earth, perhaps ten feet wide across the top, and two or three
VOL. LIV. 45

700 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

feet higher than the terre-plein. On two sides the outer faces
of the work were flush with the steep slope of the bluff. On
the other two the ditch was yet some two or three feet deep,
though nearly filled with the drift under which time had failed
to hide this work of a prehistoric race. The old fort, and the
land for miles westward, was covered by what seemed a virgin
forest. Trees, whose naked stumps were three to four feet in
diameter, had grown and decayed upon the mounds to which
time had reduced its walls. Though but a few yards distant
from a post-road, the old fort was completely hidden from it by
the foliage of shrubs and trees. The prolongation of the ditch,
on its northwest side, crossed the road, and was traceable for
miles beyond it ; even to the Oklokony River. South and west
of the old fort was an unbroken forest. It was not dense
enough to hide the surface of the ground ; and there was little
undergrowth. In tracing the prolongation of the ditch, which
seemed to have been a covered way to the fort, I noticed a
slight depression in the surface of the ground, like a road-way,
about thirty feet wide, and extending as far as the ground was
visible through the open wood. Other depressions, parallel to
this, were discovered at regular intervals ; and others, again,
crossing the first at right angles. Obviously, it was the site of a
town covering a large area, but whose history no man can tell.

The fort, the town, and the sunken road, or covered way, be-
tween the fort and the Oklokony River, were probably the work
of the same people : perhaps the same who made the earthen
vessels ornamented like those found in Mexico and Central
America, fragments of which have been turned up by the
plough in middle Florida. The forest, under whose successive
growths they were long hidden, had protected these relics from
the action of winds and rains. Thus sheltered, in a climate
where the ground is never frozen, and where deciduous trees
are rare, its surface was almost unchanged by time.

This old redoubt was known as " the old Spanish fort," " San
Luis or San Leon." The Spaniards may have occupied it
they probably did but they did not build it ; or a town larger
than St. Augustine or Pensacola, of whose existence their chroni-
cles make no mention. Nor did they make a covered way, six
to eight miles long, to connect it with the Oklokony, and con-
sider the work of too little importance to be even mentioned in
the records of their occupation of Florida. These monuments,
imperfect as they were, and the fragments sometimes complete
vessels of pottery, such as the Spaniards did not, and the In-

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 701

dians could not make, all point to the ancient occupation of the
country by a people of whom we know nothing beyond these
and similar remains, which, like the gigantic bird-tracks discov-
ered in the sand-stone of the upper Connecticut valley, denote
the existence of some extinct species ; but cannot tell us pre-
cisely what they were or when they lived.

I had become so interested in these traces of ancient occu-
pation that I attempted a topographical sketch of the old fort
and its site. But without assistance, or proper instruments for
the purpose, it was impossible to do more than roughly sketch
the plan of the work and the features of the ground immedi-
ately adjacent. I accepted the vague tradition of "the old
Spanish fort," and made it the subject of a short fancy sketch,
"A Leaf from Florida," published in the Knickerbocker Maga-
zine in 1840 or 1841. When, at the close of the civil war, in
1865, I again visited Tallahassee, I found that the site of the
old fort, and the land around it, had long been a cotton-field.
The plough had done what the winds and rains of centuries had
failed to accomplish, and no trace of parapet or ditch, of
covered way or ancient streets, remained. That such things had
been was barely remembered, that was all. Even the meagre
revelations of the plough had disappeared.

Nothing authentic was left to aid conjecture as to the builders
of the old redoubt. Whether the followers of Ponce de Leon or
Fernando de Soto had made or occupied it ; or whether this, as
well as the old pottery sometimes discovered, was to be ascribed to
a more ancient race the Toltecs or the Aztecs, or some kindred
people ; the Chickemecs and Nahuas, sometimes called the " first
occupants of America " ; or the " Olmecs and Xicalancas, who
migrated to Mexico, from the direction of Florida, about
eighteen centuries ago," and " whose relics have been found in
Florida and elsewhere in the Mississippi valley " may, perhaps,
be proved from other sources. The local evidence that once ex-
isted here, and should have been carefully preserved, had wholly
disappeared.

For myself, the result of these explorations was a severe
chill which threatened to entomb me among the relics of
the ancient occupants of Florida. I became violently ill, and
for weeks, as I afterwards learned, hovered between life and
death.

But there may be compensations for every ill, and mine
were found in the untiring kindness of a people who became
my friends because I needed friendship. The pains of illness

702 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

may not always give painful recollections. One cannot recall
the tender solicitude of comparative strangers, when life itself
depended on their watchful care, without grateful emotion. It is
for this that Florida and Tallahassee have been to me, for more
than fifty years, synonyms of benevolence and friendship. The
young physician who, in the absence of an army surgeon, be-
came my medical attendant as well as friend ; the paymaster,
Major Mapes, and the quartermaster,* who, busied with official
duties by day, acted the part of nurses by night ; and the citi-
zens whose friendly attentions were so grateful to a mere youth,
far from home and kindred, when told that he was about to die,
all seem present with me as I write these reminiscences of my
first service in Florida.

The restraints which propriety imposes on the conversations
of new acquaintances are all relaxed when the one has fallen
by the wayside and the other is the Good Samaritan. As the
recipient of their generous kindness when " I was sick and they
visited me," I became more intimately acquainted with some of
the notable people of Tallahassee than would have been possi-
ble in the ordinary intercourse of social life. One of these, Mr.
Francis Eppes, a gentleman who was my senior by more than
twenty years, visited me daily for several weeks. As I was in
a hotel crowded with guests, it was hardly possible to have those
attentions which are so much needed by an invalid. Every day
such delicacies as my condition required were sent from his own
table. And when returning strength permitted, his carriage and
servants were in attendance for my use. One incident which, at
its occurrence, caused me a good deal of chagrin, I recall as
apropos to matters to be mentioned in this essay. We had been
speaking of books and their authors ; periodical literature and
its writers ; when I asked my friend if he had seen the New
York Review, of which only three or four numbers had then ap-
peared. He had, but " did not like it." " That seems strange,"
I replied, " for you are certainly a conservative in politics,
and an Episcopalian in religion." He had " seen only the first
number ; and that did not please " him. " Oh ! " I said, " it was
that first number that delighted me. It was refreshing to see
justice done to that old rascal, Jefferson ! " " Will you stop
there?" said my friend. "You are speaking of my grandfather."
I blush as I write this. And I am sure that I should have
blushed more then had my long illness left in me blood enough
to mantle my cheeks with shame. I begged his forgiveness,

* The late General Heintzelman.

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 703

adding that even the prejudices of education could not excuse
me, a boy, for speaking in such terms of so great a man.
"That is enough," he replied, smiling; "I understand it. You
have been taught to believe in the political perfection of John
Adams ; and, of course, to think ill of my grandfather. I
will tell you what is not generally known of the relations be-
tween those two great men. They and their families were very
intimate friends. My mother was for years under the maternal
care of Mrs. Adams ; and loved her as a second mother. There
was a breach of friendly relations, caused by partisan politicians
during the canvass for the Presidency, in 1801, but that was
made up in after years." My friend was still my friend. He,
the Christian gentleman, forgave my pretentious folly ; but I
could not so readily forgive myself.

The breach of friendship to which reference was made is a
notable instance of the mi'schief wrought by unscrupulous parti-
sans and a licentious press. A " Republican " newspaper pub-
lished certain injurious statements adverse to President Adams,
which, in the heat of the canvass, Mr. Jefferson did not think it
incumbent on himself to contradict, though he knew them to be
false. This caused a breach of those fraternal relations which
had long subsisted between the two families, and was the occa-
sion of a severe letter from Mrs. Adams to Mr. Jefferson, which
is found among the published Letters of Abigail Adams. It was
more than twenty years afterwards that Mr. Jefferson made
the long journey from Monticello to Quincy to become
thoroughly reconciled to his old friend and co-laborer. How
many such journeys might well be made by early friends and
later enemies North and South !

Another of the notables of Florida who, in his charity,
honored me with frequent visits was the " Old Governor."
Governor Duval was so widely known that, but for the lapse of
time, any description of him, or his characteristics, might seem
like a repetition of more than twice-told tales. He was the pre-
decessor of General Call, the actual governor in 1838-9. He was
a native of Richmond, Va. When a very young man he went
to Kentucky, where he became a successful lawyer ; and whence,
in after years, he was appointed governor of the Territory of
Florida. Of the motives of his migration to Kentucky he had
many entertaining stories. One of them was given in the
Knickerbocker Magazine, some forty years ago, as the " Adven-
tures of Ralph Ringwood." But, admitting their less elegant
diction, the few yet living who have listened to the old gover-

704 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

nor's stories of adventure, as they came from his own lips, will
agree with me that the "Adventures of Ralph Ringwood,"
though written by Washington Irving, are but a feeble para-
phrase of one of his numerous stories.

When my convalescence was so assured as to justify making
short excursions, my good friend Major Ward again took me to
his hospitable home. Hospitality is a word which may denote,
but fails to express, the considerate attentions given to an in-
valid so lately a stranger. The major was not very much my
senior ; so that our conversations in the long winter evenings
were free from that didactic element which is often a bar to the
frank expression of thought and opinion, and sometimes gives
rise to unpleasant disputes. In politics he was a Whig. But as
that name was taken to designate, various shades of opposition to
the then dominant party, it were, perhaps, more accurate to say
that he was an anti-Democrat. He had recently been elected a
delegate to some convention I forget its object : possibly, to
frame a constitution for the prospective State in opposition to
a gentleman of the party then in power. The Whigs and Dem-
ocrats were of nearly equal strength in the town. The planters
were of such well-known and decided political v opinions that
canvassing among them was useless. But there were many
voters among the small planters, the " poor whites," and the
" Crackers "; the election might depend on their votes. Among
them the canvassing was vigorous. Somewhat to the surprise of
both parties, " the major " was elected by a handsome majority.
The candidates were personal friends, and there had been a
good deal of chaffing between them about their prospects of
success. " But," said the major, " I secured the ' Cracker ' vote by
acting on right views of human nature. Everybody knew that
Auston was a gentleman. But he went through the county on
his sorriest old horse ; his saddle and bridle, and his own dress,
suited to the quality of the constituency, but not befitting the
canvasser. That told the people that he thought it necessary to
disguise himself, or to descend to reach their level. They were
too clear-sighted to be either flattered or deceived in that way.
I followed him in my new carriage, with my best horses ;
coachman and footman, as well as their master, wearing their
best. I met the independent voters as political equals, in spite
of the inequalities of fortune. They understood that I did not
think it necessary to stoop in soliciting their support, and they
elected me. I knew they would."

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 705

From Major Ward's I went, on the invitation of another of
my West Point classmates, to the plantation of his father, Colonel
Robert Gamble. My old classmate had given me a cordial wel-
come on my arrival at Tallahassee, and now, when the diver-
sions attending easy journeys, and change of air and scene, were
advised as means of regaining health, I was glad to accept the
renewal of an invitation that had lapsed through my long ill-
ness. Colonel Gamble was a gentleman of ample means, who
had seen much of the world at home and abroad ; whose wide
acquaintance with public affairs, and with men of note in a
former generation, made his conversation both interesting and
instructive. My stay at his , plantation was, in every way, de-
lightful. His house more properly his houses had apparently
been commenced to make a temporary dwelling for the pioneers
of the family, when the land was first opened to cultivation.
Its outward appearance was so rude, and in such contrast with
the refinement of generous living within, that a description of
the plantation home of Weelaunee seems worth preserving. A
two-storieS, " double pen " cabin, with a wide passage-way or hall
through the middle of the lower story, gave three rooms on the
floor above. The imperfect joints between the rough-hewn logs
of which the walls were made were filled with strips of wood
and coarse mortar. The fire-places and lower portion of the
chimneys at either end of the structure were built of rough
blocks of stone ; the upper part of the chimneys of sticks and
mortar. I do not remember the number of these structures
which, grouped together and connected by covered passages or
halls, made the plantation house at Weelaunee ; but as there
were often a great many guests, and no apparent lack of room,
the whole might have been aptly designated Multce in und
junctcz. Some of the rooms were neatly carpeted, and their
walls and ceilings covered with paper-hangings over stretched
canvas. Others, like the halls, had floors of yellow pine, waxed
and polished to a degree perilous to unaccustomed feet. The
offices and servants' quarters formed another group of cabins,
some thirty yards in rear of the first. If, on approaching this
group of buildings, whose exterior was so rude, one were re-
minded of the abode of some petty " hieland chief " of long
ago some Rob Roy of Scottish story the first glimpse of the
drawing-room would have dispelled the idea of rude living, by
its tokens of refinement. But the table that centre of hospitality
to the hungry, at once elegant and abundant was suggestive
of a MacCallum More rather than a Rob Roy MacGregor.

;o6 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

During this visit, in the latter part of January and the be-
ginning of February, the weather was delightful. The day fol-
lowing my arrival brought other guests to the plantation ; among
them, two or three army officers whose stations were not many
miles distant. Some days were given to deer-hunting in the
neighboring forest. Our host kept deer-hounds, and was abun-
dantly supplied with firearms for our party. After an early
breakfast, a blast from the hunting-horn called dogs and horses
for the chase ; and the party, well mounted, rode some miles to
the hunting ground. My quondam classmate was the huntsman.
Having posted the hunters at stations near which the deer were
likely to pass, he went some miles farther into the forest, where
he felt sure of " starting " the game, which the hounds would
drive in the direction of the stations. The first day's hunt
seemed to me eminently successful : I had the good luck to
kill a deer.

The evenings at the plantation were given to conversation
and other social enjoyments, which in well-ordered families are
made healthful relaxations from the routine of daily duties. It
was in these evenings that we were able to enjoy the conversa-
tion of our host. He seemed to take little interest in party
politics of the day, because, as he once said, neither of the
parties then contending, for power even professed those princi-
ples of governmental policy to which he had always adhered.
In this connection, he once mentioned meeting President Van
Buren, at the White Sulphur Springs, in Virginia. He had held
aloof from the circle surrounding the President until one day an
introduction accidentally occurred, when Mr. Van Buren smil-
ingly remarked that he was " indebted to accident for, at last,
knowing Colonel Gamble." The colonel admitted that he had
not sought an introduction because, seeing the President's atten-
tion engrossed by his political friends, he felt that he had no
claim to what they were so eager to obtain. " I am," he added,
" an old-fashioned Federalist." " Colonel Gamble," said the
President, " you belong to the only thoroughly honest party that
the country has ever known ; but then, it is long since dead."

One could not be long associated with a people in their
own homes, and witness their manner of living, and listen to
their expressions of opinion and sentiment on the various
matters that engage the attention of intelligent people from day
to day, without discovering their possible antagonism to other
communities, whose social conditions differed from their own.

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 707

Different conditions require adjustment to insure harmony of
action directed to a common end, and this, in social affairs, can
hardly be effected when accidental differences are exaggerated
to the rank of principles, and patriotism is dwarfed to section-
alism. In the South, the chief incentives to sectionalism had
their origin in slavery. Of course, Florida was not exempt from
it. In fact, this was the one bond of union between the South
Atlantic and Gulf States. On other issues they were not united.
Alabama, Arkansas, Missouri, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Texas
were Democratic. Florida, Kentucky, Maryland, North Carolina,
and Louisiana were not. Virginia and Georgia were sometimes
doubtful States ; and South Carolina was virtually an oligarchy,
generally, though not uniformly, giving its support to the Demo-
cratic party. Prior to the slavery agitation there was no such
unanimity of opinion, on questions of national concern, as could
give assurance of their action. But afterward it was only neces-
sary to ascertain how any national measure would, or ultimately
might, affect the interests, not of the whole country, nor even of
the South, but of the institution of slavery, in order to know
what would be the voice of these States.

Florida presented an epitome of the social characteristics of
our whole country. Outside of the large cities no other State
had, within its own limits, such various elements. The descen-
dants of the Spanish and Minorcan colonists made a considerable
part of the white population. But after its cession to the
United States, in 1-821, immigrants came from the older South-
ern States, to engage in planting ; and from the Northern,
Middle, and Western States, to prosecute that and other indus-
tries. Apart from the differences which time had wrought be-
tween people of the same race, sometimes of the same family,
when subjected to social and climatic influences as widely differ-
ent as those of New England and Carolina, it had not only the
negro problem, whose solution is yet incomplete, but the Indian
problem, for which our Christian people have found no other
solution than the death of the Indian.

Near the end of February I was pronounced able to under-
take the journey to Washington. Though I had been only a few
months in Florida, I had lived with rather than among the
people, who seemed more like old friends than recent acquain-
tances. It was not without regret that I bade adieu to them
and the country where, in so short a time, I had experienced
the pains of almost fatal illness, and the considerate friendship
of its generous people.

708 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

On the journey north, I went to Macon, and thence to
Savannah. Between Macon and Savannah one of my fellow-
travellers for part of the way, the only one was a Mr. Cowles,
a large land-owner and planter; who, in the course of long con-
versations, gave me an outline of his career in Georgia. He
was from Farmington, Connecticut. Coming to Georgia in the
capacity of clerk to a merchant in Milledgeville, he had suc-
ceeded to the business of his employer. The business became
successful, and wisely investing its profits from year to year, first
in the purchase of lands along the Flint River and elsewhere in
Georgia, and then in " hands " to work them, he very soon be-
came a successful planter. At the time of our journey he was
reputed to be one of the wealthiest men in Georgia.

Arriving at Savannah, it was found necessary to wait two or
three days for the steamer making the u inside passage " to
Charleston. This delay gave time to pay a promised visit to a
rice plantation in Bryan County, about twenty miles from the city.

The rice plantations had none of the exterior rudeness of
the cotton districts of Georgia and Florida. But, though the
dwellings and grounds of the rice planters gave evidence of
wealth, they were characterized by the utmost simplicity. The
largest planters of the county were from Pennsylvania, Rhode
Island, and Connecticut. " Strathy Hall," the plantation at
which I was a guest, was on the right bank of the Ogeechee
River, and two or three miles from " Bryant Court-house." It
was noted for the order and neatness of the plantation house
and grounds, as well as for the order and comfort of the negro
quarters. There great care was given to the instruction of the
servants of the plantation, within the limits of the law, to qualify
them for heaven when their work was done on the plantation.
Nor were they subjected to long servitude, as all will understand
who are aware of the average length of even negro life in the
rice swamps of Carolina and Georgia.

On the second day of March, 1839, I left the plantation be-
fore daybreak in order to catch the Charleston steamboat that
left Savannah about noon. The weather had suddenly turned
cold ; and as we drove to town in an open carriage, my host
and I were almost benumbed before arriving at my hotel. When
the steamer left Savannah it was snowing.

The " inside passage " between Savannah and Charleston,
touching at Beaufort and one or two "landings," to receive pas-
sengers and freight, afforded but a passing glance at some of
the Sea-Island cotton plantations. The route from Charleston to

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 709

Weldon, N. C, gave a new experience of travel by stage-coach.
Much of the journey through the low country was made over
" corduroy roads " and " gridiron bridges," whose quality baffles
description. Only four passengers were allowed to a coach, and
the speed was regulated to the necessity of making connection
with a railroad, just opened to travel, at some uncertain point
in the Tar District of North Carolina. One had to cling to the
seat with both hands to prevent butting against the roof of the
coach, and that required more strength than my weakened con-
dition could afford. When we stopped at a way station for
supper I found myself lying across the knees of two benevolent
gentlemen, who kindly supported me to the supper-table, and so
ministered to my necessities that I was able to resume the
journey at the call of " Stage ready ! " This time Maine was
grateful for Southern support.

My second visit to Florida, in the winter of 1852, was spent
in explorations which rarely brought me into contact with the
people of the country. The belt of territory surveyed contained
few settlers of any kind, and except near the Gulf coast and
bordering on the St. John's River, nothing worthy of being
called a plantation. It extended from Tampa Bay and the
Manatee River, in the west, to Lake Mellon an expansion of
the St. John's in the east, and comprised an area of about two
thousand square miles.

As the southern limit of the exploration bordered on the
" Indian Reservation," and the remnant of the Seminoles was
said to be hostile, we were advised of the danger of becoming
victims of " another Indian outrage." In fact, I was not free
from unpleasant apprehension of lurking savages who might
from some unseen covert greet one with a bullet or an arrow.
The Indians were at this time much disturbed by one of those
evidences of care for the " wards of the government " which
have always aroused their "treacherous instincts." Their head
chief had been induced to accompany their Indian agent to
Washington,, to " talk " with the "Great Father" in behalf of the
Seminoles. Soon afterward it was reported that a new treaty
had been made, by which they were to be removed from Florida
to a reservation west of the Mississippi. As this is one of the
corollaries to the Indian problem in. Florida, it may not be out
of place here to give the Indian version of its conditions, and
the mode of negotiation.

On the chief's return from Washington he was landed at

;io RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. [Feb.,

Tampa Bay, where he was kindly received by Captain John C.
Casey, the commissary of subsistence for the army in Florida, in
whom the Indians had implicit confidence. Casey congratulated
the old chief on his having made a treaty that would put an end
to all disputes about boundaries, and secure the Indians from
those encroachments to which they would always have been
subject in Florida.

"But I have not made a treaty!" was the reply. "Ah!"
said Casey, " I am sorry to hear you say that, for it shows that
you do not mean to keep it." " Keep what ? " said the Indian.
" I tell you that I have not made a treaty. Casey, you are
an honest man ; and I'll tell you all about it, and then you
shall tell me if I have made a treaty. The agent asked me to
go to Washington with him, to talk with the Great Father for
the Seminoles. I saw a good many big men there, and we
shook hands. Then one of them asked me * how many horses '
we had. I said may be a hundred. ' How many cattle ?' May
be a thousand. ' How many negroes ?' May be fifty. * Well,'
said he, 'the government will pay you for all. Of course, you
cannot take them with you when you go to a new home beyond
the Mississippi ; but you will be paid for them, and the govern-
ment will give you horses and cattle, plenty, when you get to
your new country. There you will have more and better land
than you have in Florida. All you have to do is to sign the
treaty.' I did not go there to make a treaty to go away from
Florida, and I told the agent so. He whispered to me that if I
did not sign it they would never let me go away from Washing-
ton. I asked him if that was true. He said, 'Yes, they will
keep you here.' Then I signed. Have I made a treaty?"
" No," said Casey, "you have not, but you had better act as if
you had really made it ; for the white men will in one way or
another kill off your people if you do not go away." The old
Indian was very sad. Rousing himself, he became quite dramatic,
as, pointing to some large oaks in front of the house, he said:
" Casey, if those big trees were solid gold, and they would give
it all to me, with all the land, the horses, and the cattle in the
West, to go away from Florida, I would say no ! This country
is mine \ I don't want any other. It was our fathers' country,
and their bones are part of the ground. I won't leave it." But
some time later he was compelled to go West, where he soon
after died. A few Seminoles still remain hidden in the Ever-
glades "wards of the government"; their end will be the last
corollary to the Indian problem in Florida.

1892.] RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH. 711

The Indians of Florida, like those of the North and West,
were simply savages. They were better than vicious white men,
but still savages. They were generally peaceable until goaded
into hostility by the frauds and encroachments of the whites.
What is known as the Seminole War began with " Dade's
Massacre," in 1835, and ended in 1842. It cost the lives of more
white men than there were Indians in the whole territory. Its
history, if truly written, would but repeat the story of all our
Indian wars, varied only by difference of climate and the topo-
graphical features of the seat of war. It began with aggressions
and frauds perpetrated on the "wards of the government "; and
its end was as its beginning.

My knowledge of the treaty and the Indian account of its
negotiation by no means dispelled apprehension of possible ac-
cidents, in exploring along the border of the Indian country.
My friend Casey said there would be no danger if the Indians
knew that I was a regular soldier. " But," he added, " if you
wear a rough dress like the * Crackers/ you may very possibly
meet a bullet. Therefore always wear a military coat ; no In-
dian will trouble you. You will not see one between Tampa
and the St. John's. But they will see you." We did sometimes
come upon the lair of some outlying native when the fire at
which he had prepared his breakfast was still burning, and the
coals were reeking with the odor of broiled venison ; and in
sounding Lake Tehopekaliga, to find its capacity as a feeder to
the proposed ship canal, our advance from north to south was
heralded by signal smokes at frequent intervals. But in all our
explorations we saw no Indians.

E. PARKER SCAMMON.

712 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING.

HENRY EDWARD [Manning] Cardinal Archbishop of West-
minster known to his English friends simply and par excellence
as "the Cardinal" after an episcopate of twenty-seven years
and a priesthood of thirty-five years, at the ripe old age of
eighty-three, entered on his reward the I4th day of January, in
the year of grace 1892. He was a theologian; he was a philan-
thropist ; he was a politician, a political economist, and a philos-
opher ; he was a scholar and gentleman of the old school ; he
was a devout and devoted Catholic ; and he was a most true,
thoughtful, kind, and loving friend. .May he rest in peace!

The career of Cardinal Manning, whether an observer looks
at the beginning of it fifty or sixty years ago, or at the end of
it to-day, or at its middle portion, is one of the most singular
and noteworthy of the present, or of the past generation. From
what we know historically, such a career had not been conceiva-
ble in the last century. From the current progress of events,
such a career could hardly be imagined a century hence. It
was only possible, at the date when its course was actually run,
in the existing state of public opinion, under the existing posi-
tion of the Catholic Church in England, and with the existing
materials, social, political, and religious, of which it was com-
posed. It was only possible in this latter portion of the reign
of the Sovereign Lady of Great Britain and Ireland, in which
this Memorial-Sketch is written.

It may be well to state, at the outset, what may be the
scope and purport of the following memorial ; and what the
reader must not expect to find in the sketch. This may tend
to dispel an impression which will not be realized. The article
will not belie its title. No exhaustive and minute judgment on
the Cardinal, under any condition, will be passed. No critical
estimate of him in his inner life, as a Christian, will be attempt-
ed ; none on his scientific side, be it philosophical, or political,
or economical ; none from the stand-point of theology, nor
ecclesiastically, as a priest or as a bishop. Such estimates must
be left for, and no doubt they will be made by, more compe-
tent, abler, and stronger hands. They ought to be the loving
labor of nearer and more closely connected friends, or relations.

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 713

Rather, myself a layman and only in comparatively late years
known to him, I shall venture to discuss incidentally Dr. Man-
ning's career and some results of it, as it may strike a student
of our own times from without. I shall also endeavor to depict
in outline certain features only in his character of which I have
been for many years an observer as it has presented itself to
me from within the fold of the church. This process of mental
selection will enable me to avoid contentious and critical topics,
on which, whilst there may fairly exist just differences of
opinion, I have neither the desire nor the knowledge to enter.
It will permit me also to draw those aspects of a checkered life
with which I happen to be acquainted, some details of which,
at one period and both in London and in Rome, I was allowed
intimately to witness. And I shall write of the Archbishop as I
feel, as I have long felt for him, affectionately and sympathetic-
ally. For, amongst many of my contemporaries, I am one who
is deeply indebted to him spiritually having been received
into the Catholic Church by his instrumentality ; who was closely
attached to him personally ; and who has been an enthusiastic
admirer of Cardinal Manning for at least a decade of years (if
I may say so) of unclouded friendship.

A man endowed with a many-sided character, and destined
to play a many-sided part during the course of a prolonged and
unusually active life, at its close will naturally receive estimates
which differ largely, both in various degrees of commendation
and in various degrees of criticism. Such is the case of Car-
dinal Manning. In both church and state, and for up-
wards of a quarter of a century which in many ways is un-
paralleled in the world's story he held a decided, conspicuous,
distinguished position in England. A great personage in the
commonwealth, a dignity which, in a sense, was self-made by
the possessor's great powers, intense energy, and indomitable
perseverance ; he was elected of God to become a great ecclesi-
astic in the newly re-established Catholic hierarchy of that coun-
try. In both characters, the Prince and the Archbishop will be
estimated severally and apart, both by English priests and by
English laymen of a common faith. In either case, probably, the
estimate formed will be diverse. Of the ecclesiastical view of his
Eminence, many causes combine to vary the judgment of his
contemporaries. An estimate may be taken from the stand-point
of a regular, or of a secular subject of the Archbishop; or, of a
prelate, or of a priest ; or, at different dates, of a superior, of

714 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

an equal, or of an inferior. Any one who knows anything of
recent religious history in England will be aware that these
different relations could not fail to produce different mental con-
clusions. From the nature of the case, and from the complicat-
ed and transitional condition in which the Catholic Church finds
herself placed in a Protestant nation, at the date of her restora-
tion and fresh development, such a result could hardly be
avoided.

Moreover, there existed a personal incongruity lying en-
tirely outside personal qualities and characteristics which
tended to intensify, rather than to diminish, these variations
in any estimate formed of the Cardinal's life. This incon-
gruity consisted in the contrast, which was obvious, between the
position from which he was called Dr. Manning not having
been born and bred in the true faith and the position to which
he attained, the Archbishop having been raised to the headship
of the old religion in England. Indeed, the difficulties on all
sides which, as a ruler, he had to encounter from human frail-
ties and tempers ; from the conflicting interests which he had to
accommodate, restraining or modifying some and enlarging or
encouraging others ; and from the fact that an abnormal state of
affairs in a country once fervently Catholic and not yet formally
reconciled with Rome, demanded an unusual method of adjust-
ment these difficulties prevent the formation of a concise or
unanimous judgment on the Cardinal's career from an ecclesias-
tical point of view.

Nor is the difficulty less great, either in kind or in degree,
when any person essays to estimate his character from the stand-
point of a lay-mind. For instance, to take but a few cases : Is
the layman an educationalist? He will rejoice in unreservedly
bearing witness to the large and successful efforts made by the
Cardinal year by year, both privately and in public, for the
Christian education of the poor and destitute, of the youth of
all classes, of the seminarist and priest, and of the Catholic
school-master and mistress. Such an one may, indeed, variously
judge, or may hold in suspense his judgment upon, the Arch-
bishop's views of higher or university education for Catholics.
But, on every other division of the subject, his sympathy will be
complete, and his praise will be hearty and without stint. Is
the layman a politician ? He will make his estimate in general
from the Liberal or from the Conservative camp ; and in par-
ticular, he will view the Cardinal's opinion on the great national

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 715

issue of his later life, viz., the burning question of Ireland's
self-government, according to his own conscientious predilections,
tempered, it is to be hoped, with charity and supported by his-
toric and political knowledge. But, such an one will testify to
the Cardinal's love and respect for Ireland, and his sorrow for
her many woes ; to his admiration for the faith and constancy
of the Irish people ; to his honest hatred and contempt for Eng-
land's misgovernment and maladministration in the past ; to his
earnest desire for Ireland's political happiness and prosperity in
the future.

Is the layman, again, a philanthropist ? He will almost en-
tirely endorse all that Dr. Manning has been able to achieve
in one great work of his life towards mitigating the vice of
drunkenness, one of the crying sins of his country. He will ad-
mire all that Dr. Manning has attempted to do, on behalf of
any section of society on whom existing relations of life, or the
requirements of our complex system of civilization bear hardly,
whether these be agricultural laborers, or London cab-drivers, or
assistants behind the counter in shops, or children, deserted,
neglected, or orphan. And he will gladly acknowledge all that
Dr. Manning has succeeded in doing in more private ways, for
the rescue of men and women from the slavery of their sins and
from the degradation into which such sins have cast them. But,
conditional and class estimates of the polygonal and massive
character under consideration, are by no means exhausted by
the judgment pronounced on his life by the philanthropist, by
the politician, or by the advocate of a Christian education for
the children of Protestant England. In any of these cases, and
much more of the composite individuality which created and in-
cludes all of them, no little difficulty will be found by a Catho-
lic layman to reduce to a consistent and self-contained expression
the true portraiture of the late Cardinal Archbishop of West-
minster.

A general idea of the power of the Cardinal's character, of
the position to which his character raised him, of the results
which ensued from the position that, in the divine economy, he
secured, may be gained from a few short sentences containing
an epitome of his career. The man who began life in a humble
curacy in a Protestant parish of an heretical country ; the man
who once acted as Protestant Archdeacon of Chichester, and
then by successive steps swiftly rose to the throne of the Catho-
lic Archbishopric of Westminster such an one could be no ordi-
VOL. LIV. 46

7i 6 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

nary, nor average man. The man who was held to be an ac-
complished theologian however absurd the term may sound to
a Catholic ear when applied to an English clergyman and, with
more reason, was accounted a trustworthy spiritual guide in his
own communion ; and who became a despised seminarist after he
had duly learned his " Penny Catechism " as a hated " pervert "
from Anglicanism, and died a Prince of the Church could be no
ordinary, nor average man. These were the first arid last stages
respectively in his twofold course. Its middle portion in either
case, however, proved him to be neither ordinary nor average
in his powers and in their exercise. It is notorious, that the
some-time Archdeacon was far on the high road to eminence in
the Established Religion, and humanly speaking could not have
been withheld, on his merits and with his interest combined,
from obtaining the chief prizes of his clerical profession, when
he resigned everything at the dictates of conscience. It is a
matter of history, that the future Cardinal not only was given
more than the most fertile imagination could have previously
conceived ; but, for a long series of years, was at once the origi-
nator, as well as the co-operator, in the whole policy and much
of the action which has resulted in placing the Catholic Church
in England in the proud position it occupies at this day. In
regard to what he resigned of secular dignity and worldly pros-
pects, he might almost deserve to be called an exceptional, or
an extra-ordinary man. He would .certainly deserve the designa-
tion had there not been scores and even hundreds of English
clergymen, lacking indeed the same great gifts and without se-
curing the like grand career, who, on moral grounds and of late
years could claim the same honorable distinction.

But, when we observe the results, as well to himself indivi-
dually, as to the communion over which he presided publicly,
which have ensued subsequently to his resignation of all that he
could resign, the late Dr. Manning must be credited with play-
ing a pre-ordained part. He may be said to fill a niche in the
temple of modern English religious life at once unique and in-
comparable, above and beyond those who either preceded or fol-
lowed him, in his submission to the Church from the errors of
Anglicanism. His personal rise to power, however, is but one
part, and is the least part, of his claim to distinction. To gauge
the larger portion of his claim, we must estimate, however briefly,
some results of the Cardinal's tenure of high office in the church.
Under his fostering care, and through his discreet manipulation

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 717

and statesman-like action, the outward status of the Catholic
body in England has been completely changed during the last
quarter of a century, or past generation. In every phase and
condition of corporate life she has advanced on her supernatural
path with giant strides. Socially, politically, numerically, educa-
tionally, ecclesiastically, religiously she is a different community
from what she visibly appeared to men at the beginning of Dr.
Manning's rule. Of course, the credit for much that has hap-
pened in the abnormal advance of Catholicity in this Protestant
kingdom, is due to secondary causes, to the influence of passing
events, and to the ability and zeal of the Archbishop's subordi-
nates in his mighty work for the conversion of England. Still,
to no single man can be ascribed so large a share of credit for
the outward growth of the church in this country, for the de-
velopment of her innate power of recuperation, and for the per-
fecting of the details of her inner life, as to Cardinal Manning.
The facts on which this estimate is formed are patent to all in-
quirers. From their consideration, some insight may be obtained
into the characteristics and powers of the spiritual ruler of
whom the English Church has been bereaved and for whom
every Catholic in England, perhaps without exception, sincerely
mourns.

The portraiture need be taken from no limited stand-point,
and will reflect no special interest, whether clerical or lay. In-
deed, the memorial-sketch may assume the nature of unwrought
materials from which the reader can create his own ideal of the
Cardinal, rather than a direct transfer to paper of the features,
lineaments, and expression of his highly composite character.
The writer, in truth, proposes to deal and must be allowed to
deal, somewhat widely, in generalities although such generalities
will be based on facts, on trustworthy evidence, and on personal
experience. For example : to take in one view a rapid glance
at the important and imposing role he acted in the Catholic
drama of his age, the following assertion may be ventured upon.
If it were felt to be of obligation to condense into a single ad-
jective the Cardinal's chief characteristic, no single word could be
found so entirely to cover his memory as the title of great. He
was emphatically a great man. At different times and under
different surroundings, he would be faithfully described, from
different aspects, as a good organizer, an efficient administrator,
a skilful controversialist, an effective speaker, a popular preacher
(in the best sense of the word), a keen and even eager politician,

7i 8 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

a generous and reasonable opponent, and a kind, fast, and true
friend. But he was more than any one epithet alone describes,
or than all these epithets together combined to indicate. There
was an element of greatness in his character, which intensified
his qualities and sublimated his powers. This is an element of
which posterity will be better able to judge, and which posterity
may be more disposed to allow than the present generation.
Meanwhile, it may be permitted here to anticipate the verdict
of posterity, if not to announce the judgment of to-day : and
the indications, or tests of greatness which may be witnessed in
his life, or may be evolved from his actions, are threefold, viz. :

1. That he possessed within himself a nobility of character,
enriched with a variety of lofty gifts and graces which made him
noteworthy amongst his contemporaries ; together with a singu-
lar power of adapting himself to circumstances, and of .rising
superior to all accidental hindrances which stood in the way of
fulfilling his high destiny.

2. That he made his mark upon, and rose to eminence in, not
only the religion (if it so can be truly called) in which he was
born and lived, without reproach, till middle life ; but also and
this is still more worthy of observation the faith and polity to
which in middle life he humbly submitted himself to the day of
his death, with the completest devotion of body, soul, and
spirit.

3. That, by the divine help mainly, and in a secondary de-
gree only by the combined, or independent efforts of others, he
raised the sacred communion that he ably ruled for so many
years to a position which, as a legally subordinate creed, it had
never before occupied in England ; and that he raised it once
cruelly persecuted and still subjected to certain political disabili-
ties from dependence to a position of equality amongst the con-
tending Protestant sects, from actual powerlessness to one that
commands, if not obedience, at the least deference to its inter-
ests, wishes, and will.

A man, be he priest or layman, of whom these statements
can be truthfully affirmed, may fairly be called great. A few
words on each of these three aspects of the great Cardinal's
career will make the clearer his claim to this title, and will en-
able the reader to arrange the various isolated and even frag-
mentary elements of his character, which have been already
noted, or which may be mentioned below, into one consistent and
.self-contained whole.

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 719

I. Cardinal Manning was a great man in view of his mental
powers, abilities, acquirements under unfavorable circumstances,
and in view of his talents directly God-given. But, so far as I
can estimate his character, which is but a little way, he was not
endowed with what the world usually terms genius. Not that
he was destitute of this gift : but, the genius he possessed
was of another sort and order, and lay in another direc-
tion. The truth of this estimate will become more ap-
parent, perhaps, if it be allowable to compare the future
Archbishop, not with those his contemporaries whose privilege
it was to be born within the church ; but with those Oxford and
Cambridge men, similarly placed with himself, who, in the matu-
rity of intellect and- vigor, and at the full tide of their profes-
sional success, voluntarily came forth from the Protestant city
of confusion and took refuge in the Catholic city of peace. A
few instances out of many possible comparisons with representa-
tive men will suffice.

The Cardinal did not possess the intellectual capacity, which
competent judges hold to be singularly powerful, of the greatest
of all the Anglican converts, John Henry Cardinal Newman.
But, in comparison with a less gigantic mental stature; he would
mount above the average standard of the intellect of his peers.
Dr. Manning was not, I believe (for here I speak upon hearsay,
though his active life is a sufficient cause for this result), so
widely read in Catholic theology whether dogmatic, or ascetic,
or ethical as some converts who have devoted themselves to the
study of the Divine Science. But, his mastery over theology was
not imperfect, as those discovered who, unhappily for themselves,
came into contact with him controversially ; the same became
clear to those who read his devotional books devotionally, or
who went to him for confession. The Archbishop was neither so
deeply imbued with the principles of true philosophy as a teacher,
nor so deeply versed in the theories of false philosophy as a
censor, as the great convert Doctor in Philosophy, W. G. Ward.
But, I have been told, he could hold his private opinion
without disgrace, and could defend the judgments of autho-
rity without defeat, indeed with success, amongst his con-
temporaries, at the periodic meetings of students of mental
science, in the literature of the day, or elsewhere. He was not
such an elegant classic as another learned convert to the faith,
though he took a high or double-first degree at Oxford ; never,
I believe, like many men who take good degrees, neglected his

720 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

classics ; and could converse fluently and colloquially in the
sacred tongue, an accomplishment which does not necessarily ap-
pertain to all English Catholic professors.

Again : he was not a scientist to the extent which other men
of science not Catholic-born may claim to have reached to
name only one, Mr. St. George Mivart. But, not to mention other
proofs, his essay read before the Catholic Academia, on the
Darwinism of Darwin's own life, and the evolution, or rather,
the devolution of Darwin's religious belief and practice, is said
to have been (for I was absent from the reading of the paper)
one of the most original and striking criticisms, from a Catholic
point of view, which has been made. The Cardinal was cer-
tainly not a born poet, which several of his- forerunners or fol-
lowers from the Establishment are allowed to have been notably
Aubrey de Vere, Coventry Patmore, and Fathers Faber and Cas-
wall. He was indeed once guilty of writing, and still more
guilty in printing a hymn on his favorite subject, Temperance,
of which more need not be said. But, on the other hand, he
was conversant with the best poetry of the day (not to speak of
the past), had a fine taste and judgment for poetry, and could
read it aloud with infinite delicacy, pathos, and force. Dr. Man-
ning was not, perhaps, a writer of the first order of purity of style,
vigor, or ability, as one or two Oxford men of letters or writers
who submitted to the Church may be described by their friends.
Yet, he was an accomplished essayist ; he was a solid controver-
sialist ; and he was a lucid annalist. He could compose devo-
tional treatises which will live ; and his old Anglican and written
sermons now, unhappily, somewhat forgotten rank second to
none of the present day for depth of spirituality and felicity of
pious expression, though, of course, they labor under the dis-
qualification of a Protestant origin. And he was, moreover, a
facile, pointed, and sometimes brilliant writer for the press,
whether as politician, annotator, critic, or reviewer of books. He
was not, once more, a great speaker, certainly not a great orator.
Yet, to use his favorite expression, descriptive of others, he
could "think when standing on his legs" at a public meeting,
and proved himself an effective speaker on his own selected topics.
He could retain the attention of the educated classes by his clear
orderly, simple, and unaffected eloquence, which went straight to
the point and home to the mind. He could rivet attention in
all orders of men and it may almost be said by the hour (for he
was lengthy) in the pulpit, whether he preached on the morals

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 721

and ills of every-day life, on the Passion of Christ, or on sacred
biography or martyrology. And he could raise enthusiasm amongst
the mobile masses, when he addressed them in their thousands
on any topic which touched them, or their interests, or their
children, or their very vices, intimately.

The man of whom, in comparison with others, avowedly in
the first rank of their several lines of life, if not standing at the
apex of their respective callings, of whom (I say) these condi-
tioned negatives may be honestly made and of whom these posi-
tive assertions may be fairly predicated, can hardly be denied
the title of " great." He was a great man, less because he was
gifted and graced by any one ability or virtue of surpassing
power and merit, than because he possessed many virtues and
much ability of a very high order and in a very unusual degree.
He was a great man also, apart from all the talents already dis-
cussed, in that other quality which has been named, but cannot
be dwelt upon. He was great, in the instinct he was given to
foresee the future, to grasp the situation, and to decide on imme-
diate and suitable action. The faculty by which he wielded this
talent, together with his marvellous capacity for work (perhaps
thrice the amount of ordinary men), and unflagging perseverance
and tact to overpass, if he could not overcome, accidental im-
pediments in his path these characteristics afford a just claim
to his friends and admirers for employing in his memory the
appellation here affixed to his name. Had he not mentally de-
served the title, had he not practically lived the existence which
merits the title, he could not have emerged from the herd of
commonplace converts to the faith, whose honorable distinction
lies in the fact of the utter self-abnegation of their conversion.
Had he not been a great man, he could not have held his own
amongst his equals, when he found for himself, under many dis-
advantageous conditions, a place and a name and a new career in
the Church of Christ. Had he not been great, he could not
have raised himself though he had been the last to assert it
first into distinction and then into supremacy, amongst and
above his contemporaries, in so many and such various and such
important departments of human thought, human learning, phil-
anthropic beneficence and civilized life.

On one distinguishing characteristic of the Cardinal's person-
ality it is a pleasure to dwell for a moment, before concluding
this part of the memorial-sketch. It will recall much to many
minds, even if the characteristic be only slightly touched. The

722 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

feature in question is one which certainly does not create great-
ness in the owner ; though it almost as certainly is indicative, as
well as a result, of the greatness of his mind. I mean, the gift
of being, in the scriptural sense of the phrase, all things to all
men ; the grace of sympathy, consideration and thoughtfulness
for others, not only in momentous matters, but in the minutiae
of every-day life. Of this side of his character, I have felt the
Cardinal's charm and attraction in my own case, in a time of
great mental trial and perplexity which ended happily. I have
also heard the like from another, during that other's season of
bodily sickness and suffering, even unto death. But, much as his
Eminence was able to do for his friends in a princely fashion, it
was perhaps his excessive and unaffected kindness of heart and
thoughtful consideration in small things which took captive the
recipient's imagination and affections, and made the man, the man
of God, to be beloved. Nor do I speak here of his benefactions
in the way of charity, so far as monetary assistance is concerned,
but rather, in the way of kind ; though, I believe, according to
his limited means and the means placed at his disposal, he was
truly and largely generous. But, I refer to the endless occasions
which such a man, in such a position, with such opportunities,
possessed of exhibiting the virtue of Christian charity in its
widest human aspect the practical love of one's neighbor. To
one result of this fascinating grace may be attributed Cardinal
Manning's singular popularity with those with whom he was
brought into personal contact, officially or privately, by accident
or by premeditation. Seldom, perhaps, has there been so much
devotion and love exhibited for any ecclesiastical superior of a
diocese or church for one who by this very fact was elevated
above the reach of much intimate friendship on the part of the
upper classes, as for him. More rarely still, has so much devo-
tion and love been shown for any Archbishop or Cardinal, by
the poor, who are necessarily prevented from cultivating intimate
relations with a prince of the church, as for him. And this was
due, on the part of poor and rich alike, to his almost unexcep-
tional accessibility of approach of course, supplemented by his
own graciousness when approach had been gained. And this
gift was shared by all who had any the least claim upon him,
upon his time, upon his thoughts, upon his care. It was shared
alike by the troubled, by the distressed, by the wronged, by the
deserted, by the tempted, by the sinner.

To those, being laity, who came under the magic of the

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 723

Cardinal's influence, who enjoyed the benefit of his goodness of
heart, or who experienced the charm of his manner, language
hardly suffices to express affection for his person, or respect for
his memory, or grief for his loss. He was accessible at all hours
and at all seasons which he was enabled to set apart from the
calls of his high office, and from the pressing duties which such
office entailed : and at each such season and hour he would receive
his visitor with equal courtesy and a like absence of any signs
of preoccupation, distraction, haste, or hurry. If I may venture
to speak from my own experience, I have been permitted to see
him, to consult him and to consult with him, or to get a word
from him, as the case might be, or even to learn from himself
that he was powerless at the instant to give me his attention, at
almost every available minute of the day. I have been allowed
to call upon him on matters of real business, not, of course, for
mere social intercourse, after his morning Mass, before his early
dinner or daily drive, at his abstemious tea-time, or later at
night when engaged in private study, or at any odd moment he
could call his own. Well do I remember him, for instance, of
an evening, in the winter-time, when occupying the huge,
gaunt, lofty, well-stored library of the Archbishop's House, West-
minster, seated in his screened arm-chair, with blazing fire and
many candles for he needed both warmth and light reclining
backwards, his person almost in a straight line, his hands and
finger-tops meeting, whilst he conversed after the fatigues of the
day with his wonted geniality and brightness but in more of
such retrospect I must not indulge, and must return from this
short digression.

I have no reason to suppose that his Eminence was more ac-
cessible, or was more gracious to me than to any other layman
who took the same pains with myself to obtain what I required,
and he was always willing to bestow time, counsel, knowledge,
or advice. But, on the contrary, I believe that to all, in his
general accessibility and graciousness, he was equally affab^ and
equally genial; whilst to young people, he was even playful in
his greeting. He was earnest and attentive during the interview,
which, however, he could keep within due limits as I have wit-
nessed with others. He was courteous and even deferential in
his address, though I have seen him draw himself up, as it were,
and assert by manner, tone, and gesture his own claim to defer-
ence at the hands of those whom he thought wanting in the like
courtesy. He was patient in hearing the cause, or the statement;

724 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Feb.,

prompt and exact in declaring his opinion, or judgment ; pointed
and decided in answering the reasons or arguments of oppo-
nents. And this was oftentimes the result of seeing him, of
listening to his voice, and of submitting to his influence : whether
it were from his sympathy, or from his power of attraction, or
from his kindliness of manner (which was obvious), or from his
complete absorption in your case (as it seemed and was) you
always left his presence more satisfied and content than you en-
tered it. If in trouble, you felt consoled ; if irritated, you be-
came calmed ; if desponding, you were encouraged ; if in doubt,
your doubts were replaced by certainty ; if in ignorance on any
special point, you were categorically instructed; if out of sorts
(so to say) with yourself or with the world, you realized that the
world however evil, including yourself however miserable, was
bearable. Neither did the popular opinion of the good Cardinal
vary materially from this individual estimate, which is inten-
tionally just, though consciously partial. If only once a certain
amount of muscular stiffness and nervous frigidity for he was,
though self-collected by discipline, of a nervous temperament
which repelled some class of minds, was overcome by his guest,
or visitor, the estimate here made was generally formed. But, it
is too well and too widely known to require any qualification,
that, to say much in a few words, Cardinal Manning was beloved
by his people, high and low, young and old, man and woman.
He left his mark on his spiritual subjects, on their heart and in
their affections. And one, in his position, who accomplished
this feat and who gained this triumph, deserves to be remem-
bered in the future by the title of " the Great Cardinal."

ORBY SHIPLEY.

Colway Lodge, Dorset, Eng.

(TO BE CONCLUDED.)

1892.] NEWMAN AND MANNING. 725

NEWMAN AND MANNING.

FOOLISH our praise and childish prattle

Over the grave they won so well !
Their ears were attuned to the din and rattle,
Their steady gaze met the flame of battle,

Till they gained the sunlit citadel

Hanging twixt Heaven and Hell.

Then shone their brow with the golden glamour

The noonday heaven can clothe withal :
But their ear heard still the nether clamour,
Where Truth seemed only to stutter and stammer,
And Error's voice like a trumpet-call
Ruled the high carnival.

Ah ! but they caught, in this world's truces,

More than a glimpse of God ; and yet,
Their hearts still fed with generous juices
Sinew and brain for the commoner uses

Man makes of man, till with tears and sweat
The patient cheek be wet.

Like they were as brother to brother

Preaching no sermon they dared not do :
And see how at last the great All-Mother
Clasps now the one, and again the other,
Close to her heart : and the weary two
Slumber the long night through !

How should they feel Earth's cold embraces

Their foreheads lit with the splendorous day ?
Sooth, she hath limned their godlike faces,
Her potter's hand hath fashioned the vases
Earth they are, and they melt away
Into a common clay !

726 NEWMAN AND MANNING. [Feb.,

And yet they knew with heart that despises

The fading gloss and the falling dross :
Vain to them were her sweet surprises,
Love, wealth, and fame all the heart surmises
Worthy of gain, they esteemed as loss
If it led not to the Cross.

Kith and kin and all that is dearest

Wrung their hearts with tenderest plea :
When wreathed bays seemed brightest and nearest,
They took up a chaplet of leaves the searest,
To weave in their proud humility
Where every man might see!

And so the world hissed after them " Traitor!"

" Coward ! " anon, and anon cried " Fool ! "
Nor pastures green, nor the volleying crater
Heeded they aught, till men saw later

Something to love in that baffling School
Hatred nor love can rule !

H. T. HENRY.

Overbrook, Pa.

1892.] NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. 727

NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE.

IT is midwinter in 1531, and a peasant of active build, with
dark hair and eye, trudges patiently along the stony ribs of a
barren, sun-scorched hill. His monarch has been overthrown by
pale-visaged intruders, coming up from the coast clad in armor
impervious to Aztec arrow or obsidian glaive ; their horrific
thunder has dispersed the serried forces of Anahuac, trodden
into the dust by the gigantic monsters of the invaders ; royal
ladies have been humbled by the resistless stranger, temples de-
stroyed, altars overthrown. Of what profit to adhere to an order
that had not force to maintain itself against assault, or to adore
invertebrate deities powerless to secure their stately fanes. Better
to bow the neck, to yield to fate, and to await the return of
Montezuma to his own in patience. Thus had reasoned the man
of the people. He had renounced his old allegiance to Quetzal
and Montezuma, since these were of the past, and accepted the
polity of the dominant power,' who had admitted him to a re-
stricted brotherhood with mystic rite, replacing his very name
by the unpretentious appellation of John James, and his wife
and other relatives had made similar submission.

The modest aspect and speech of the new teachers in long,
chocolate-colored robes and flowing beards contrasted gratefully
with the violence of the musketeers, and the desire grew upon
the peasant to know more of their learning. Therefore was he
trudging through the brisk, keen air of this bright December
morning to hear the instruction that they constantly delivered.
The man paused to survey the attractive panorama stretched at
his feet. A league to the south stood the new city on the site
of the ruined Tenochtitlan ; to the right ranged a long succes-
sion of blue, pine-clad heights ; whilst to the east giant snowy
volcanoes formed a stately background to the glittering waters
of Lake Tezcoco, its surface dotted with the dug-out canoes of
fishermen, whilst dark flocks of ducks fed quietly on the silvery
expanse, heedless of those of their fellows drawn stealthily be-
neath the waves by the cunning Aztec divers. Then his thoughts
reverted to Tonantzin, the Juno of his people, formerly wor-
shipped on this very hill with mild and bloodless rites.

But suddenly he hears entrancing strains of music, far sur-

728 NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. [Feb.,

passing in the sweetness of their melody the most finished per-
formances of his own people or of the Spaniards. Then ap-
peared to the awe-struck and wondering rustic a fair and modest
princess, habited after the fashion of his people, who accosted
him with kindness, telling him that she willed a temple to be
built there in her honor, and directing him to convey her mes-
sage to the bishop. In reverent attitude he heard and promised
compliance. This, however, was not so simple of performance ;
and when with true Aztec doggedness he finally effected his
purpose, the man was only derided for his pains as a partially
reclaimed idolater, steeped in the superstitions of his early days,
and evolving visions from the dark recesses of his pagan imagi-
nation. He returned to the Lady. She promises to see him
again, and permits him to retire to his home at Tolpetlac,
where, with Lucy Mary, his wife, he speculated as to what this
might import. The next day being Sunday, he returned to the
hill. The Lady repeated her injunction, and the Indian again
approached the prelate. This dignitary, Don Juan Zumdrraga^
hereon demanded a sign, and sent the man away, who at the
hill disappeared from the ken of the bishop's retainers, secretly
observing his movements. He again met the Lady, who, hearing
his demand for a sure evidence to satisfy the prelate, ordered
his attendance the next day. Returning to his home, Juan
Diego found his uncle suffering from a severe fever, and attend-
ing on him he omitted to visit the mountain as directed. Next
day, his relative being in mortal peril, he started for Tlaltelolco
to obtain for him the spiritual ministrations of one of the Fran-
ciscans there resident. Intent on this mission, he deviated from
his customary route over, the mountain's brow, where the Lady,
he judged, would be sure to delay him, passing nearer to the
Tezcocan lake. But she was not to be evaded by this feeble
artifice ; for the worthy Juan saw her coming down to him, and
to his representations she merely replied that his uncle had per-
fectly recovered, and ordered him to gather the flowers he
should find growing on the mountain, and bear them as a sign
to the bishop. Now, plenty of flowers are to be found in the
gardens around Mexico at all seasons, but it was an altogether
unheard-of thing that roses should flourish untended on the ex-
posed hillside in December. But the Indian, plucking the blos-
soms in the place indicated, placed them in his tilma* and bore

* This is a blanket used as an overcoat. The head passes through a slit in its centre, and
it hangs down front and back as a double apron.

1892.] NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. 729

them to the 'episcopal residence, where he waited with patience
until the dignitary appeared. If the flowers caused the bishop
some momentary surprise, what was his awe and amazement at
seeing a beautiful painting of the heavenly visitant emblazoned
in bright colors on the workman's robe containing the fragrant
buds and blossoms ! Reverently and on his knees did the bishop
receive this venerable token, and, attended by his clerks, he
forthwith bestowed it with all honor in his private chapel. The
Indian then returned to his home accompanied by two messen-
gers from the bishop, and there found his uncle perfectly re-
covered, the hour of his healing corresponding with that at
which the Lady had appeared to his favored nephew. Deeply
moved by these heavenly manifestations of regard, the twain
dedicated their lives to the Blessed Virgin, residing thenceforth
by the chapel which the bishop, a few weeks later, opened for
the reception of the holy picture at the spot where the roses
were found growing. The Indian and his wife took a vow of
chastity, and there he died a most edifying death a short time
after the Tudor Bluebeard, who made Israel to sin, expired
in such woeful despair in London. One is reminded of St.
Paul's words to the obdurate Jews : " Since you judge yourselves
unworthy of eternal life, we turn to the Gentiles " ; if we re-
nounce our promised heavenly throne God can provide for it a
worthy occupant.

The down-trodden native race now had a patroness of their
own, and the Mother of God, under the guise of a Mexican
princess, was venerated at the hill of Tonantzin, the ancient
mother of the gods. This cultus, therefore, has always had a
national, emphatically an Indian, character, and the conversion
of the population, at first beset with difficulties, now progressed
apace. The papal recognition of the miracle was long delayed,
and it was not till the middle of the last century that the Con-
gregation of Rites finally set its seal upon the events here re-
corded, and declared Our Lady of Guadalupe the patroness of
New Spain. However, the local authorities, both civil and eccle-
siastical, had forestalled them in this, and the devotion was firm-
ly rooted in the land. So jealous were the people of foreign
interference, that a devout Italian client of Our Lady of Guada-
lupe, who had attempted to collect funds for beautifying her
shrine, was imprisoned for some time, his goods confiscated,
and himself expelled the country with every expression of con-
tempt for his uninvited activity. At the revolt against Spanish

730 NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. [Feb.,

rule Our Lady of Guadalupe became the rallying cry of the
popular party ; it was to Mexico what St. George was anciently
to England, St. Denis to France, and St. James to Spain. The
priest Hidalgo, who led the revolt, took for his standard a ban-
ner emblazoned with the portrait of this Virgin, so that the
devotion has a political as well as a religious aspect.

No one can live long in Mexico without having the Guada-
lupe image thoroughly impressed on his memory. We cannot re-
call any so popular a monument elsewhere. In every house it is
found, of course in every temple ; it is on the match-boxes and
cigarette-cases, in the butchers' and bakers' shops. As to the im-
age itself, it is not unpleasing a young lady with eyes lowered
and hands joined in devotion ; her dark hair parted in the
middle, with a crown resting on the head ; a blue mantle studded
with stars and fastened at the neck by a clasp descends to
the feet, and beneath this is worn a rose-colored dress, whilst
the figure stands on a moon, borne by a youthful angel. From
the image on all sides radiates a golden halo. The painting is
said to be on both sides of the cloth, and a commission of art-
ists who examined it were unable to say by what process it had
been executed. These circumstances excite the ire of the infidels,
and a few very truculent ones there used to be in the foreign
elements of the capital.

A number of churches have been erected at Guadalupe at
various times, and there are now five : the collegiate church, the
parish church, and the chapels of the old convent, of the hill,
and of the well. The former is the most important, and has
been renovated and beautified from time to time ; but as it is
shortly to be reopened, after having been in the architect's
hands for several years past, it is premature to speak of it in
detail. It stands at the foot of the mountain, and is the first
noteworthy object reached on the journey from the capital. We
may attain the summit by two long stone stairways, and here on
the terrace, surrounded by a stone wall, stands the chapel which
marks the spot where the Indian gathered the roses. The place
was at first distinguished by a cross ; then, after the lapse of over
a century, by a chapel, which was replaced by the present struc-
ture at the commencement of the last century. It is adorned
by appropriate pictures, and contains some notable monuments.

From the terrace a magnificent prospect unfolds itself, the
towers and domes of the capital sparkle in the sempiternal
sunshine, to the left glitters the lake of Texcoco, whilst beyond

1892.] NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. 731

the crests of the twin volcanoes crowned with their snowy con-
opy dazzle the eyes of the beholder. In the rear is one of the
most remarkable cemeteries in the country, beautified with par-
terres of flowers, well-kept paths and lawns of emerald. Many
of the monuments are works of art in marble, limestone, or the
beautiful Puebla onyx. The names of warriors and statesmen, of
poets and presidents, and of not a few who have attained to
world-wide fame, may be read on the stone. Not the least
noteworthy is the grave of Santa Afta, that brilliant meteor of
war, statecraft, and ambition, which finally set in such gloomy
obscurity, grim close to so restless a career.

Descending by the eastern stairway, a tall stone monument
arrests the eye, which is said to represent the masts, yards, and
square sails of a ship, but the resemblance is not strikingly ap-
parent. The story of it is that a storm-battered craft tossing on
the dark waters of the gulf during 'a hurricane was seemingly
past hope and beyond human aid ; the crew hereupon implored
the succor of their patroness, vowing moreover that were they
delivered they would in gratitude bear the masts of their vessel
to Guadalupe and there deposit them as a thank-offering which
promise, on reaching Vera Cruz in safety, they actually performed,
enclosing the masts and yards in a protecting envelope of ma-
sonry. At the foot of this flight of steps we come on the
circular chapel crowning the well that sprang forth at the
spot where the Lady stood when she spoke with the Indian.
The dome of this building, formed with blue, white, and yellow
enamelled tiles, is very pleasing as it sparkles in the clear sun-
light. The well itself, which is said to possess beneficial proper-
ties, is in the porch, protected by a screen of ironwork, attached
to which is a metal dipper ; this is much frequented, and during
the festivals it is hard to approach it from the throng of Indians
anxious to fill empty bottles with the sacred water for convey-
ance to their distant abodes. Within the chapel has been much
beautified of late in excellent taste, with paintings of the various
apparitions. A statue of Juan Diego supports the pulpit, and
an original portrait in oils of this venerable person may be seen
in the sacristy. This church is a hundred years old and was a
work of devotion, both architects and laborers giving their ser-
vices gratuitously. In fact, so great was the enthusiasm that
masons and workmen were permitted to devote Sundays and
festivals, their only spare time, to the task, which in the evening
they could with difficulty be induced to abandon, while gentle-
VOL. LIV. 47

73 2 NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. [Feb.,

women brought such material as they could to the workers in
their aprons.

Without the porch, and at the ascent of the staircase, a pillar
supports an image of the Blessed Virgin which marks the posi-
tion of her first appearance. The parish church is in nowise
remarkable except that its sacristy was the second building
erected for the bestowal of the miraculous picture. It stands on
the north side of a small plaza, planted with trees and flowers
and provided with commodious benches. Hard by are a series
of buildings employed for school and municipal purposes ; this
was originally the convent of Poor Clares founded a little before
the Chapel of the Well, and secularized, together with all similar
foundations, on the downfall of the empire of Maximilian. Sev-
eral attempts made at various periods to erect a monastic estab-
lishment at Guadalupe proved abortive, the authorities judging
that sufficient religious foundations already existed in the coun-
try ; however, an enthusiastic nun, one Sister Mary Ann, having
obtained the favor of the archbishop, though totally unprovided
with funds, obtained permission to present her petition in person
to the Spanish monarch, who granted her leave to make a col-
lection for the purpose of building a nunnery of her order at
Guadalupe. Her enthusiasm proved contagious ; over a couple
of hundred thousand dollars were obtained, and a cloister and
church were erected close to the Collegiata. The church is actu-
ally employed for its original purpose, and during the last few
years, as the Collegiate temple has been undergoing renovation,
the holy picture has been kept here.

Guadalupe was made a town in the last century and still
later a city ; however, it is actually a village with some three
thousand inhabitants, and possesses scanty advantages in the
natural order, the mortality being over sixty per thousand. Nor
is this to be wondered at in view of the stagnant ditches of
impure water which characterize the place. It is a trist and
lugubrious little town, and stretching eastwards towards the lake
through arid sandy wastes is still another Pantfon or burial
ground, not so sumptuous as that on the mountain but yet well
provided with seemly monuments. A statue of the priest Hi-
dalgo, the Mexican Washington, stands near the market-place,
and the city is called after him, being officially styled Guadalupe
Hidalgo. Here was signed the treaty of that name by which
Mexico ceded a moiety of her territory to the United States.
On the way towards the capital are some mineral baths ; the

1892.] NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. 733

road, along which dapper little mules whisk the tramcars in jing-
ling career, is raised above the marshy pastures where forlorn-
looking cattle wade lugubriously, whilst parallel to this runs the
ancient pilgrimage causeway, flanked by fifteen handsome altars
of stone with representations of the Mysteries of the Rosary.
But the pilgrims who take this route have now neither time nor
inclination to tarry at these mouldering shrines to tell their
beads ; they fly past them heedlessly to the accompaniment of
an ear-piercing screech, for the road is now monopolized by the
Vera Cruz Railway.

So does the modern spirit roughly elbow old-world ideas in
Mexico as elsewhere, but despite of this Guadalupe is a strong-
hold of popular devotion, and when it ceases to be so the land
will be inhabited by another race and the Aztec will have
disappeared.

The festival of Our Lady of Guadalupe occurred on Saturday,
the 1 2th of December. This, with the celebration of the Im-
maculate Conception on the 8th of that month, made an inter-
mission of business of eight days, including two Sundays. And
the Sundays and feasts, it may be said in passing, are being
observed more strictly in Mexico year by year. Many of the
Mexican shops nay, the majority are closed all Sunday, though
it is said that the assistants in the large establishments have to
attend and dress the store for the ensuing week ; the remainder
with certain customary exceptions, tobacconists and the like,
close from midday. The churches were again crowded all the
forenoon, the blue draperies used on the 8th having given place
to white and gold. The altars of Our Lady of Guadalupe were
naturally the objects of especial devotion, and hotel streets and
private residences were gaily adorned. A frequent and effective
device is to stretch strings, from which depend little bannerets
of blue and white paper, across the street from the upper win-
dows of the houses ; this produces the effect of a fluttering roof
without impeding the sunlight. The road to Guadalupe from
the capital was a merry one throughout the day ; every few
minutes long processions of mule-cars, those of the second class
crammed with a suffocating mass of Indians, proceeded leisurely
northwards. By these jogged in the dust hundreds of ragged
but happy people with babies swathed in shawls on their backs.
Numbers of heavy carts, densely tenanted and bedecked with
flags, also crawled leisurely along, but so good-natured did the
cheerful multitude appear that the mounted gens-d'armes had

734 NUESTRA SENORA DE GUADALUPE. [Feb.,

little to do but to add effect to the pageant by the caracoling
of their mettlesome chargers. Arrived in the little city the cram
was appalling ; but perseverance works marvels, and by a judi-
cious admixture of forbearance and self-assertion the clamorous
throng of fruit-sellers was passed and the centre reached. Here
are a number of stalls for cheap and unctuous meals, fruits, cakes,
and gaily-colored candles, the latter for the church.

It is not our purpose to describe the festivities of the occa-
sion. The rumor that the Collegiate Church was to be opened
on this occasion with a concourse of bishops from all parts of
the Republic and the United States was an error into which
many fell, thanks to some over-informed members of the press.
The building has long been closed for repairs, and is likely to
so remain ; meanwhile the sacred picture is in the small neigh-
boring church formerly the chapel of the Franciscan nunnery.
A few policemen guide the people, preventing entrance at the
door of exit; the crush is terrible, and one trembles to think of
the cremation that might result should one of the numerous
tapers fall amidst this cotton-robed throng. But we escape into
the sweet air of heaven at length, fight our path to the cars, and
return to the capital. There at night bands play in the plazas,
the fagade of the cathedral is illuminated, and pyrotechnic
displays, so dear to the Mexican heart, are frequent ; venders of
sweets, peanuts, and fruits camp in the roads and do an al fresco
business. From the houses hang illuminated copies of the image,
with the legend, " Non fecit taliter omni nationi " / and we at
length retire, musing on the indestructibility of religious faith
even in a materialistic age.

CHARLES E. HODSON.

San Luis Potosi^ Mexico.

1892.] DR. BOUQUILLON' s REJOINDER. 735

DR. BOUQUILLON'S REJOINDER*

THE object of this second pamphlet by Dr. Bouquillon is to
explain more fully the scope, statements, and arguments of his
first pamphlet. Some critics have misinterpreted its meaning,
and there has arisen in consequence in many minds a misunder-
standing and an erroneous impression which it was highly im-
portant to correct. The Doctor explains, that it was not his
purpose to speak of the religious organization of the school, or
of the obligation of parents to select worthy masters and good
schools for their children. His object was to show that educa-
tion was a mixed matter in which there are four concurring
factors, viz., men taken individually and collectively, the family,
the state, and the church. He aimed at explaining the princi-
ples which must underlie a sound policy of conciliation between
all these factors in education, because the understanding of these
principles is a means of preventing politico-religious conflicts,
the effects of which are so disastrous.

The main question at issue between Dr. Bouquillon and his
critics is : whether he has stated these principles respecting the
Rights and Duties of each one of the four factors in "a manner
conformed to the teachings of the best Catholic authorities ; arid
specifically, whether he has or has not treated in a due manner
the matter of the Right and Duty of the State in education.
Here is the crucial point in the discussion.

There is an ultra-democratic opinion of the nature and limits
of state-authority, which minimizes political sovereignty into
the smallest possible compass. There is an opposite extreme
which minimizes individual right and liberty, and when it
reaches the point of socialism suppresses them under a state
tyranny. The doctrine of St. Thomas, Suarez, Taparelli, and the
other great Catholic publicists is midway between these two ex-
tremes. Dr. Bouquillon has shown conclusively that his teach-
ing is in entire conformity with this doctrine, and with the en-
cyclical of the reigning Pontiff, Leo XIII.

A capital objection against Dr. Bouquillon is, that he makes

* Education: To Whom does it Belong? A Rejoinder to Critics. By the Rev. Thomas
Bouquillon, D.D., Professor of Moral Theology at the Catholic University of America,
Washington, D. C. Baltimore: John Murphy & Co.

736 DR. BOUQUILLON'S REJOINDER. [Feb.,

no distinction between the Christian and the non-Christian State.
The answer to this is : that, as there is no distinction in respect
to right between Christian and non-Christian individuals and
families, so there is none between States. The difference comes
in, when the exercise of rights according to some law is con-
sidered, which is the natural law for a non-Christian State, for the
Catholic Christian State, the natural law, together with the di-
vine law and the canons of the church. Between these two, i. e.,
the State purely Christian and the State purely non-Christian,
there are intermediate States, in some sense Christian, and in
another sense non-Christian. Our Republic is one of these, and
is by no means to be classed with Turkey, China, and the god-
less republic of the French Revolution.

Another criticism relates to the proper signification of the
terms Education and Instruction with their congeners. Dr. Bou-
quillon has been blamed for confusing two distinct things, Teach-
ing and Education, and urging arguments which avail only for
the right to teach, in favor of the right to educate. Instruction
or teaching is explained to denote the formation of the intellect,
education the formation of the will and the training of the
moral nature in virtue. Dr. Bouquillon does not reject these
definitions, and defends his use of the term education by refer-
ring to a wider and more general sense which it commonly re-
ceives. He also proves that the State has a right to educate,
taking the word in its more restricted sense.

We do not agree, however, with this explanation of the dif-
ference between instruction and education. They are not indeed
synonymous, but neither are they in logical opposition. Educa-
tion has a wider sense than instruction, and includes it within its
proper scope. It is the development and formation of the whole
nature of the human subject, especially the rational part of it,
the intellect as well as the will, or as common usage has it, the
heart. Instruction or teaching is properly the imparting of know-
ledge, and has as much to do with forming the religious and
moral character as with perfecting intellect and reason. We do
not call an illiterate saint an educated man or a wicked scholar
uneducated.

There has been a good deal more of this sort of skirmishing
criticism, of what the illustrious Jesuit Father De Smedt calls
" the tactical craft that strives to take the discussion from the
main field of the contest and bring it to a corner"; together
with suggestions of arrives penstes on the part of the author.

I8 9 2.]

DR. BOUQUILLON'S REJOINDER.

737

Dr. Bouquillon very justly says " that the so-called proces de ten-
dance are everywhere odious, and contentions merely about words
ridiculous" (p. 10).

The real gist and purpose of the contention has been to put
Dr. Bouquillon's defence of the right of the State to educate in-
to a false perspective. The impression has been produced to a
considerable extent, especially in the minds of those who have
either not read or not attentively considered the first pamphlet,
that State authority has been so presented as to diminish or ex-
clude parental and ecclesiastical rights, and to vindicate the neu-
tral system of public-school education against the judgment
which the Sovereign Pontiff and the bishops have pronounced in
respect to the education of Catholic young people.

Dr. Bouquillon's pamphlet not only gave no occasion to such
a misinterpretation, but positively and explicitly excluded it.
This second pamphlet has made it even more unmistakably clear
that his doctrine is in perfect accord with the judgment of the
ecclesiastical authority.

The obligation of giving a Catholic education to Catholic
children cannot be disputed or disregarded. There may be a
difference of opinion in regard to arrangements between eccle-
siastical and civil authorities as to the conduct of schools. But
it is the prerogative of the bishops to determine these practical
questions ; and it is incumbent on all those who discuss them to
do so with perfect fairness and moderation.

738 THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. [Feb.,

THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG.

" IF Socrates, seeking to determine by a calculation the de-
grees which separate the pleasure of the just from that of the
unjust, could discover that the former was seven hundred and
twenty-nine times greater than that of the latter, founding his
calculation on a theorem of geometry, at what a prodigious re-
sult should we arrive if we employed any adequate process of a
similar kind to form an estimate of the supernatural delights of
the Catholic faith ? For, be it ever remembered, that from the
mystic consolations of authority down to the sportful play of
youth upon the steps of churches, 'the fingers of the powers
above do tune the harmony of this peace.' The Catholic Church,
it is true, directs her faithful people to a future, not a temporal
felicity ; but while announcing the certainty of the former she
invites them to rejoice even while passing to it, without waiting
till all is ruined and repaired again ; as in the Lenten hymn for

Lauds :

" Dies venit, dies tua,
In qua reflorent omnia :
Laetemur et nos in viam,
Tua reducti dextera."

The day returns, this day of Thine,

And all 's again in bloom arrayed ;
Led safely by Thy hand divine,

May we the gladsome chorus aid." *

For profound erudition combined with rare poetic insight,
pleasingly instructive narrative, and devout inspiration commend
me to the too-little-known works of the author, from one of
which the above is quoted. His clear historical view of the in-
fluence of the Catholic faith upon the " manners " of the people
is unfolded to the reader as a delightful panorama, revealing to
the eye, even of the profoundest scholar versed in the history
of the times he undertakes to depict, th'e most charmingly sur-
prising pictures of Catholic life. There is hardly a principle of
truth, an element of goodness, or a sentiment of the beautiful
which he fails to show found singularly marked expression and
expansive influence wherever the Catholic faith had a free hand

* Compitum; or, The Meeting of the Ways at the Catholic Church, by Kenelm H. Digby.
Book ii. chap, viii.: " The Road of Joy."

1892.] THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. 739

in shaping the civilization of the age. Concluding the chapter
already cited, he' says with justice: "A sense, therefore, of the
joyfulness which the Catholic faith imparts to a population is
among the deepest impressions which result from a survey of the
world ; for I repeat it, we cannot even make brief sojourn with
a people under its influence without being, as Virgil says :

" ' Nescio qua praster solitum dulcedine laeti ' "
I know not with what uncommon sweetness glad.

What will surely strike the mind of the studious reader is
that the traditions, ceremonies, and language of the offices of
Catholic worship are so wonderfully expressive of, as they are so
powerfully well calculated to inspire, the sentiment of a pure,
serene, unalloyed joy. Truly one cannot fail to see, be he en-
veloped in ever so dense a mist of prejudice, that the Catholic
religion is a joyful religion of a happy people, to whom the
" glad tidings of great joy " have not been announced in vain.

The key to the character of any people is to be found in
the character of their religion ; for to their religious beliefs and
practices must be referred the most powerful of all influences by
which, not only the individual life, but the whole social order
and even national qualities, are directed and formed.

To judge of the influence so thoroughly leavening as that of
religion upon a people, one must observe the manners of the
commonalty, especially the peasantry. Compare the Protestant
peasantry of England with those of the Catholic Tyrol, or of
those portions of France, Spain, Portugal, or Italy yet un-
clouded by the gloom of heresy or unreduced to the -" silence of
the conquered " by the snarling savagery of infidelity. Observe
the stolid countenance, the jealous slowness of speech, the sus-
picious glance of the eye, the inhospitable frown, the grumbling,
growling " Naw, I doan't know ye, an' I doan't want to know ye"
air shown by the former, compared to the frank, cheery, un-
affected bearing of the latter ; their singularly courteous lan-
guage and tone of address, yet lacking all servility ; the ready
smile that betokens welcome, accompanied with the common
phrase, This or that, my home or whatsoever else they have,
" is yours " ; spoken, too, not in a grudging underbreath, but in
clear, well-formed sentences assuring genuine generosity of heart,
enforced by polite bows and graceful motions ; forming the most
charming pictures of unstudied refinement. The same marked
contrast is seen even in the same nation. The Irish Catholic
peasant expressively sums up the morose, hard-featured, penny-

740 THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. [Feb.,

saving character of his Protestant fellow-countryman, so opposite
to his own gay, light-hearted, laughter-loving spirit, his effusive
gallantry, ready wit and generous thriftlessness, when he styles
him " black."

To one who has not especially looked for it nothing will be
found more confirmatory of this than the abundant evidence
of the inspirations of joy afforded not only by the outward
splendor and cheerfulness of Catholic festivals, but by the very
frequency of words in chant and prayer, from priest and choir,
at Holy Mass and in the Divine Office from Matins to Compline,
whose meaning is that of joy. Some such will occur at once
even to the least learned of our people of to-day; despite the
fact that both learned and unlearned are, for the most part, shut
off, alas ! by the tradition which has closed their ears to these
multiple invitations to gladness, and closed their mouths against
repeating them to their hearts. Such, for instance, are the titles
of the two mid-Lent and mid-Advent Sundays, " Laetare " and
"Gaudete, " to which might be added the introit, " Gaudeamus
in Domino " for certain festivals. From some preacher's voice,
here and there, a few more may learn that Easter is the day of
the " Gaudium magnum, quod est, Alleluia !" and that it is because
of the "joy" of Christ's resurrection that no Sunday is ever a
fast day. But what would be a revelation both to those who
acknowledge the fact of the happiness of Catholics in their re-
ligion and know not its causes, and to the majority of even
well-instructed Catholics themselves of our day, is the extraordi-
nary frequency of the use of terms significative of joy and glad-
ness found upon every page of the church's office books. I can
imagine a highly inspiring and instructive little volume, which
would be nothing more than a simple concordance of such words
with references to the occasions when they are employed in di-
vine worship. That the joy of the Christian is not banished
even in seasons of penance more than one reference would
show, such as the quotation from the Lenten hymn at the head
of this essay. This all-pervading sentiment of joy in the Catholic
religion fully accords with our Lord's teaching how to bear
one's self in penitential exercises : " When thou fastest anoint
thy head and wash thy face, etc."

Right here naturally comes up a question apropos of -the
well-proven claim which the author before mentioned makes
for the realization of that Catholic joy, especially in the ages
from whose history he chiefly draws his illustrations, the ages of
faith the Dark Ages, as ignorant Protestants call them. That

1892.] THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. 741

question is, How did the church in those times inspire her faith-
ful children more effectively than she is doing now with the
sentiment of holy Christian joy ? The answer is not difficult.
The more constant and brilliant presentation of what outwardly
manifests and inspires gladness in the solemnization of numerous
festivals, and the more common association of the masses of
people in their celebration than the material demands of our
later civilization permit them, go very far towards explaining the
more happy results which were then achieved.

But it is chiefly to be attributed to the fact that in those
times of gladness the people heard and understood the joyful,
inspiring voice of the church, and united their own voices to
hers in chant and psalm and prayer. That this should have been
true seems to us not only marvellous, but at first thought im-
possible. For in those ages of manuscripts few of the common
people knew how to read in their own language, much less in
the Latin language of the church. And yet there is abundant
evidence that they came to possess a singularly familiar acquain-
tance with the church's words of praise and prayer ; not only
enough to be able to pray and sing in her own language in the
church, and at their daily avocations, but also to have an intel-
ligent comprehension of the meaning of what they prayed and
sung. This intellectual appreciation was, at any rate, sufficient
to enable them to receive, through their association with the
holy offices of worship, the deepest as well as truest spiritual
impressions.

Our author, in his several works, instructively shows how far
these impressions went to the formation of individual and social
character. Despite the wide-spread diffusion of literary acquire-
ments, and the multiplication of books and other easy means of
instruction, the mass of people in our day make but a sorry show
in these respects when compared with the comparatively illiterate
peoples of the Middle Ages. Illiteracy does not necessarily imply
unintelligence, nor does ignorance of the alphabet debar one from
the acquisition of learning and wisdom ; neither does it hinder
the possibility of mental or spiritual development. The history
of the times shows that there was a great number of schools,
and many famous universities filled with many more thousands
of scholars than our own such institutions can collect together ;
all going to prove that if reading was riot widely diffused, learn-
ing was. Oral instruction supplied the means now sought for
mainly from books, and many instances recorded show that the
people cultivated the faculty of memory to a prodigious degree.

742 THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. [Feb.,

It was not an uncommon thing, for instance, for youths to know
by heart the greater part of the Psalter, or even the whole num-
ber of its one hundred and fifty psalms.

One more consideration is worthy of note. One deprived of
sight has recourse to other faculties of perception, which also be-
come abnormally acute, and in great measure supply the loss.
Whole peoples lacking the easy means of mental culture afforded
by the knowledge of letters make more ready use of those other
and better symbols of rational and spiritual truth supplied by
nature, which exemplify the ideal more directly to the mind
than alphabetical ones can, and apply their intelligence with
more ardor to the oral teaching of the elite of their time, who
confessedly evidence vastly superior originality of conception and
power of ideal expression in the fields of belles-lettres and the
fine arts than those of our age of books. Accustomed as we
are to the almost exclusive use of books as the means of acquir-
ing knowledge, too many of us have come to regard the art of
reading as the sole art for the acquisition and transmission of
ideas, and to rely upon it as the chiefest medium of moral and
aesthetic inspiration and refinement.

I have thought it necessary to offer the foregoing considera-
tions as a solution of the secret of the general mental, moral,
and aesthetic culture of the Catholic masses, and the remarkable
inspirations of genius in the days which we are apt to regard ^as
ages of general ignorance and boorishness. Although illiterate,
as we would call them, they were not beyond the refining and
instructive influence of the most learned and successful teacher
the world has ever known, the best and surest guide in the ways
of good manners and good morals, and the yet crowned queen
and generous patron of all the arts.

Now we are prepared to ask how it happened that the lives
of these elder brethren of ours were so replete with serene and
holy joy ? and whether the church may not do for us now what
she did for them then? and if so, what is this Gospel of great
joy, and when is the best time to begin the preaching of it ? To
which questions I reply : First, that the grace of the Holy
Ghost, by whose indwelling power the church becomes the in-
spirer, illuminator, teacher, and comforter of her children, is as
full and strong to-day as it was in the beginning and ever shall
be ; and though minds are proud, and hearts are dull, and wills
are slow for great sacrifices for God, yet he who will but bend his
sail to catch the least breathing of the Holy Spirit will quickly
find it drawing with wondrous power, rapidly wafting him to

1892.] THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. 743

the port of success. Second : that this Gospel of great joy, so
mightily preached to them of aforetime, in the days when books
were not, and when hearing it the hearts of the happy people
of a happy religion were kept thrilling with gladness ; when
life was sweet, yet death not feared as it is now by the coward
sceptic savant this Message which brought truth and wisdom,
and found a true echo in the minds and hearts of those who
heard it gladly, is the Gospel of Song. And third : that to men
of good will the preaching of this Good News will be welcome
at any season, but as things now are there are especial opportu-
nities offered by the season of Lent.

There you have the whole secret. The Catholic faith was
and is a happy religion because it sings its praise, its prayer,
its sacrificial worship ; singing from morn to eve, and e'en hal-
lowing the midnight hour with its melodious accents. And if
such a song of a happy religion inspired its people with happi-
ness, and spread joy and gladness like the sunlight over the
land, it was because those happy people heard and responded
to this glad Message. They, too, took up the refrain. They
raised their voices and sang with their mother as she uplifted
hers in the sanctuary ; and lo ! as they sang, not only the heart
was enlarged, but the mind opened to receive often, surely, and
I think much oftener and more readily than pride of worldly
learning now admits, direct, infused knowledge and wisdom, and
a clearer comprehension of the deeper meanings of nature and
of grace, of the mysteries of life and of death, and ,of the hid-
den workings of the hand of God here and hereafter. It is re-
lated of the aged Cornaro of Padua that he used at the age of
ninety-five to chant his prayers morning and evening with his
eleven grandchildren ; and who, writing to the Patriarch of
Aquileia said : " Oh, how fine my voice has become ! If you
were to hear me singing my prayers, accompanied with the harp,
like David, I can answer for it you would be pleased. I am sure
that I shall die singing my prayers. The thought of death
causes me no trouble, though I know at my advanced age that
it must be near, and that I was born to die." His biographer
writes of him : " Cornaro must have derived a new force and
power of interior equilibrium in that celestial life which he had
made for himself at the side of the earthly life, and in the hap-
piness which he hoped from the mercy and goodness of God."
We can now see very clearly what was the source of his " new
force and power," and of his celestial elevation of soul. It was
the devout practice of singing his prayers. In those days the

744 THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. [Feb.,

people heard the words of truth, and especially of divine truth,
emphasized and spiritualized by the tones of song ; and, what is
of far greater importance for the appropriation of truth by the
heart, they themselves sang what they knew and believed.

Again I say, there is the whole secret. We, alas ! to-day, in
the hearing of the Gospel of Joy the church announces to us at
all times are like to those who are shown a piece of printed
music, and to whom the notes and signs and words are read,
but who hear not its melody, nor know what it is to feel one's
heart thrilling with truth's joyous pulsations when we intone it
ourselves, and offer in the holy temple of worship the " hostiam
vociferationis."

Not in happier times of yore did the illiterate, but by no
means ignorant, faithful reverently stand more virile in body as
they were of mind, where now their more bookish brethren sit
with effeminate ease in the courts of the house of the Lord, and
listen like a herd of dull-brained kine to the ever-recurring invi-
tation of the divine Singer calling to them to join in her song of
prayer and praise : " Gaudete, iterum dico, gaudete ! Venite, ex-
ultemus Domino, jubilemus Deo salutari nostro ; praeoccupemus
faciem ejus in confessione, et in psalmis jubilemus ei, Jubilate
Deo, omnis terra : servite Domino in laetitia, Juvenes et virgi-
nes, senes cum junioribus laudent nomen Domini ! Gaudeamus
omnes in Domino, diem festum celebrantes, Concede nos famu-
los tuos, quaesumus, Domine Deus, perpetua mentis et corporis
sanitate gaudere : et gloriosa beatae Mariae semper virginis inter-
cessione, a praesenti liberari tristitia, et aeterna perfrui laetitia ;
Iter para tutum, ut videntes Jesum semper collaetemur." All
these and thousands more of such invitations to sing unto the
Lord with joy did not fall upon ears that heard not or appeal to
hearts that did not understand. When the old familiar sequence
was intoned by the choir :

" Coelum gaude, terra plaude,
Nemo mutus sit in laude ":

Heaven and earth their voice upraising,
No one silent be in praising

we know that such calls to the congregated worshippers were
not regarded as merely formal exhortations to them as they now
have so widely become, but were quickly and heartily responded
to. Fervently, devoutly, with hearts throbbing with gladness,
and countenances radiant with holy pride and joy, they filled the
sanctuaries of religion with resounding outbursts of melody. One

1892.] THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. 745

of the responsories for Matins in the office of the dedication of
a church proves that the people then were no idle, silent crowd
of sight-seers : " When the temple was dedicated the people sang
praise, and sweet in their mouths was the sound" " In dedi-
catione templi decantabat populus laudem ; et in ore eorum dul-
cis resonabat sonus."

To say that our people to-day are not happy in their religion
would not be true. That it is the evident source of the greatest
joy to them arouses the wonder and often the envy of the
stranger to their faith. Catholics haste with eager, joyful foot-
steps to the church, and are seen returning home with bright
and smiling faces, cheery in. manner and speech. But consoling
as all this is, it can be multiplied a thousand-fold. The fire of
divine love which burns within their breasts can be fanned into
a brilliant flame, whose light and heat shall not only consume
them with ardent charity, but whose beams shall spread abroad
in other minds and hearts the illuminating splendor of the divine
faith they possess ; and whose mission is to beatify the world.
" I am come to bring fire upon the earth ; and what will I but
that it be kindled !" said he on whose birthday the church sings :
" Hodie illuxit nobis dies redemptionis novae, reparationis antiquae,
felicitatis aeternae."

Truth and praise and prayer can be read in a book. It is
well. They can be heard by the ear from the mouths of those
who are fitted by science and sanctity to speak them. It is
better. They can be sung and listened to with devout consent
and admiration. It is still better. But he who would have his
mind thoroughly illuminated with truth, who would appropriate
it, and live by it, and build his eternal destiny thereon, espe-
cially truth revealed to him from heaven, must himself proclaim
it. Were it only to deepen his own faith, much more if he
would aid in strengthening the faith of others, he must do more
than simply utter it ; he must become, in the measure of his
own powers and gifts, its inspired bard, and SING it ! Such a
singer was the Psalmist when he chanted : " The mercies of the
Lord I will sing for ever : I will show forth thy truth with my
mouth to generation and generation." To the same melodious
proclamation of the truth does its great Apostle stir us up when
he writes : " Let the word of Christ dwell in you abundantly
in all wisdom ; teaching and admonishing one another in
psalms, and hymns, and spiritual canticles ; singing in your hearts
in grace to God ! "

Would we fitly offer the sacrifice of praise and prayer?

746 THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. [Feb.,

Then also we must, with the Psalmist, consecrate it with the
unction of melody. " Praise the Lord, O my soul ; in my life I
will praise the Lord ; I will sing to my God as long as I shall
live." " I will praise thee, O Lord, with my whole heart ; in
the council of the just, and in the congregation."

" Blessed is the people that knoweth jubilation." But how
can the people be so blessed who are strangers to the power,
the joy, and the inspiration of song? Holy Mardochai prayed
not in vain : " Hear my supplication, and be merciful to thy
lot and inheritance, and turn our mourning into joy, that we
may live and praise thy name, O Lord, and shut not the
mouths of them that sing unto thee."

O ye to whom the people look to be led in the paths of
justice, truth, and peace ! whose lips teach them wisdom, and at
the sound of whose voice their hearts leap for joy, do ye not
hear them praying to hear from your mouths this Gospel of joy,
the Gospel of Song, the Gospel which will make them know
God better, love and serve him with greater ardor, bless their
homes and children, lighten their hours of labor, and fill them
with yearnings for the hour of praise and prayer when they can
come and join with their brethren in the great congregation,
there to be themselves the singers of the psalm : " I was glad
when they said unto me : Let us go into the house of the
Lord ; our feet were standing in thy courts, O Jerusalem ! " As
you know, you are not prayed to preach a Gospel of strange,
unheard-of meaning in the church of God. Wherever the people
have heard it, it has come to them as come the glad tidings of
the return home of an old and true friend. Catholic instinct
quickly detects what is for or against the harmony of faith ;
what makes for God's glory and their own sanctification. There
is no need to say here, what is so well known, how eagerly they
have welcomed the call upon them to break the bonds of silence
so long imposed by a false tradition, nor how hearty have been
the words of blessing and encouragement from bishops and
priests in this and foreign lands upon every effort made to
bring the people to sing. Judging from the manner of its popu-
lar reception everywhere, the common and hearty assent to
every argument offered in its favor, and the gratifying success
of every effort made to introduce it, observant witnesses have
been led to confidently assert that ''congregational singing has
come to stay."

The object of this article is to urge the preaching of the
good news, and without delay. Lent is, perhaps, the best time

1892.] THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. 747

to begin, as already said. For Lent is the time of extra devo-
tional services, just the fit occasions to invite the crowd of wor-
shippers to sing, as best they may, a few devout hymns. They
will thus learn to unlock their silent lips. A few encouraging
words, spoken with confident assurance of success, is all the pre-
paratory instruction needed. Sufficient power and ability to use
it is there; all that is necessary is to say to them Sing!

The point to be aimed at is to get the people of this gener-
ation to sing, and to sing the praises of God in church. Blessed
are our people that they are familiar with God, and* not shame-
faced to do what they feel he is pleased to have them do. So,
where congregational singing has been honestly tried, no matter
how unpromising the supposed or real ability of the congrega-
tion, the result has fully justified the effort, and proved beyond
all question that the people, just as they are, old and young,
can sing and will sing, and sing with great devotion and joy.
Putting off the trial until a new generation has grown up of
those who are now children is simply putting it off to a morrow
that never comes. I fear these too timorous advocates of an in-
definite postponement .of the seasonable time to preach this joy-
ous Gospel overlook the fact that probably the majority of the
adults now despaired of as singers were not long ago children
in some Sunday or day school, in which they learned to sing a
little ; enough, any way, to rely upon as a taste of what they
naturally thirst for, and would eagerly make an effort to get
more of if the chance were offered them.

Congregations are always larger in Lent ; but where singing
has been introduced the attendance has doubled and even
trebled ; and the verdict of the people has everywhere been the
same : Never have we spent such a happy Lent ! No wonder.
Song is the expression of the happy heart. Even now, though
forced to be silent before the altar, they still think most earnest
thoughts of love and contrition, of praise and prayer ; and many
a heart is profoundly moved, even to the shedding of abundant
tears, as the story of the Stations of the Lord's Passion and
Death is told in their hearing. But now open their mouths
that they may give full and thrilling expression to all these
thoughts. Lo ! the change is as the resurrection of dry bones
to vigorous, warm, palpitating life ! Each one becomes, not
only self-inspired, but an inspirar of his brethren. That is what
St. Paul meant by " admonishing one another commonentes
vobismetipsis in psalms and hymns and spiritual canticles, sing-
ing in grace in your hearts to God."
VOL. LIV. 48

748 TifE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. [Feb.,

Song is contagious ; in a congregation of people who have
come to pray it acts like a quick leaven with marvellous power
to unify all hearts; thus realizing that desirable end, so much
overlooked, which is sought by the church in bringing the faith-
ful together at Holy Mass and Vespers and other public devo-
tions ; that the act of worship shall be not only the act of in-
dividual worship, but a common, congregational, united act, a
spiritual communion of the people, Congregati in unum !

Love is the fulfilling of the law. The end of all religion
is the love of God and our neighbor. Congregational worship
cements the bonds of human and divine charity. The principle
is founded in man's nature, and no religious system, true or
false, has failed to recognize its truth. Catholicity, more than
any other religion, confirms this prompting of nature, elevates
and sanctifies it ; and has succeeded in founding and maintain-
ing a brotherhood of man past all rivalling. An example will
show how strictly the church conforms her practice with the
principle. When, for certain good reasons, some great and
worthy families have been honored with the privilege of a pri-
vate chapel at home, such private worship is forbidden to them
a certain number of days in the year, and they are obliged to
come and unite with the common congregation at the Holy
Sacrifice, there to commune with the lowest and humblest of
their brethren in Christ, though side by side with them kneel
their own bondsmen. How wonderfully consistent is the church,
even in matters which might seem to be of minor importance !

Joy is love's first-born. " Quam bonum et quam jucundum,
habitare fratres in unum ! " If, then, this great joy is to be im-
parted to the people, and the mission of the Christian Gospel of
charity is to be fulfilled, then whatever tends to strengthen the
unity of the faithful in their common congregational worship of
God should be prized at its true worth, and every effort made
to secure the means to this desirable end. Let them obey the
call of the church to assemble in one place ; let them sit, stand,
and kneel as one ; let their hearts be brought, by the preacher's
instruction, admonition, and fervent appeal, to beat in unison
with the theme of the feast or the fast that is celebrated : all
that is good, and not only good but necessary that the people
may be kept in love of, and made happy in the exercise of,
their religion. But if this means of spiritual joy is to be car-
ried to its fullest application, then this congregational commu-
nion must be cemented, elevated, and spiritualized by song. If
it is to be said of our Catholic people with the Psalmist, "They

1892.] THE APOSTOLATE OF CONGREGATIONAL SONG. 749

shall be inebriated with the plenty of thy house, and thou shalt
make them drink of the torrent of thy delights," then must the
Gospel of congregational singing, the Gospel of Love's highest
expression and of the purest joy, be preached to them. I say,
let it be preachecl. There is no doubt about its ready and fer-
vent acceptance.

One more word to him who reads. Looking abroad upon
the many and vast fields of apostolic work, and deeply moved
at the view of so much of urgent importance waiting to be ac-
complished for God's glory and the people's happiness, may one
not justly cry out with the Lord, " The harvest indeed is great,
but the laborers are few ! " What a glorious and consoling
apostolate is here for many a true evangelist ! What abundant
fruits await the hands of those who love God with more than a
common love and are yearning to do something for him. How
many such there are blessed by him with musical gifts who
might thus show a little gratitude in return for what has added
joy upon joy to their own lives, and intensified their apprecia-
tion of the loveliness and charm of all things human and divine.
I speak not only of priests, but of laymen endowed with this
talent. Surely there is a work here to arouse the deepest inter-
est in generous minds. May my readers pray the Lord to
send such laborers into his harvest, so fully ripe indeed that
less than a dozen of such apostles of song, giving their whole
energies to its ingathering, might live to fill the churches of the
land with song and the hearts of the people with divinest joy.
Enviable priesthood consecrated to offer so sweet a sacrifice !
The prophetic Singer of the old and new Israel surely saw the
elect ones for such an oblation when he sang : " Circuivi et im-
molavi in tabernaculo ejus hostiam vociferationis ; Cantabo, et
psalmum dicam domino ! " I have gone about and have offered
in his tabernacle the sacrifice of vociferation ; I will sing and
intone a psalm to the Lord.

ALFRED YOUNG.

75 STORY OF A CONVERSION. [Feb.,

STORY OF A CONVERSION.

I WAS born in a little village in the State of New Hamp-
shire, and, like many another Yankee girl, was brought up with
a deep love for the religion of my mother, and an intense con-
tempt for the Church of Rome.

I became an Anglican sister in one of their communities,
and after years of doubt I have at last found peace and rest in
the old ship of Peter.

There are many in the Anglican communities of " sisters "
who are from time to time drawn to the Catholic Church, but
are misled and frightened by false guides, so that the grace
passes away with no result. Perhaps, could it ever reach them,
the experience of one more happily circumstanced might be
helpful.

I had been some five years an Anglican sister when I re-
ceived a great shock from the conversion of my only brother, a
" Cowley father," to the Catholic Church. He was, unfortu-
nately, in England. I could not see him, and I was only per-
mitted to see his letters on condition they contained no word
of controversy.

I could not believe, as I was told, that he had gone wilfully
astray. I was sure his intention was to please God, however
mistaken he might be. 1 asked to read up the question on both
sides, but was refused on the ground that Roman books were a
tissue of lies and misquotations. I remember many discussions
with a dear young friend, who was vainly searching for light
like myself. We decided there was no way of finding out
the truth. We were referred to the Holy Scriptures, and to
the primitive church for the only infallible authority. We knew
that every one reached a different result from a perusal of the
Bible, and if the translations from the fathers were so false as
we had been told, it would be necessary to read them in the
original to use their authority. "We had better give up the
problem as impossible to solve," we said.

I was at the same time startled by the question carelessly
put by a young Episcopal minister who was of the " Broad
Church " persuasion. I was then very much absorbed in ritual-
ism, and was asserting my opinion in the positive way of that
positive sect. He smiled, and quietly asked, "What is your

1892.] STORY OF A CONVERSION. 751

authority?" What, indeed, was my authority for anything? I
was brought up against a stone wall with no way of escape.

I went with my puzzles and doubts to one who was most
justly revered and beloved by all who knew him, and the infalli-
ble authority to his sisters. A Protestant lady once said the
sisters firmly believe in the infallibility of the pope, but they
make the mistake of thinking the pope is Dr.

He frankly told me that he had had at one time a great
attraction to the Catholic Church, and now never allowed him-
self to open a book of controversy lest his peace should be de-
stroyed. This should have convinced me ; but so desirous was I
not to be convinced that I decided to do likewise, and only too
soon succeeded in chasing all troublesome doubts away.

Now see the unconscious influence of this man's interior
convictions. Among those he called his spiritual children there
are living now a Jesuit father, a contemplative of the order
of the Precious Blood, a Sister of Charity, and a Sister of Mercy.
Verily there was truth in the bitter remark of one of the mem-
bers of that most divided of all the- Protestant sects: "The
church of is nothing more than a gateway to Rome."

Ten years later I was working in the sisters' hospital, and
was very happy. The superior made the remark, that " for once
she had put the round woman in the round hole." And I said
to a .friend that " the only doubt I had as to whether I was
on the right road to heaven was, that there was no cross." I
mention this because it is always said of a convert that it was
dissatisfaction, restlessness, etc., which was the ruling motive.
My brother had joined the Society of Jesus in England at the
time of his conversion. He had just been ordained. His old
father had a great desire to see his only son again. We feared
he might be sent away on a foreign mission. So I said : " Father,
let us go over to Scotland this summer, in my vacation, and see
." He readily consented, but I had to obtain leave from
my superior. I was very desirous to go, but perfectly satisfied
with my position and no longer troubled with doubts. I was
little given to prayer, but this time prayed most earnestly that
I might obtain my superior's consent. I went up to see her
with a doubtful heart, and to my surprise gained the consent
not only to go, but also to hear my brother preach should oc-
casion serve.

I will not tire your patience with an account of our delight-
ful visit in that bonny land. I was all ready to meet with
" Jesuit wiles" and to resent any attempt at conversion, but

752 STORY OF A CONVERSION. [Feb.,

no such attempt was made. My brother simply devoted himself
to our enjoyment, and said no word on the subject of religion ;
but he will forgive me, if I say his humility and charity were
too evident not to be seen even by Protestant eyes.

One Saturday, in Edinburgh, he told us he would preach the
next day, and we went to hear him. His sermon was before
the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. Just touching on the saint's
love for the poor, he went directly off on the marks of the true
church, adding the two given to St. John the Baptist the
church of the poor and of miracles.

I listened first with astonishment, and then in almost anger
and growing hopelessness. It was the first time Catholic truth
had been presented to me. *' One, holy, Catholic, Apostolic "
had I not been saying this Sunday after Sunday ever since I
could remember anything, never stopping to give the meaning
any thought? Slowly and most unwillingly was the conviction
forced upon me. I managed to put it away until I came back
to the hospital. There, in the quiet of the wards and the chapel,
I could do so no longer., There was a, long and fierce struggle,
but at last there came a day when I could say, Lord, if this
be true I am willing to believe. After this I seemed to be
carried along without any volition on my part.

The only Catholic I knew was a Sister of Charity, a convert.
I will go and see her, I thought. I will ask her if she has, ever
repented the step she has taken. I shall know the truth from
her face, even if she will not tell mo.

She was praying in chapel, so she told me afterwards, and
complaining to our Lord that he gave her so little to do for
souls. As she came out she was met by the sister-servant, who
said : " Here* is a soul who needs your help, I think." I went
to see her and put my question solemnly, and was quite unpre-
pared for the burst of merry laughter which followed it, at the
absurdity of the idea.

Well, the dear sister took me in hand, and did not leave
me until I was received. I remember, while the struggle of my
passage to the light was going on. a prayer which was con-
stantly in my heart : " O send out thy light and thy truth, that
they may lead me and bring me into thy Holy Hill and to thy
dwelling."

When I opened my new missal to assist at Mass the first
thing that met my eyes was : " Send forth thy light and thy
truth ; they have conducted me and brought me unto thy Holy
Mount and unto thy Tabernacles."

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 753

THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW.

THE most important event in the past year affecting labor
questions was the publication of the Encyclical of the Pope, by
which the attitude of the church and the spirit in which these
questions should be approached by Catholics has been deter-
mined. The chief source of the Sovereign Pontiff's joy at the
Christmas of the past year was due to the success which has al-
ready resulted from his efforts for the solution of these problems,
and the enormous influence which the Encyclical has already ex-
erted upon both employers and working-men. In referring to
this the Holy Father took occasion, to point out that the mere
knowledge of the true solution was not sufficient that it was
necessary to carry true principles into practical effect. For other
events worthy of note during the past year we should have to
mention the successful strike of the omnibus men in London and
Paris, the unsuccessful strikes of the railway men in Scotland
and of the dock-workers in Cardiff. What, however, would be
more worthy of note is the growing disinclination to the strike-
policy, the turning to legislative action as a better means of
amelioration, and the more complete organization of working-
men which is being accomplished by the affiliation of trade
unions among themselves. The year upon which we are enter-
ing promises a further development of this movement, and as
the general election will in all probability take place in Great
Britain in the autumn, an opportunity will be afforded for work-
ing-men to exert their political power in the choice of represen-
tatives. It will be interesting to watch the effect upon the old
political parties of their action.

In Great Britain there has been no serious conflict between
workmen and their employers since our last notes appeared ; on
the contrary, a salutary sense of the evils entailed by these con-
tests seems to be strong on both sides. This may be due to the
fact that the volume of trade has diminished and fears are felt
that times of depression are imminent. But it is not to this
alone that these good results are due. For undoubtedly a better
feeling has spread between the opposed forces. This is shown
by the formation of a large number of Conciliation Boards in
various parts of the kingdom. Our readers may remember an

754 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Feb.,

account given in these notes of the action at the close of 1889
of the London Chamber of Commerce in this matter. Since that
time no fewer than twenty-one boards, formed on lines closely
resembling those of the London board, have been established in
the principal business towns of England and Scotland, and many
disputes between masters and men have been settled by their

influence.

The movement in favor of the legal eight-hours day is still
maintained by large numbers, perhaps even by the majority, of
working-men, although it has been discountenanced, as we have
already noticed, by the leaders of the Liberal party. Mr. Glad-
stone himself, appealed to by a working-man, seems to look on it
with little favor in view of its involving the imposition of legal
penalties upon any workman who should work for more than
eight hours a day: Mr. Gladstone doubts whether this would be
patiently borne by the liberty-loving British subject. The attain-
ment of the same end by voluntary arrangement the alternative
method has made a step forward. A large firm of engineers
have, spontaneously and proprio motu, granted an eight-hours
day to their employees, provided a reduction of five per cent, in
wages should be acceded to. This has been promptly accepted,
and the experiment is being watched with considerable interest.
Should it be a success it will lead to a wide extension in that
branch of industry.

The miners' strike in the north of France, in which at one
time there were nearly 40,000 engaged, resulted in another
triumph of the method of arbitration. The employers, on the
one hand, and their workmen on the other, consented to appoint
six representatives on each side, and after two or three days' de-
liberations terms were agreed upon which, while not giving to
either party all it demanded, were accepted by both, and so the
strike, which had lasted for nearly four weeks, and which in some
places had been marked by violence and conflicts with the mili-
tary, was brought to a conclusion. The employers declared their
desire that the Miners' Relief and Pension Fund Bill should be
passed as soon as possible, and pledged themselves to the accep-
tance of all sacrifices that the law might entail. On the other
hand, the miners recognized the impracticability of the eight-
hours day, which had been one of the principal objects of the
strike, and were satisfied with an improvement in wages. The
most interesting feature of the strike was the putting to the test
which it afforded of the promise made by the English miners at

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 755

the Miners' Congress held in the spring of last year, that they
would prevent the importation into France of English coal in
the event of there being a strike either in France or Belgium.
No sooner, however, had the strike commenced than the district
was flooded with circulars from English coal merchants offering
their coal in place of that which had been stopped. The excuse
offered was that, as the orders for coal pass through so many in-
termediaries, it was impossible for the English miners to carry
out their proposal, except by means of a general stoppage of
work, which would punish the innocent as well as the guilty.
This shows the difficulties involved in the plans of interna-
tional action on the part of working-men.

Among the demands of the working-men a leading place is
held by their claim for a more equal share of the profits pro-
duced by their toil, and loud have been the complaints that
capital grasps by far too large a portion. The fact that the cap-
ital often belongs, although not always by any means, to one
person, while the share apportioned to labor must be divided
among a large number, accentuates the apparent inequality.
Generally, also, it is taken for granted that there are always pro-
fits to share, the fact being forgotten that in most trades periods
of depression occur in which there are no profits to divide.
This, in fact, is the rock upon which many profit-sharing schemes
have been wrecked. The result of an important inquiry institut-
ed by the English Board of Trade into the actual apportion-
ment of the profits of various businesses between the capitalist
and his workmen has recently been published, from which we
give a few examples. Taking a farm, the total value of whose
produce was 5,000, what would be the labor bill ? The answers
given were widely divergent. In ten cases the proportion of la-
bor to produce was between twenty and twenty-five per cent.; in
seven, between twenty-five and thirty per cent.; in ten, between
thirty and forty per cent.; and in eight, over forty per cent.; the
ratio in one case being 75.2 per cent. These figures refer to a
year in which crops were bad or prices low. If we take the
farmer's accounts for periods of three to ten years, the wages
bill would absorb of the 5,000 about 1,250 to 1,500. The
other expenditure would leave to the farmer as profit about
100 to 1,000; sometimes, indeed, there would be a dead loss
to him.

If we turn to coal-mining the figures published show that of
the cost of production of coal fifty-five per cent, is for wages,

756 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Feb.,

eight per cent, for royalties, twenty-five per cent, for miscel-
laneous charges, leaving eleven or twelve per cent, as the profits
of the owners or lessees in good years. Another set of figures
shows that about one-half went for wages, leaving, after all
charges had been paid, only 7.8 per cent, for the capitalist. More-
over, since 1885 there appears to have been an increase of about
twenty-eight per cent, in wages. In the iron and steel trade the
labor bill accounts for about half the cost of production. Ex-
perts, speaking from experience in times of low prices, put the
share of the workman as high as fifty-two to sixty-four per cent.
The returns furnished by fourteen companies show that for every
100 worth of pig-iron, 59 go in cost of materials, such as ore
and coal, 10 in rent and miscellaneous charges, 23 in labor,
leaving 6 to 7 profit. In ship-building the artificers take from
one-third to two-thirds of the total outlay. In the cotton indus-
try the proportion of wages to profits is various, and no very
satisfactory returns were made. One firm confidentially stated
that this proportion was as 2.37 to I, the wages absorbing about
two-thirds of the total value of the products. A fact brought
out in the report is that wages are much more stable than
profits in most of the trades examined.

These statements are, we believe, trustworthy so far as they
go. They do not, however, give a complete exposition of the
matter, and it may well be that the capitalists most to blame,
those who absorb an unjust proportion of the profits, are pre-
cisely the ones who have failed to reveal the facts. But making
all allowances, it would seem that the employers' profits cannot
fairly be said to be exorbitant. This view of the case is confirmed
and illustrated by an interesting return which was published
some little time ago by the Massachusetts Bureau of Labor Sta-
tistics. This report deals with 10,013 factories in which were
produced 69.21 per cent, of the total value of the manufactured
products of the State. Of these 10,013 factories 762 made no
profit. The average net profit for all the industries was 3.9 per
cent, of the selling price of the goods, and was equivalent to
4.83 per cent, on the capital invested. Taking each $100 of total
cost as the unit, it was found that the stock, including raw or
manufactured materials, came to $67.67, salaries $1.98, wages $25.-
66, rent $0.64, insurance $0.38, freight $1.48, and the remainder
in equipment, repair, and other expenses. Wages, therefore, on
the average are more than a quarter of the total cost of produc-
tion. In regard to selling price, it is found that in every $100
stock or materials come to $58.91, wages $22.34, and the whole

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 757

to $87.05, leaving $12.95 excess of selling price over cost of pro-
duction. This is the manufacturer's gross profit on each $100
selling price, and is equivalent to $16.01 per cent, on the capi-
tal. Deducting from this gross profit five per cent, for interest
on cash and credit capital, ten per cent, for depreciation in
machinery and tools, and five per cent, for selling expenses,
losses and bad debts, and 3.90 per cent, is left for the manu-
facturer, or 4.83 per cent, on the capital invested. Many other
interesting facts were brought to light by this investigation, for
which we have no space ; and any reader interested in these

matters cannot do better than read the report for himself.

The fidelity of Free Traders to their principles is being

severely tested. New South Wales, the one colony of Great Bri-
tain which has not hitherto adopted protection, seems on the
point of defection from the free-trade policy to which she has
so steadfastly adhered. France has denounced the commercial
treaties which were favorable to moderate duties and is on the
point of making a large increase all round. Even in Great Bri-
tain there are members of Parliament whose seats are looked
upon as safe on account of their advocacy of the principles of
the Imperial Trade League. If we except Turkey, Great Britain
is the only nation which is now in favor of free trade. There is
some slight hope, however, that what cannot be secured directly
may be brought about indirectly. The commercial treaties re-
cently concluded between Austria-Hungary, Germany, Italy, Bel-
gium, arid Switzerland established between those countries a
system of moderate duties, and as they cannot be altered for
eleven years, they will be an obstacle to the advance of pro-
tection. Germany in particular, by entering into this arrangement,
departs from the policy of high tariff which was inaugurated
by Prince Bismarck, and departs from it because it is generally
recognized that it has not succeeded. In course of time it is
hoped that other nations, Spain, Sweden, and the Balkan States,
will enter this circle, and then the era of prohibitive tariffs, at
all events, will close. How this will affect the nations left out-
side remains to be seen.

For there is no doubt that political motives have had not a
little to do with the adoption of the new economic policy. The
dominating states in the new Commercial Alliance are the three
which make up the Triple Alliance, and it is hoped that the es-
tablishment of identical commercial interests will consolidate
more completely the more important political alliances. Nor can
it be said that the powers which make up the Triple Alliance

758 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Feb.,

are the aggressors. Commercial war was entered upon by France
with Italy two or three years ago, and by her more recent de-
nunciation of the treaties with other nations and the adoption of
a higher tariff, France is making what the Temps styles " an iron
ring " around herself. In this action of France political motives
had a large share. The outcome of all may be that Europe will
be divided into two rival alliances, each of which will approxi-
mate towards free trade within its own sphere while adopting
towards all who are outside a high degree of protection.

The Conference on Rural Reforms recently held in London
is interesting both in itself and also as an illustration of English
political methods. It was held under the auspices of the
National Liberal Federation, of which Mr. Schnadhorst is the
moving spirit. Consequently it was primarily a political assembly,
held in furtherance of the Gladstonian campaign. Every delegate
in attendance had been nominated by the local political associa-
tion, and before he received his invitation the nomination was
carefully scrutinized by the central General Purposes Committee.
This detracts considerably from the title of the conference to
represent without bias the opinions of the mass of rural laborers.
However, it shows that the leaders of Mr. Gladstone's forces are
not doctrinaires dominated by cut-and-dried theories of their own
devising, but men anxious to call into counsel some of the per-
sons most deeply interested, and most likely to know the needs
of their class and the remedies for the evils from which it suf-
fers. In the list of delegates were found such descriptions as
agricultural laborer, allotment holder, small farmer, cowman,
herdsman, and rural postman, and there were also present the
village carpenter, the village blacksmith, and the village shoe-
maker.

What, in the opinion of these delegates, are the chief griev-
ances of the rural population of England, and what are the
remedies for their ills ? The list of both the one and the other
would be long ; two things, however, were insisted upon with all but
absolute unanimity. The tyranny of the parson formed the
burden of every speech. " The unhappy parson's sins were re-
hearsed in every variety of the English tongue. Suffolk sung
them, Kent and Norfolk drawled them, Cornwall rehearsed them
in sharp staccato." That the Established Church had completely
lost its hold upon these delegates was clear. The second point
was a practical unanimity in favor of a land policy which should'
embrace the securing of land at a fair rent, land and cottages
at a fixed tenure, and compensation for improvements. Only

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 759

one speaker declared for land-nationalization, and only two
or three advocated peasant-proprietorship. " We don't want the
land for nothing," said one fine yeoman, " but for a fair market
rent." " Good culture is penal " was the cry of several speakers.
The establishment of parish councils, which, among other
powers, should have the control of the schools, was a proposal
which met with general acceptance. It is thought that the prac-
tical outcome of the Conference will be the introduction of a
new Local Government Act to establish village councils, and of
a new Agricultural Holdings Act to secure for English laborers
and farmers the three F's. The project of giving state help for
the purchase of holdings, which was advocated at the meeting of
the Conservative Association held at Birmingham, does not ap-
pear to have been discussed.

*
The objection entertained by many temperance advocates to

the Gothenburg Licensing System, by which the licenses for pub-
lic houses are placed in the hands of a company and the profits
over six per cent, made over to the town, has been obviated by
the method adopted in many of the cities of the neighboring
kingdom of Norway. The stumbling-block consisted in the fact
that the system made the development of liquor-selling advan-
tageous to the rate-payers, inasmuch as the greater the profits
the less were the rates, and consequently rendered the authori-
ties more willing to grant licenses. The cities of Norway, while
preserving the main outlines of the Gothenburg plan, instead of
devoting the surplus to the reduction of the public burdens,
grant it to the funds of deserving charities, benevolent societies,
and other objects which are entirely dependent upon the volun-
tary support of the public. The smallest contribution from the
rates to an institution disqualifies it for any participation in the
funds springing from liquor-selling profits. The effect of this
system, combined with the stringent regulation adopted in addi-
tion, has been to deal to drunkenness in Norway a staggering
blow, and to bring about an immense reduction in the consump-
tion of spirits. Moreover the charitable institutions have greatly

profited.

While Mr. Chamberlain's committee is elaborating the details
of its scheme for old-age pensions, and has decided that such
scheme must be voluntary, Mr. Charles Booth (no relation of the
general of the Salvation Army) has given to the public a plan
of his own for providing for the aged poor. Mr. Booth is per-
haps the best authority on the actual state of the poor of Lon-
don. He has devoted his time and fortune to an elaborate in-

760 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Feb.,

vestigation into the question, part of the results of which have
seen the light in two volumes already published. Anything
proposed by him is worthy of and will receive the most serious
attention. And first of all with reference to the number for
whom provision is to be made. Mr. Chamberlain estimated the
number of paupers above the age of sixty-five at one-half of the to-
tal population. Mr. Booth's estimate is not quite so high, being
forty in every hundred. This, however, is quite a large enough
proportion of the population of the country to make the question
one of national importance.

The plan for dealing with this large population differs from
Mr. Chamberlain's in being compulsory. The money is to be
found by taxation. At the age of sixty-five he would have every
one in England and Wales enter on a pension of five shillings,
or about one dollar, a week. To raise what seems so inadequate
an amount the annual cost would be about seventeen millions of
pounds, or eighty-five millions of dollars. What likelihood is
there that the electors would consent to so large an increase of
taxation as this would involve ? To answer this question Mr.
Booth divides the population into five classes : (i) the quite
poor, 50 a year and less ; (2) fair working-class position, 60 to
;ioo and over; (3) lower middle class, 150 to 200; (4) mid-
dle class, 300 to 1,000; more or less wealthy, .1,000 and up-
wards. With the first two classes (who include more than half
the population, and who pay very little direct taxation) he
thought the scheme would be popular, as providing at once for
the aged, and as assisting to provide for their own old age.
The middle class, he expected, would be much divided in
opinion, and rather averse on the whole, and the upper middle
and wealthy would look upon it with dread, and would need to
be very fully convinced that the money would be well spent,
that the scheme had elements of finality, and was not an attack
on private property.

The small sum of one dollar per week which would be the
total benefit derived by each individual under the scheme has
been fixed as, on the one hand, sufficient to make the friends of
the aged willing and able to provide for them, and, on the other,
not sufficient to discourage thrift. On the principle that " he
who has wants more," the certainty of this small sum being as-
sured would lead (it is thought) working people to diligence in
order thereby to add to it. The Friendly Societies, also, would
find ample scope for themselves and their work in providing a
more ample allowance. As every one, rich and poor, is to be en

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 761

titled to the pension on the attainment of the age of sixty-five, it
is hoped, too, that self-respect will not be endangered, and that
it will be free from the taint of pauperism which forms so great
a blot on the present poor-law system. Such are the main out-
lines of Mr. Booth's scheme. Whether or not it stands any
chance of being adopted, it is too soon to say. It has, however,
met with wide-spread approval.

From the projects of Mr. Charles Booth we pass to the
achievements of Mr. William Booth, the general of the Salva-
tion Army. The first report of the Social scheme, the practical
inauguration of which was due to the book In Darkest England,
has just been issued. The amount raised in donations was 103,-
192. In addition to this the Salvation Army gave property worth
4,884, making a total of 106,135. Of this the city colony has
absorbed 33,722, the farm colony 30,550, and to the over-the-
sea colony 25,000 has been appropriated as a reserve fund.
The latter has not yet been brought into active operation. For
the farm colony 1,236 acres of land have been secured in the
neighborhood of London, on which 210 men are now resident,
and, although the weather has been bad, this colony has paid its
working expenses within the small amount of 116. In the city
there are now no less than 43 institutions, shelters, food depots,
knitting and match factories and other shops worked as anti-
sweating establishments. Some of these are self-supporting.
2,500,000 meals have been supplied and 347,209 homeless people
received. In the labor bureau 17,142 applications were dealt
with. The cost of management for the year has been 17,000.
The Amount of the annual expenses when all the colonies are es-
tablished is estimated at 30,000, and an appeal is made for this
sum. For this work of General Booth in itself nothing but sym-
pathy and admiration can be felt. The sympathy of Catholics,
however, depends upon his fidelity to the principles to which he
has pledged himself. One of these was that there would be no
interference with the religious belief of those to whom he might
give relief. If confidence can be placed in the statements of a
writer in the Times, this promise has not been kept. On the
contrary every one in one of the shelters visited by the writer
was forced to attend the religious services held by the Salvation
Army. We hope this, if true, was a solitary and exceptional
case, and that the general will secure from his subordinates the
due execution of the engagements to which he has publicly com-
mitted himself in his appeal for help.

762 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

THE late William Gifford Palgrave's posthumous and unfin-
ished Vision of Life* is, in the first place, very hard reading.
In warp and woof the texture of his verse is as gorgeous and
stiff with allusions as that of Milton, and so far-drawn and in-
tricate are these at times, that even the faithful but anonymous
editor, whose labor has been so necessary and in the main so
thorough, has not always been able to unravel them. And, in
the second place, though the dignified, and even stately, flow of
Mr. Palgrave's verse is almost unbroken, and very frequently
most beautiful, yet whoever reads this book attentively will prob-
ably be more interested in it as a revelation of its author's per-
sonality than as a poem.

That personality was admittedly noteworthy and strange.
The second son of Sir Francis Palgrave, the historian, William
Gifford Palgrave was born at Westminster in 1826. On leaving
Oxford, where he won distinction in classics and mathematics,
he adopted the army as a profession, but after a few years'
service quitted it to become a Roman Catholic and enter the
Society of Jesus. He was received into the order at their house
in the Presidency of Madras, and spent fifteen years in laboring
to convert the Arabs, for whom he had early felt an especial
attraction, under the banner of St. Ignatius. When their mission
at Beyrout was temporarily suspended, at the time of the Druse
persecution, Palgrave seems to have obtained the consent of his
religious superiors to accept a commission from Napoleon III. to
penetrate into Arabia and report on various matters in which
the emperor was interested. He returned to Europe in 1863,
and shortly after abandoned not only the Jesuits but the Chris-
tian faith. Like many Englishmen who have lived much in the
East, says the brief biographical sketch prefixed to the poem,
he was penetrated by the strange fascination of India, Siam, and
China ; Japan, above all, mastering him awhile by the spell
which, in different ways, she has laid upon many of his country-
men. " Shintoism," which Sir Edwin Arnold has recently
affirmed to be a religion without a God, and which is a form

* A Vision of Life. Semblance and Reality. By William Gifford Palgrave, sometime
Scholar of Trinity College, Oxford, and Her Majesty's Minister Resident in Uruguay. Lon-
don and New York : Macmillan & Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 763

of nature-worship, strongly appealed to his imagination, and
while under its spell he planned his poem and apparently wrote
more than half of it. In 1868 he married, and has left three
sons behind him. Just twenty years later, near the close of
1888, he died suddenly at Montevideo, leaving his work unfin-
ished. He had been " duly and formally reconciled to Rome,"
three years earlier, says his biographer, and ended his career

" with an inward happiness and conviction long lost, in that
Communion to the service of which his best days had been
devoted."

Only the first book of his " Vision " is complete, and even
that does not appear in its original integrity, the conscientious
editor having excised " some few passages dealing with Reli-
gion " because of his certainty that, they would not have been
inserted had Palgrave himself lived to issue it. He thinks it
probable that in the main it would have been left as it now is,
and then submitted " to the judgment of the Church, more
Romano" The tone of the poem, which in this and part of the
second book breathes natural religion only, becomes distinctly
Christian and Catholic in the third. A vision of St. Teresa,

" . . . that loveliest Form, fountain and spring
Of Carmel's renovate streams,"

and her revelations to the poet concerning the seventh heaven
and who may reach it, and by what diverse ways, fills the penul-
timate canto. The last is an invocation to Our Blessed Lord as
God and Man. But neither of these is fully completed.

The entire poem is modelled on that of Dante's " Vision," to
adopt Gary's title for the Divine Comedy, save that it contem-
plates no hell, but only progressive" lustration for all who have
failed, and not entirely by their own fault, of perfect cleansing
here. The action passes in "the realm of those miscalled the
dead," to which the author is led by the ruling spirit of the
star Canopus, who is also his own spiritual prototype, ruler,
and brother. There he beholds the state of those who have at
least had a not ignoble aim, who have served ambition, art,
literature, religion, physical science, earthly love and, finally, " the
Uranian love." Thus Hannibal, Napoleon, Cromwell appear to
him ; the Egyptian and Grecian sculptors ; the great Italian
painters ; Walter Scott ; Dido and Helen, but not Cleopatra,
who seems to be beyond ken,
VOL. LIV. 49

764 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

" Where dateless years of gloom efface
The life misused, . . .
There all whom angered love's avenging wrath

Has doomed to second death, the punishment
Of wasted life, dark crime, and violate faith."

It is curious, by the way, that the only exceptions to the
final purification and preserved identity contemplated by this
poem are such as this one and that of those unlucky dogs, the
scientists, for whose ploddings in matter, to the exclusion of
spirit, Palgrave seems to have felt all Bunyan's contempt for the
" Man with the muck-rake." He condescends to sarcasm only
once, and then when drawing the image of Science and her
votaries :

" Shuddering I gazed and wondered much, for there

Midmost that joyless night a woman's shape,
But queenly proud, as pampered harlots are,
Enthroned I saw ; o'er her large form a cape

Broidered with strange device was thrown, whereon
Were imaged worm and fish and bird and ape ;
Each interwoven and blent with each, that none

Could last from first divide ; a pedigree,
Though old, unhonored ; though divergent, one.
Such was the robe, the broidery such ; but she

Stranger herself by far, nor to one form
Constant, but various more than cloud or sea ;
Now, as when erst beheld, a shape difform

From the high crag she frowned, with bat-like wings
Shadowing the smoke-wreaths of th' involving storm,
And now with stateliest calm, that sceptred kings

Might from afar revere, a virgin Queen,
Greater than they, supreme o'er earthly things :
And now with shameless front and flaunted sheen

Of mimic pearl and 'gem, a harlot old,
But clad in youth's array, that Power was seen.
And a great crowd of semblance manifold,

Yet in one livery clad, her throne around,
Clustered as trooping sheep in evening fold.
While from all sides to music tuned a sound

That reverence told and worship, to mid air
Went up, like incense-mist from hallowed ground.
Yet was no lord, no god, no ruler there

In worship owned by these ; nor other shrine
Confessed, nor throne, nor rival, nor compeer.
She only great, she glorious, she divine ;

And on her brow and on her vestment's hem
Science, her name, was writ, her empire's sign."

Those who "with purpose fixed and serious mood pored o.i

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 765

earth's writhing worms " ; or who " in the infinite night's mag-
nificence a clock-work saw, no more,"

" Vanished in darkness lost ; a leaden weight,
Sunk in the fathomless ocean depths below.
Such progress Science brings, such triumphs wait

Her banner's onward march, such guerdon prove,
Who by her false-fires led, man's birthright state

From Nature's scope divorce, from Nature's Love."

Speaking of scientists recalls a curious story told by Mr.
Henry Norman in his very interesting and ' instructive book *
on Japan. He gives a striking description of the great earth-
quake which annihilated Nagasaka and several other villages
of northern Japan in 1888, and of whose ravages he was, in
a sense, a personal witness. He came after it was all over,
however, and the story to which we refer is that . of the only
disinterested eye-witness who escaped. The earthquake was
caused by an explosion of steam which converted the Sho-
Bandaisan mountain, something over five thousand feet high,
into an ocean of boiling mud which overwhelmed thirty square
miles of country. On the morning of this terrible calamity a
peasant was cutting grass for fodder on a mountain opposite,
when he heard the deafening explosion and saw the earth
begin to bob up and down. Now it happened that on his
way to work he had met a fox, and now knew that he had
been bewitched by it a common superstition of the Japanese
peasant which here stood him in great stead. In unconscious
imitation of Professor Huxley, who not long ago animadverted
on the queer folly of St. Paul in allowing himself to be con-
verted by a vision, instead of laying the "hallucination" to
the account of a disordered stomach, the peasant quietly
took out his pipe and sat down to watch the play out,
doubtless greatly pleased that his courage was equal to all the
deviltry got up by Master Reynard with the express purpose
)f deluding him. " He seated himself on a stone," says Mr.
Norman, " took out his pipe, and watched the whole eruption,
knowing it to be only a subjective phenomenon ! "

Mr. Norman's two chapters on the Arts and Crafts of Japan
contain remarks worth pondering over by Western collectors of
"old Satsuma " and other wares. Like every other traveller, he
is enthusiastic about Japanese women. It is on them, he thinks,

* The Real Japan. Studies of Contemporary Japanese Manners, Morals, Administra-
tion, and Politics. By Henry Norman. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

766 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

that the future of their country chiefly depends, and he is sure
that future will be dreary, and " old Japan " vanish from the
face of the earth, if they allow themselves to be persuaded into
adopting European dress. In that case, he prophesies that

41 the stream of foreign visitors will turn aside from Japan.
Instead of beauty there will be ashes instead of a charm that
the world cannot surpass, there will be the ugliness from which
it apparently cannot escape."

He corrects some prevalent errors concerning the Japanese
standards of morality while writing of its women, and those
whose information has been supplied chiefly by Pierre Loti can-
not do better than read Mr. Norman's account of " The Yo-
shiwari," a difficult subject, but one here treated delicately. In
his concluding chapters, " Japan for the Japanese ?" and " The
Future of Japan," notably in the former, Mr. Norman expresses
himself forcibly concerning the humiliating attitude so long im-
posed on Japan by the Foreign Treaty Powers, and goes into
interesting details of the injustice which has made the interests
of a handful of foreigners paramount in importance to those of
forty millions of natives.

The two novelettes * that make up the contents of " Theodor
Hertz-garten's " contribution to Cassell's " Unknown " library are
more strange and peculiar than interesting. They are subjective
to a degree that becomes wearisome, and that in spite of their
undeniably charming style. Each of them might be described
as a fantasia upon abnormality bordering on madness always,
and at last plunging hopelessly into its gloomy depths. Both
contain impressive passages : one instances, for example, the de-
scription, beginning on page 5 of The Red-litten Windows, of the
woman who, in a weird, unearthly fashion, does duty as heroine
of the little tale. In The Old River House, again, it is the de-
scription of a young girl, or, rather, of her reflection in the
polished wood of a pianoforte, with " sprays of flame-colored
flowers, on a projecting bracket, casting a deep glow on the
reflection of her white gown," 'which stands out most prominent-
ly in one's recollections of a couple of sketches they are not
more than that on which an exceptional amount of real talent
has been expended.

The " free translation "f made by R. N. Bain from Maurus

* Through the Red-litten Windows, and The Old River House. By Theodor Hertz-gar-
ten. New York : Cassell Publishing Company.

t Pretty Michal. A free translation of Maurus J6kai's Romance, " A Szep Mikhal." By
R. N. Bain. Cassell Publishing Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 767

J6kai's Hungarian romance, A Szep Mikhdl, is an extremely ro-
bust and vigorous specimen of story-telling. In certain ways it
is strongly reminiscent of Charles Reade's best novel, The Clois-
ter and the Hearth. While neither time, characters, nor senti-
ment are to be called modern, yet they are by no means unpleas-
antly antiquated. The author strikes the note of human nature
harder than that of accidental peculiarities. Hence the witch,
the headsmen, the Rev. Professor David Frohlich and his pretty
daughter, who is brought up without any intercourse with her
own sex on much the same plan as that advocated by Mr. Be-
sant in those delightful stories, " The Golden Butterfly " and
" My Little Girl " and with much the same results, by the way-
the robber bands with their redoubtable chiefs, the stirring ad-
ventures and " hair-breadth 'scapes " of Valentine Kalondai and
his trusty friend Simplex, bizarre as they would seem under less
skilful handling, take their place in just perspective, lose their
strangeness, and enchain the reader till the whole long tale is
told.

Mr. Grant Allen's Duchess of Powy stand* is also a novel that
will be sure to entertain many readers. The women in it, al-
beit one .of them is an accomplished burglaress, are all treated
with that deference and kindly appreciation of what is feminine
which seems to belong to Mr. Allen's theories of the sex. Poor
little Woodbine Weatherly, sacrificed to that Moloch, Girton
College, her " Intellectual Graces " and moral charms cultivated
to the highest pitch, but her physical stamina so lowered that
child-bearing proves beyond her strength, is one of his more
pleasing variations on his well-worn theme. The men, on the
other hand, with the possible exception of the two Harrisons,
are weak enough and more than bad enough to do duty in a
woman's novel. The story, however, is an interesting one, and
not calculated to harm anybody.

A very admirable talef is Sacher Masoch's New Job. How
true the report is which claims this author as a Jew in faith
we do not know. The translator's preface says that his admir-
ers praise him " as an enthusiastic illustrator of Schopenhauer's
philosophy," but that he himself denies the charge and " modest-
ly proclaims that he tries to represent life as he sees it." If he
be really a Jew, one must needs believe that he has read him-

* The Duchess of Powysland. By Grant Allen. Boston : Benj. R. Tucker.
^ The New Job. Translated by Harriet Lieber Cohen. New York : Cassell Publishing
Company.

768 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

self aright, and actually does possess the faculty of seeing what
lies before him in its true light. He has, at all events, in the
character of the Galician peasant, The"ophil Pisarenko, painted an
ideal Christian hero a hero in that hard case where endurance,
patience, loving resignation to evils which come almost solely
from the wickedness and cruelty of other men, are the only
weapons which God allows His soldier by way of equipment.
As the pastor of Zablotow very truly describes him :

"Pisarenko is a sage in his way, an Old Testament patri-
arch, a Greek philosopher, a boyar in the time of Ivan the
Terrible, a man who has suffered everything that a man can suf-
fer, without complaint, I may even say with cheerfulness and an
unshaken trust in the Lord/'

Thophil's troubles begin at his birth, when his father breaks
the ice in a brook running behind the house in order to im-
merse the child in it. " He is born to surfer," says Luka to
the mother, who feebly protests, "and he must learn betimes to
harden himself." On that first day, also, he is carried to the
parish church to be baptized. The christening party afterwards
repairs to the tavern kept by a Jew, Wolf Abeles, who reap-
pears from time to time in most of the hard places where the
" New Job " is tried. There all of them, except the mother, be-
come intoxicated, the baby is lost on the way home, though he
is soon found sleeping quietly in the snow. A pretty scene ends
the first chapter, which is called " Children and Wolves." The-
ophil, whose story progresses fast, has already begun to reflect
on the strange ways of a world in which the lord of the manor
may turn the children of his peasants out of a school-house and
set the master to training his dogs instead, and sell the keys of
the parish church to a Jew, so that

" each Sunday Wolf Abeles should bargain with the peasants for
their souls' salvation until he had raised the sum in copper gro-
schen which he demanded for the house of God."

He has begun to serve at Mass, moreover, and is so dexterous
and modest that he is usually selected in place of the other
boys for this duty. And so it happens that on one gloomy
winter morning he goes with the priest out into the country to
aid him in administering the last Sacraments to a dying forester.
On their way a pack of hungry wolves meets the little proces-
sion, Thophil, in red gown and white surplice, marching in ad-

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 769

vance with the bell, while the pastor follows with the Host,
both bareheaded and in haste.

" * Those are wolves/ said the priest quietly, beginning to
pray; 'entrust your soul to God.'

"They gave themselves up for lost. A whole troop of these
starved beasts of prey came slowly toward them. The brave boy
crossed himself, and then began ringing the bell with all his
strength, as though proclaiming to universal nature : ' Here is
the Body of the Lord ; make way for His servants ! ' And, in
truth, the wolves pressed back, and as the two walked coura-
geously forward, they followed slowly with lowered heads. It was
a strange procession ; the boy in advance with the bell, the
priest with the Body of the Lord, and behind them the wild
beasts of the forest, moving solemnly and noiselessly. So they
came to the dying man."

There is the subject for a great picture in that ! To our no-
tion, no Jew save a transformed one could have written either
this chapter or that called "Joadan," in which Theophil, after a
successful struggle with his love for a Jewish girl, finally yields
to her protest that she has never reviled the Messiah, and begins
to instruct her beneath a wayside crucifix.

" 'Why should I revile him?' said the Jewess. 'If He who
hangs here on the cross is the Redeemer of the world, then He
is my Redeemer as well.'

" * How can He save your soul if you do not acknowledge
Him?'

" * How can I acknowledge Him ? ' replied Joadan softly.
' Who has taught me ? Was I not born a Jewess according to
the will of God ? But it is not His will that you should hate
me. If your belief is the true one, then teach it to me ; show me
the way of salvation ; save my soul.' '

Nor does this chapter, with its touching summary of Tho-
phil's teaching and its account of Wolf Abeles' wrath when his
daughter tells him she means to be a Christian, stand alone.
The succeeding one, " At the Black Stone," narrates in powerful
and sympathetic strokes the baptism administered by her lover
to the dying girl, done to a cruel death by her Jewish kinsfolk
in punishment of her apostasy. It is curious that two recent
novels of East Galician life so strong as this one and Karl Emil
Franzos's Judith Trachtenberg should take up in such opposite
ways the vexed question of the intermarriage of Jews and Chris-
tians.

A book* very admirably fitted to attain its purpose its pur-

* How to Get On, By Rev. Bernard Feeney. New York : Benziger Bros.

77 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

pose being admirable likewise is the Rev. Bernard Feeney's vol-
ume entitled How to Get On. We are glad to see it already in
a third edition and hope it may multiply to many more. Its
idea is an eminently practical one, and so is the ideal it holds
up before our young people. The author believes, and not with-
out great reason, that "a life guided exclusively by spiritual or
supernatural motives looks appalling, if not unreal, to the gener-
ality of Catholics." But as it is this "generality" which it is
necessary to reach, because it is always on the rank and file of
an army that the heavy work comes,, and it, too, that scores the
grand majority of "killed, wounded, and missing," the question
suggested itself whether it would not be extremely useful to try
to " impress on them merely human motives for restraining their
passions for keeping temperate, pure, honest, truthful ? " On this
plan the chapters composing the work under consideration have
been written. It is not only the plan which is good, but the execu-
tion matches it marvellously well. Plain, lucid, attractive in style,
profoundly Christian though following that old plan which cer-
tain doctors of the church, and notably St. Augustine, illustrate
by quoting that " the elder shall serve the younger " ; that is, that
nature must precede grace, just as the Old Law came before the
New, making a solid foundation for it, the author has produced
a work whose initial merit is that it will not begin by repelling
the very classes it aims to attract.

A very good little hand-book* which, though not entirely
without faults, it would be well for every Catholic family to
have in the house, and which might also be used with advan-
tage in parochial and Sunday-schools as a valuable adjunct to the
catechism, is called The Correct Thing for Catholics. In their
different lines, this brief summary of what should be known and
done, and what omitted, by Catholics is as essential as the
multiplication-table to ordinary business. Chapter by chapter it
ought to be committed to memory by our children, and studied
too by most of their elders. The behavior of the younger por-
tion of our congregations at the Sunday Masses and evening de-
votions, as well as on the street, in the horse-cars, at home and
elsewhere, could hardly fail to be benefited by making this book
so far as we know it has no equivalent at present an obliga-
tory part of their school training ; and that because it does not
so much aim at giving more or less abstract information on vital

* The Correct Thing for Catholics, By Lelia Hardin Bugg. New York : Benziger
Brothers.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 771

points essential to decorum, decency, reverence, and devotion,
as at directing intelligent action.

Mr. Middleton's studies * have been carefully made and are
interesting reading. They are objective, as " studies " in this
line of course ought to be, but as they very often are not.
They comprise the " Not Unusual Girl," who falls in love with
a theological student, who does not return her love and perhaps
does not suspect it ; the " Literary Girl," whose quickening " dis-
appointment " and consequent success in fiction have also to do
with a flirtatious curate ; the " Shop Girl," who makes a success
at Macy's and elsewhere by respecting herself and attending to
her business, and finally marries well and happily ; the " Stage
Girl," who points a moral; the "Summer Girl"; the "Wayward
Girl," who also holds a beacon for the unwary ; and finally, the
pleasantest of them all, the " Marriageable Girl."

There is a good deal of sameness about Mr. Stephen Fiske's
Holiday Stories^ and yet they are all pleasantly told, and with
one exception, " The American Ghost," entirely free from any
matter that could with any fairness be called objectionable.
" Paddy from Cork," with its easy reference to old New York
Bohemians belonging to a generation pretty much below the sod
at present, reads like a transcript from real life.

I. A HISTORY OF THE POPES4

Those among our readers who are familiar with German litera-
ture will not require to be informed of the great success which
has attended the publication of Dr. Pastor's Lives of the Popes
in Germany, and they will rejoice that Father Antrobus has, by
the translation carried out under his supervision, put it within the
power of the English reader to study a work which throws new
light upon this subject. For through the liberal policy of Leo
XIII. the. secret archives of the Vatican have been thrown open
to scholars, and sources of information never before accessible
can now be freely drawn upon. Of this privilege Dr. Pastor has
availed himself. Moreover he has ransacked the libraries of
Italy, France, and Germany, and has not neglected the more or-

* A Study in Girls. By Edmund Smith Middleton. New York : G. W. Dillingham.

t Holiday Stories. By Stephen Fiske. Boston : Benj. R. Tucker.

\ The History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle Ages. From the German of Dr.
Ludwig Pastor, Professor of History in the University of Innsbruck. Vols. I., II. London :
John Hodges ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

772 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

dinary sources of information, as is shown by the list of books
more frequently quoted in the two volumes under notice and which
fills no less than thirty-five pages.

By means of an Introduction which treats of the literary
renaissance in Italy, and of the attitude of the church towards
it, and of a Retrospective View of the history of the popes from
the beginning of the exile at Avignon to the end of the Great
Schism, the author prefaces the main subject of his work the
popes of modern times. This period is made to begin with the
pontificate of Martin V. The portion of the work so far trans-
lated carries the history to the death of Calixtus III., in 1458.
Whether the remainder of the work is to be rendered accessible
to English readers depends upon the reception accorded to the
part now published. If we may judge from the notices which
have appeared in literary journals there is good reason to hope
that this result will be realized. Catholics, however, should not
be behindhand in contributing to the success of this enterprise.
It is deeply to be regretted that so many Catholic works of
world-wide reputation should be unknown and unread on account
of our apathy. and indifference.

It is impossible, of course, within the limits of a book notice
adequately to review the present work. We may, however, indi-
cate its special character by saying that the end rigidly held in
view by Dr. Pastor has been to lay before the world the abso-
lute historical truth without fear or favor, and to narrate the
sins, errors, and mistakes of popes in the same way as Holy
Scripture narrates the sins and faults of David and Jacob. In
so doing the author is but carrying out the instructions given by
Leo XIII. to the cardinals to whom he entrusted the publica-
tion of historical matters contained in the Vatican archives. It
is only to works written in this spirit that the world will pay
serious attention. To special pleaders and partisan writers it
gives no heed. That he is not one of these is the main cause
of the success of Dr. Pastor's book, and renders it of special
value.

2. AN ANCIENT VETERAN.*

This book, as the title shows, is not a mere monograph of
the archaeological glory of the metropolis of America ; it is also

* The New York Obelisk, Cleopatra's Needle. With a preliminary Sketch of the His-
tory, erection, uses, and signification of Obelisks. By Charles E. Moldenke, A.M., Ph.D.
New York : Anson D. F. Randolph & Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 773

a whole treatise on the obelisks, something like a very condensed
resume of the great work published about a century ago by the
famous Zoega. It is even more than that, for it contains in the
last chapter a kind of appendix ; some very valuable contribu-
tions on the geographical divisions and all the chief cities of
both lower and upper Egypt ; also a glossary of names and
terms occurring in this book and pertaining to Egyptological sub-
jects, including a good list of the Egyptian dynasties, and a short
outline of the chief chronological systems; and, finally, a glossary
of the numerous hieroglyphs contained in the work, together with
their pronunciation and determinative value. In a word, one can
take this book without knowing anything about Egypt, read it
with pleasure, without any difficulty, and feel a beginning of a
vocation for Egyptology before having turned the last leaf. We
must add that the text is interspersed with fine vignettes, photo-
types, and zincographs, which make the book more interesting
and enhance its scientific value.

Such a work, heartily welcome everywhere, will be received
with special favor by Americans, who will undoubtedly feel proud
that one of them has been able to pay such a noble tribute of
honor to the archaeological treasure they justly boast of. We all
enjoy a few moments of talk with an ancient veteran telling us of
the great old times before we were born. This is the case with
the Cleopatra's Needle. It will tell us many a tale of the past
when Thothmes III. erected it with pomp and festivities, when Ram-
ses II. engraved his name upon it, and the lawgiver Moses, the Is-
raelite, played and studied in sight of it ; how it escaped the fury
of the demoniac ravager Cambyses, was transported by the Ro-
mans to Alexandria, escaped Mohammedan fanaticism, and was
at last conveyed as a precious prize from its sunny home to our
fitful climate. Here it was that it grew old in spite of its Ameri-
can coat of paraffine, a poor protection indeed from bleak winds
and rains, and winter's ice and snow, for one who has to stand
day and night in the Central Park. " It has lived its longest
time on earth, and at the advanced age of thirty-four centuries
it must decline until it will totter and fall. Then, having so long
symbolized the Rising Sun in all its beauty, and having greeted
its glorious advent with every dawn and break of day, the Setting
Sun will shroud it for the last time in its light, but the new Sun
of Morning will seek its old friend in vain. It will fade away,
but its memory will last much longer than inscriptions on stone,
which must perish sooner or later." Let us therefore, children

774 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

of a new era, go to this noble veteran and learn from him the
greatness of his authors.

3. THE BALTIMORE CATECHISM EXPLAINED.*

It is not too much to say that this neat, attractive little vol-
ume is the best and most practical manual of catechetical in-
struction that we have in this country. It is based upon the
Catechism of the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore. As that
catechism is the standard one now in use in our schools, the
great usefulness of such a clear and satisfactory commentary
thereon, familiar in style and at the same time thoroughly scien-
tific in treatment, becomes at once apparent. Heretofore teach-
ers in our Sunday-schools have been obliged to seek material for
illustration and explanation of the Baltimore Catechism in other
manuals, like De Harbe's, the Catechumen, etc. works which,
while excellent in themselves, had little in common, in style or
arrangement, with the particular matter to be explained. Here
the questions and answers ipsissimis verbis in the Baltimore Cate-
chism are made the text, and the necessary commentary follows
at once in its proper order and place.

We know of nothing better than this little work for the use
of Sunday-school teachers, for class use in more advanced grades,
for private study by those who need to " brush up " their relig-
ous knowledge a little, and for the preparatory instruction of
converts.

Father Kinkead has performed his task admirably. We are
sure that his book will be gratefully appreciated by all those
engaged in the work of preaching or teaching our holy faith in
this land.

4. A BOOK OF PIETY.f

Any book that suggests to a confessor words of advice and
consolation for a penitent in trials, under difficulties, and in
affliction must have its value. And so the little book before
us has its value. To the general reader it may suggest the very
same thought that a confessor would place before him. The
translator in the preface says : " Upon the assumption that its

* An Explanation of the Baltimore Catechism of Christian Doctrine. By Rev. Thomas
L. Kinkead. New York, Cincinnati, and Chicago : Benziger Bros.

t The Will of God in Trials, Difficulties, and Afflictions. By J. Hillegeer, S. J. Trans-
lated from the German. Baltimore : John Murphy & Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 775

readers are Christians, it will be noted especially that the author
constantly makes his appeal to reason based upon funda-
mental Christian truths, rather than to sentiment. He .there-
fore finds comfort for tried souls in the reasonable act as de-
duced from the truths of revelation. This treatment rules
out religious sentimentalism and presents Christian intelli-
gence ; it avoids religious effeminacy and exhibits intelligent re-
ligious courage. In other words, in this brief volume, the Soldier
of the Cross is held up for imitation," But it is a difficult thing
always to act as a soldier ; it is a rare thing always to be brave
in the warfare of Christian life. Most of us need sentiment, if
you so please to term it, need consolation and encouragement.
There is a chapter at page 115 entitled "Comfort for the
Poor." We turned to it hoping to find some new words of
consolation for those whose bitter trial is poverty. The poor
need indeed be soldiers to find any consolation there. But the
book has other and good things in it.

5. LIGHT IN DARKNESS.*

This book is a guide to assist young people in deciding their
vocation to a religious life, if they have been so favored by
Heaven. The great saints, St. Thomas and St. Alphonsus Li-
guori, whose counsels are given on the subject, are sure guides.
They address pastors of souls, parents whose children desire to
become religious, and, chiefly, those whom it concerns to become
religious.

The book appeals directly to the hearts of those whose want
of generosity, or lack of faith, may be the cause of their
opposition in an affair of such grave importance to souls, and
can be recommended as such by those in charge of youth.

* Guiding Star. Philadelphia : H. L. Kilner & Co.

776 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ALL COMMUNICATIONS RELATING TO READING CIRCLES, LISTS OF BOOKS,
ETC., SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, NO.
415 WEST FIFTY-NINTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY.

THE Convention of the Apostolate of the Press held at
Columbus Hall, New York City, January 6 and 7, brought to-
gether from places widely separated many Catholic authors and
patrons of Catholic literature. Whatever good desires for the
apostolic work of the press they may have had before the Con-
vention, were intensified by what they heard and saw on that
occasion. To all who attended the meetings it was evident that
the topics under consideration were intelligently discussed by
men and women who represent the best thoughts concerning the
work waiting to be done by the Apostolate of the Catholic laity
through the medium of the press.

Catholic Reading Circles were well represented at the Con-
vention. Miss Josephine Lewis read the following paper, showing
the scope of the work undertaken for the diffusion of good
literature by the Columbian Reading Union :

" In the pages of THE CATHOLIC WORLD an extensive series of
letters have been published, beginning December, 1888, suggest-
ing ways and means of diffusing Catholic literature, and bringing
into prominence the works of Catholic writers, with a view to
securing a larger representation of their books on the shelves of
public libraries. So great was the demand for information on
these topics that it was found advisable to establish, under the
supervision of the Paulist Fathers, the Columbian Reading Union
as a central organization in New York City to co-operate with
those in charge of parochial and public libraries, and the mana-
gers of Reading Circles. All societies of this kind derive mutual
benefit by the interchange of opinion and suggestion, encour-
aged and made profitable through the influence of a central
body.

"The advantages of such an organization are becoming more
and more evident to those who have given any thought to the
study of the Catholic book trade. Much judgment is required
in preparing suitable lists of books for different readers. The

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 777

young ladies who have been graduated from convent schools and
academies or other institutions need books specially adapted to
their plans for self-improvement. * That large and intelligent class
working in stores, factories, and in domestic service, enjoying
less leisure, have a claim which should also be cheerfully recog-
nized. In preparing lists for the latter due allowance must be
made for their range of thought and limited opportunities for
reading.

" With regard to young men, there are peculiar dangers aris-
ing from daily contact with the great tide of indifferentism and
unbelief to which they are exposed. Valuable aid can be ren-
dered tb them by judicious guidance in the selection of books
that deal with subjects in which they are or ought to be most
interested.

"There is likewise a vast domain of juvenile literature to be
classified to meet the constant demands of educational institu-
tions and of parents who rightly exercise a vigilant supervision
over the reading matter supplied to their children.

" It is evident at a glance that individual effort is not ade-
quate to meet all these wants. To arrange guide-lists for the
various classes of readers, some fully and others only partially
educated, male and female, the leisured and the working classes,
is a task of great magnitude. Responsible persons, such as pro-
fessional teachers of literature, directors of libraries, qualified
ladies and gentlemen, can do inestimable good to thousands of
readers by employing their special acquirements in this direction.
Lists of books arranged in this way and offered gratuitously can
be endorsed and sent to all parts of the United States and
Canada. So far as funds permit, these book-lists will be sent to
educational institutions. By making special terms with publish-
ers the Columbian Reading Union can become a useful auxiliary
to the Catholic reading public. The facilities which it can ob-
tain will save time, trouble, and expense in the purchase of
books, facilities urgently needed by those who live in the small
towns and the rural districts, and never have a chance to see
the large book-stores.

"The documents already printed and circulated by the Col-
umbian Reading Union are :

"(i) List of Historical Novels, prepared by the New York
Cathedral Library Reading Circle, which contains forty standard
works by Catholic authors;

" (2) List of Stories for Young Readers, prepared by the
Ozanam Reading Circle, organized in St. Paul's parish, New
York City. This list contains fifty of the best books for the
young printed by Catholic publishers;

"(3) List of Books Relating to the Catholic Church in the
United States, prepared by the Alumnae Association of the
Holy Angels Academy, Buffalo, N. Y. In this list thirty-nine
of the most reliable works are mentioned ;

" (4) The writings of Brother Azarias, with a reference list and

778 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb.,

critical notices of his essays and papers published in various
magazines during the past twenty years ;

" (5) The writings of Miss Eliza Allen Starr, with press opin-
ions, showing the high estimate formed by competent critics of
her life-long studies in Christian Art ;

'* (6) List of Historical Books on the Famous Women of the
French Court, by a Catholic author, M. Imbert de Saint-Amand,
who has won distinction on both sides of the Atlantic by por-
traying the chief actors of a most memorable epoch of modern
history. The publishers of these books are Messrs. Charles Scrib-
ner's Sons;

" (7) A List of Books for the Young, selected from the cata-
logue of Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons. In this list the Catho-
lic authors are given a prominent place, and Jules Verne, the
prince of story-tellers, is the first on the list. By special ar-
rangement with the Scribners a liberal discount of twenty per
cent, on single volumes,, and a larger discount on the complete
works of different authors, has been secured for every one using
the order blank supplied by the Columbian Reading Union.

" This brief synopsis of the work performed by the Colum-
bian Reading Union will be acceptable to its members and well-
wishers. The members have each sent one dollar to give sub-
stantial encouragement to the movement. Without the financial
aid thus obtained the circulars and book-lists gratuitously pre-
pared for the use of the members could not have been printed
and circulated. Thus far every request for documents has been
answered, even when the request was written on a postal, card.
About five-sixths of the total number of letters received by
the Columbian Reading Union have contained ten cents in pos-
tage, which is less than the actual cost of the book-lists and
circulars.

"The Columbian Reading Union's documents are in general
demand, and contain information not hitherto supplied from any
other source. In estimating the extent of the work already ac-
complished, it is necessary to add that one member of the
Union in New York agreed to pay the expense of sending the
book-lists gratis to the archbishops and bishops ; and a member
residing in the city of Milwaukee willingly undertook the labor
and expense of forwarding the book-lists to all the Catholic
colleges, academies, and select schools of the United States and
Canada. Specific mention cannot be made of all who have given
valuable time and experience to the formation of Reading Cir-
cles, and the distribution of the book-lists among public libra-
ries. Certainly, it is encouraging to authors and publishers to
get positive assurance that, in answer to the appeal of the Col-
umbian Reading Union, a large number of representative Catho-
lics have volunteered to do service in various ways without the
inducements of financial rewards for the diffusion of good
literature.

"Before the end of the year 1892 it is hoped that sufficient

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 779

funds will have been secured to pay the expense of printing a
complete list of Catholic authors published in the English lan-
guage ; much of the data for this important list has been al-
ready collected by skilful hands. It now remains to be seen
whether the patrons and members, whose generosity has thus far
supplied the ' sinews of war,' will exert their efforts to provide the
fund necessary for this new enterprise. Every library and every
Reading Circle in the land will be glad to have a reliable list,
such as the one now preparing, which will definitely show forth
the influence Catholic thought has exerted on modern litera-
ture."

Though much remains to be done in organizing the Catholic
reading public, a definite beginning has been made in accord-
ance with the practical suggestions of Mr. John A. Mooney in
the following able letter :

" The plan of the Columbian Reading Union evidences a
full, thoughtful knowledge of Catholic needs pressing needs. If
properly organized and carefully conducted, the Reading Circles
must have a wide influence for good, not on young ladies only,
but also on men, young and old, many of whom know very lit-
tle of the writers of their own religion, or the place of excel-
lence these writers have attained. Instead of gratifying or nour-
ishing ourselves at our own well-filled tables, we contentedly feed
on the husks of the prodigal and call our sad meal a feast.

"The idea of the guide-lists promises to benefit publishers as
well as readers. Here it is, especially, that every one can see
the care with which your admirable plan, has been thought out.
Why should not the publisher be helped as well as the reader ?
As it is, putting aside the ascetic work, the publisher lacks any
safe means of gauging his public. We have no way of tele-
phoning him what we are ready for. The guide-list will serve as
a publisher's thermometer as well as a reader's barometer. The
readers will know when to come in out of the rain, and our pub-
lishers will be able to tell the exact temperature on an abnor-
mally cold day and the point above zero at which we really be-
gin to warm up. We shall have better books with the guide-
lists better in the quality of intellectual material, better in the
way of book-making, however good that may be now, and
cheaper.

" I see the Reading Circles creating readers and writers and
encouraging and aiding our publishers. As it is, the American
Catholic literary man has no field other than Potter's Field.
The writer cannot work, let alone live, without a public. At
present the Catholic writer is forced to become a colorless, life-
less litterateur, or else to follow false gods, become un-Catholic,
wallow in the muck of realistic popularity. The evil is greater
than we think a positive evil, and one worth expense and sacri-
VOL. LIV. 50

780 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb.,

fice and zealous work to remedy. Every thinking Catholic will
hail your movement as the first one to give the Catholic writer
hope of having a little home in a promised land where he may
securely tend the vine and olive and uproot the noxious weed.

" Not only will the Reading Circles and the guide-lists help
Catholics, but they will serve our American society at large.
The public library will learn to know us better than it does.
We shall be recognized not simply as readers, but also as the
owners and makers of a good, honest, healthy literature a liter-
ature characterized by a just sense of art and by a high claim,
clean as well as modern, and covering every branch of literary
composition.

" And our schools, convents, colleges will not the guide-lists
serve them also ? In the school the groundwork of a sound ap-
preciation of 'the value of good reading should be laid. To instil
the sense of reading as a duty, and to make it a pleasurable
habit, is one of the most important requirements of the most
primary education. The guide-list should be, and doubtless will
be, a valued school-teacher's guide.

" There are ten millions of us, they say. Were there only a
single million we should show more real intellectual life than we
do. Is there any one who will dare say that we have not the
material of a reading public ? With our colleges scattered all
over the land, it would be a shame if we had not the material
for writers competent and justly ambitious to contend with the
vicious talents that so powerfully master the thought of our
day."

Mr. Warren E. Mosher, editor of the Reading Circle Review,
published at Youngstown, Ohio, was present at the Convention
of the Apostolate of the Press, and explained the aims and
methods of the Catholic Educational Union. It is especially de-
signed to meet the requirements of those who have had limited
educational advantages, and are desirous of self-improvement :

" The plan consists of carefully prepared reading courses and
wisely selected books. The studies include history, literature,
science, and art. The lessons in these studies are marked in ad-
vance for each week and the amount of reading in each study
clearly defined. The required reading can be done in one-half
hour daily. The members procure the books recommended and
read the lessons at home. If there are several persons in a par-
ish reading the course, they may meet for mutual help and en-
couragement, and thus form a local Reading Circle.

"A full course requires four years' study. But one may join
for one year only, and may read all or any part of the course.
If a member desires to obtain a diploma, he may do so by read-
ing the full course for four years and answering eighty per cent.

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 781

of the questions sent him. These questions are a review of the
studies, and can be found in the books which he has read. The
term for each year begins October I and ends July i. Special
courses will be prepared for those who complete the regular four
years' course, so that they may continue indefinitely reviewing
old stuJdies and reading new ones.

" Among the studies are the following : Ancient and Roman
History ; History of the Middle Ages ; English and American
History ; Church History ; Bible Studies ; English translations of
Greek and Latin Literature, and English and American Litera-
ture ; Christian Doctrine ; Geology, Astronomy, Electricity, Physi-
cal Geography, Physics, Chemistry, Hygienic Physiology, Civil
Government, American Institutions, etc.

" A person may join at any time by sending name and address
and a fee of twenty-five cents. Circles of ten or more, ten cents
each.

"The primary object is to encourage home reading, and indi-
viduals may become members without joining a circle. Yet the
Reading Circle is the principal means of carrying out the plan.
The members meet weekly to discuss the reading they have done
at home and to have an interchange of ideas. Literary exercises
are prepared, consisting of essays and talks supplementary to
studies, and musical exercises interspersed to make the meetings
pleasant and sociable.

" Every Reading Circle is a school in which are educated ac-
tive and efficient workers for the responsible duty of assisting
pastors in teaching the young intellects of our land sound prin-
ciples and virtuous practices. By the members having a com-
mon interest in the work, and working in concert, there is an
incentive for individual effort. Each member is urged by a sense
of duty, and feeling assured of sympathy, does his part will-
ingly. He is also made to feel that he is not conspicuous or
alone in the work. The active, strong minds act as a stimulant
in arousing the slow or indifferent members to action, the timid
and diffident grow self-reliant and confident, and in time this
spirit pervades the whole society.

" Many have the erroneous idea that by identifying them-
selves with Reading Circles it presupposes ignorance on their
part. This is a mistake. Many educated Catholics have entered
into the spirit of the plan with the warmest zeal, and have or-
ganized circles in which are professional men, business men, teach-
ers, mechanics, and persons from every walk in life. Those who
have been so fortunate as to have received opportunities of ad-
vanced education, sound training, and good social influences could
not do a more commendable act than to ally themselves with
Reading Circles and aid in lifting up those less fortunate than
themselves. Good example, fellowship, discussion, and inter-
change of ideas constitute the educational advantages of Reading
Circles.

"The Catholic Educational Union does not conflict with

782 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb.,

other associations. On the contrary, it can be made a useful
adjunct to them. If they would adopt this plan, new life would
be infused into literary societies which now exist in name, and
a vigor imparted which would stimulate members to renewed
effort. Besides, they have the advantages of libraries, pleasant
meeting places, and other necessary conveniences.

" Where there are several circles in a community following
this plan they could carry out in a measure the university ex-
tension system by having men of local or national prominence
as educators deliver special lectures on the course to the several
circles assembled together.

"All the books of the course may be ordered from the
Union at Youngstown, Ohio, or from the publishers. Informa-
tion on organizing and conducting Reading Circles may be had
by applying to the union with stamps enclosed to pay for circu-
lars and reply."

The President of the Ozanam Reading Circle, Miss ]VL F.
McAleer, read a paper before the Convention entitled " The
First Catholic Reading Circle in New York City." Selections
from it are here given.

" In response to an appeal issued by Rev. Thomas McMillan,
the Ozanam Reading Circle was organized in October, 1886. It
takes rank as the first Catholic Reading Circle formed in New
York City. The members have endeavored to do an apostolic
work in behalf of good reading, besides securing their own self-
improvement in matters of literary value. The circle is com-
posed of Catholic women residing in different sections of New
York City, who meet together once a week in an informal and
friendly way to talk about books Catholic books especially to
take part in carefully selected literary exercises, readings from
the best authors, recitations and essays. Every Monday evening
the members assemble at the Parochial Library, Columbus
Avenue near Sixtieth Street. This library offers exceptional
facilities for getting the choicest specimens of modern literature
and a liberal supply of the latest stories. It contains all books
approved by the Columbian Reading Union. By the selection of
well-chosen books in the library, and by special talks on many
important topics, the Paulist Fathers have generously aided the
work proposed by the members of the Reading Circle.

"A gifted writer has told us that Matthew Arnold, in one of
his essays on the ' Strength of Catholicism,' says :

" If he were a Catholic living in England he would suffer

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 783

much, but he would find also much to comfort him. Among
the consolations he would give himself would be a frequent visit
to the reading-room of the British Museum, and there he would
linger in loving contemplation of the vast section, stretching on
and up from the * Hell of the yellow law-books to the Heaven
of the Acta Sanctorum ' devoted to the Abbe Migne's collection,
which contains all that concerns the Catholic Church from every
point of view, dogma, discipline, art, literature, science, etc. He
says : ' In this same room you may also find all the theological
works of the various forms of Protestantism ; but what a poor
show they make beside this array of condensed Catholicism.'
We surely do not need assurances from Matthew Arnold or from
any other outsider of our superabundant wealth. And yet I do
fear that too many even of our educated Catholics are not fully
informed in this matter. Do we really need to be told how
rich and varied is the store from which we can adorn and arm
and feed ourselves ? Whether we really need this information
or not we will not discuss, .but let us feel sure we are engaged
in a good work in proclaiming our treasures. But this cannot
be the sole motive of our combined efforts. Is it not rather to
awaken in our hearts an enthusiasm for carrying the light to
those who, thanks to much of the popular literature, are grow-
ing to believe that enthusiasm is a folly, that there is nothing
worth striving for?

" Do we not wish to counteract the pernicious effect of the
flippant reading of the day by working ourselves up to a relish
for studious reading? And is not the means we have been ad-
vised to take something like a beginning of that after-course of
studies so many have been longing for? The students in col-
leges, convents, and common schools can only go so far. How
far? Indeed, only to the borders of the great wonderland of
study. And must education be deemed ended when the medals
have been pinned on amidst the flourish of pianos, violins,
harps, etc.? Bishop Spalding said something boldly true at one
of the commencements ; something to the effect that there was
a tendency to rest satisfied with the medal and diploma that
we too easily believed all-sufficient these outward signs of inward
progress. It would be well to heed such warnings. But how
are we going to solve the problem of a continued and studious
life with the demands of our social and domestic environments ?
A great many seem to think the problem unsolvable and give it
up, and are heard of no more among the light-bearers ; they drop
out of the ranks, or rather, they drop into the great nameless,
aimless multitude. The Catholic Reading Circles can help us to
reach a satisfactory indication of the ways and means of doing
one's duty to home and to other claimants, yet leaving us time
enough to strive for personal perfection in every sense of the
word ? The literature produced by the divinely-lighted minds of
our great Catholic writers will assist immensely towards this
perfection of mind and heart and soul."

784 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb.,

One of the most active workers for the success of the Oza-
nam Reading Circle, Mr. Alfred Young, was unavoidably absent.
With rare good taste and judgment he has recommended vari-
ous practical plans for the members to follow. In a letter,
written by request for this Convention, he says that his advice
was intended for teachers, art students, typewriters, telegraphers,
and the like. Many of them work over-time, and have little
leisure :

" It would be adding one more humbug to the world's too
plentiful stock to devise an elaborate scheme of reading for
such busy people. Last year we only required one book to be
read by all the members, and this was pretty generally and
thoroughly done. The book was Cardinal Gibbons's Our
Christian Heritage. The meetings are held every Monday eve-
ning. Every member is supposed to come fortified with a
newly-acquired quotation from some prominent author, and the
recitation of these quotations forms the opening exercise. Then
we have a prose reading from a Catholic author or from some
non-Catholic source, but upon a theme interesting to Catholics.
This is followed by a 'poetical reading,' meaning an extract
from some good poem, the importance of selecting real poetry
and not mere jingle being urged upon the circle. This is fol-
lowed by another prose reading, which we call ' A Study in
Literature,' meaning thereby to illustrate by the extract read
the value and beauty of style in the literary artist.

" A recitation then comes next upon the programme. We
don't care for ' The Polish Boy,' and ' Searching among the
Slain' at our pleasant gatherings is distinctly discouraged.
Then we take a little relaxation in the shape of a reading from
some popular (high-grade) novel, or from a book of sketches.
For instance, one of the members read for us not long ago that
delightful sketch of Miss Wilkins's, 'The Revolt of Mother.'
Once in a while we have an original story or essay. The
evening is closed by an informal talk from the presiding officer
of the meeting. The talk is part comment, part suggestion,
and part criticism. Just so much stress is laid upon elocution
as may insure the adequate expression, in an entirely natural
and unaffected way, of whatever is read or recited. The idea is
that it is worth while for everybody to be able to read and to
speak in a graceful manner with a well-trained voice. Much is
made of the good old-fashioned practice of reading aloud. We
think that even one night a week with Newman and Ruskin

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 785

may do something to counteract our daily dose of flippancy and
cynicism in the morning newspaper.

" These proceedings of the members of the Ozanam Reading
Circle do not make a very pretentious narration, but in the com-
parison of experiences at the Convention they may prove of
interest. Recent articles in THE CATHOLIC WORLD were dis-
cussed by our Circle, and just too in the line of Father Elliott's
noble scheme. Now, our members have agreed that whenever
they find themselves guests in a Catholic household they will,
on the first fitting opportunity, ascertain whether THE CATHO-
LIC WORLD and other standard works by Catholic authors are
subscribed for by their hosts, and, if not, in a kindly, mission-
ary sort of way, they will urge a subscription to these publica-
tions. If this is carried out, as I hope it will be, it ought to
entitle the Ozanam Reading Circle to be admittted into the
Apostolate of the Press."

* # #

The members of Catholic Reading Circles will find many
practical topics suggested for their consideration in all the
papers prepared for the Convention of the Apostolate of the
Press. They are to be published in pamphlet form at a cost of
twenty-five cents for each copy. Each Reading Circle could
make use of at least four copies. Orders may be sent at once
to the Columbus Press, [1 20-1 22 West Sixtieth Street, New
York City. M. C. M.

786 WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Feb.,

WITH THE PUBLISHER.

THE Publisher desires to offer an apology to the readers of
THE CATHOLIC WORLD for the lateness of this issue. The
apology will, he knows, be accepted graciously when his readers
learn that the delay was caused in their interest. The death of
the late venerable Henry Edward Cardinal Manning occurred
after our first form had been set up, and to make this a Man-
ning Number, and give to his readers the two timely articles on
his Eminence, necessitated the setting aside of the prepared form
and starting out anew. Still he feels certain that the delay will
be fully compensated for by the admirable and timely articles of
Orby Shipley and John G. Kenyon.

The Publisher fancies that what is of interest to him in this
department will also be of interest to his readers. And so he is
pleased to announce to them that the Life of Father Hectier,
which they have enjoyed with him for so many months in the
pages of this magazine, and which has been issued in book form
by the Columbus Press, has met with most encouraging criticism
and a very creditable sale. The Boston Herald, whose notices of
THE CATHOLIC WORLD are always appreciated, has this to say
of the Life : " It is a perilous thing to publish a biography
seriatim, but Father Elliott has made such a good story out ol
Father Hecker's life that the interest was sustained from montl
to month and even grew steadily until the end had been reache<
The last part of his life was spent in gloom on account of th<
breaking, down of his bodily health, but his faith in God w<
unabated amid all his bodily trials. Excepting Dr. Brownson, h<
was the greatest man that has entered the Roman Church froi
the Protestant ranks in this country. Father Elliott has made
model biography of his friend and master and teacher. There
no excess or defect in his statements."

The following is the opening paragraph from an extende(
notice of the Life in The National Press, of Dublin :

7892.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 787

" Biography is a fashion of the day. But an admirably-con-
ceived volume of the life of Father Hecker, by the Rev. Walter
Elliott, just published at New York, has unusual claims upon
the world's attention, and will not pass away when the season
ends. It describes, chiefly from his own letters, journals, and re-
corded conversations, a man of rare temperament, whose life was
no less romantic than his views were bold and original. Isaac
Hecker may be summed up in a sentence he was an American
Cardinal Newman. And so the Cardinal thought himself, for,
writing on the occasion of Father Hecker's death, he says : { I
have ever felt that there was this sort of unity in our lives that
we had both begun a work of the same kind, he in America,
and I in England, and I know how zealous he was in promoting
it.' "

The Convention of the Apostolate of the Press was a matter
of deep interest to all Catholics, to all publishers, and especially to
the Publisher of THE CATHOLIC WORLD. It was a remarkable
gathering of some of the brightest and ablest Catholic literary
men and women ever brought together in convention in Ameri-
ca. There were no election of officers, no resolutions, no full-
dress reception, no farewell banquet, no opportunities for per-
sonal display usually the bait held out at most conventions.
Yet it brought together men and women from great distances,
at great personal sacrifices, who were all filled with the idea :
how to devise ways and means whereby the press might be
used most effectively in the promotion of the truth and the
spread of the knowledge of God among all his creatures. It
was a convention unique in the history of conventions, both in
its purpose and in the methods of effectuating it. It would have
rejoiced the heart of Father Hecker to have stood at that con-
vention and witnessed with his bodily eyes the realization, in
part at least, of what his prophetic vision had led him to hope
for twenty-five years ago.

The Publisher cannot here even mention the names of the
speakers or discriminate on the relative value of the papers
read ; that will be the work of those in charge of this con-
vention. But it was most gratifying to witness the earnestness,
and zeal, and spirit of Catholic faith that prevailed throughout the
whole proceedings. A full Report of the Convention of the
Apostolate of the Press is in preparation and should be ready
now, but it is unavoidably delayed for a few weeks, owing to

788 WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Feb.,

the fact that some of the manuscripts are being revised, and
that the Editor is overworked.

The mail for the past month brought many encouraging let-
ters to the Publisher. The letters which lie before him, from one
of which he makes an extract, speak for themselves :

" Enclosed find money order for eight dollars, half of which is
for my own subscription to THE CATHOLIC WORLD, the other
half to be used in sending the magazine to where it may do the
most good. Keep the ball rolling!"

The Columbus Number seems to have given general satisfa'c-
tion. The following, from the Methodist Protestant, is refreshing :
" The Columbus Number of THE CATHOLIC WORLD for January
is the pink of neatness in typography and finish, while the con-
tents puts it ahead of its usual excellence. . . . Protestants
should read THE CATHOLIC WORLD and so keep posted."

The readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, who are indeed the
cream of American Catholic readers, if they are in earnest and
have at heart the spread of Catholic truth, should do their best
to see to it that not only Catholics but also those outside the
Church should be " posted." They have got the truth ; they
know it, they realize it ; why should they wrap it up in a nap-
kin ? Spread the light !

The Catholic Publication Society Co. has in press the follow-
ing works of Pere Grou, edited by Rev. Samuel H. Frisbee, S.J.,
Woodstock, Md. :

Morality, extracted from the Confessions of St. Austin, 2
vols. ; Character of True Devotion, I vol. ; The Science of
the Crucifix, I vol. ; Spiritual Maxims Explained, I vol. ;
Christian Sanctified by the Lord's Prayer, I vol. ; School of
Christ, I vol. ; Manual for Interior Souls, 2 vols. ; and
some minor works.

Also in press:

The Imitation of Christ. By Thomas of Kempen, with re-

flections and prayers by Pere Gonnelieu, of the Society

1892.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 789,

of Jesus. To which is prefixed a biographical sketch of
the author by Charles Butler, Esquire. Done into English
by the Right Rev. Edward Challoner, D.D. A new and
revised edition, edited by Rev. Samuel H. Frisbee, S.J.

Ready about the end 'of February:

Aquinas Ethicus ; or, The Moral Teaching of St. Thomas.

Translated from the Summa by Rev. Joseph Rickaby, S.J.

2 vols.
The Spirit of St. Ignatius, Founder of the Society of Jesus.

Translated from the French of the Rev. Fr. Xavier de

Franciosi, of the same Society.

Benziger Bros, new publications are :

On Christian Art. By Edith Healy. With an introduction
by Right Rev. John L. Spalding, D.D., Bishop of Pe-
oria, 111.

An Explanation of the Baltimore Catechism of Christian
Doctrine. For the use of Sunday-school teachers and ad-
vanced classes. By Rev. Thomas L. Kinkead.

Tom Play fair ; or, Making a Start. By Rev. J. Finn, S.J.,
author of " Percy Wynn."

Birthday Souvenir ; or, Diary. With a subject of medita-
tion or a prayer for every day in the year. By Mrs. A.
E. Buchanan, author of "The Higher Life," "A Pocket-
book for School-girls," etc.

General Principles of the Religious Life. By Very Rev.
Boniface F. Verheyen, O.S.B.

The Correct Thing for Catholics. By Lelia Hardin Bugg.

They will publish shortly :

A Manual of Political Economy. By C. S. Devas, Esquire,
M.A., Examiner in Political Economy in the Royal Uni-
versity of Ireland.

Christian Anthropology. By Rev. John Thein.

Thirty-two Instructions for the Month of May and Feasts of
the Blessed Virgin. Translated from the French by Rev.
Thomas F. Ward.

790

BOOKS RECEIVED.

[Feb., 1892.]

BOOKS RECEIVED.

HOMILIES OF SCIENCE. By Dr. Paul Carus. Chicago : Open
Court Publishing Co.

THE CANON OF THE OLD TESTAMENT. By Tobias Mullen,
Bishop of Erie. New York : Fr. Pustet & Co.

COLUMBUS. By John A. Mooney. New York: The Catholic
Publication Society Co.

THE LITTLE OFFICE OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN AND THE OFFICE
OF THE DEAD. New York : The Catholic Publication So-
ciety Co.

THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By Thomas a Kempis. Philadel-
phia : H. L. Kilner & Co.

A SPIRITUAL RETREAT FOR RELIGIOUS PERSONS. Philadelphia :
H. L. Kilner & Co.

INDEX TO SCRIBNER'S MAGAZINE. Volumes I.-X. New York:
Charles Scribner's Sons ; London : Sampson Low, Marston
& Co.

PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.

PROGRESSIVE PROTESTANTISM. By Sixtus. New York: Web-
ster & Co.

MASS IN E MINOR. By Frank G. Dossert. London and New
York : Novello, Ewer & Co.

ECCE REGNUM ! By Edward Randall Knowles. Worcester :
Messenger Print.

THE WORKING-MAN'S POSITION. By M. F. Vallette. Brooklyn:
Nineteenth Century Catholic Club.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LIV. MARCH, 1892. No. 324.

REVELATIONS OF DIVINE LOVE

MADE TO A DEVOUT SERVANT OF OUR LORD NAMED MOTHER

JULIANA,

An anchorite of Norwich who lived in the days of King Edward III.
THE EIGHTH CHAPTER.

AND so long as I saw this sight of the plenteous bleeding
Streaming down from the thorne-crown'd Head of my wor-

shippful Jesu,

So long I might never stint of these words Benedicite Doirinus!
Six things I understood while this shewing was made to my

vision ;

Of which the first is the token of Jesu's most blessedful Passion
Shewn in the plenteous shedding of blood so precious and

rev'rent :
Next is that sweet holie Maiden who is His dear worthie

Mother ;

Then the all blessedful Godhead that was ever and shall be
All that is mightie ; all that is Love ; and all that is Wisdome.
That which is fourth is all that God in his Love hath created.
Wote I well that heaven and earth and all that hath being
Soothlie is large and fair and good in the sight of its Maker.
Why to my feeble beholding it sheweth so litle and worthlesse
Was that I saw it in the presence of Him who did make it.
Once that a soul be lifted to see the Maker of all things
Seemeth all that is made, to its sight, full litle and nothing.
Fifthly ; all that is made is for love ; and the same love it

keepeth ;
And as before said Love will keep it without end for ever.

79 2 REVELATIONS OF DIVINE LOVE. [Mar.,

Sixthly; I saw how God is in all that is good ; and the

goodnes

Anything hath in its being He is it all, and He onlie.
All this I saw with plentie of space and time to behold it :
And tho' the sight that is bodilie stinted,* leaving no vision,
Yet the sight that is ghostlie dwelleth in my understanding.
Full of these thoughts I abode with rev'rent dreed and enjoy-
ment,

Longing as much as I durst to see more if it were His pleasure.
Thereupon was my charitie stirred to mine own even Christian,
Wishing that what I saw and knew the same they might all

see,

That it might be unto them a ghostlie and blessedful comfort.
Then said I simplie unto my friends who were standing around

me
Thinking to die " This day is the last of my life, and my

domesday,"
For on the day of our death are we deemed as we shall be for

ever.
This said I, hoping to make them have mind how short is this

living :

As in my death before them they plainly might see in example,
Seeing the nought of all earthlie things they might love God

better.
For as I weened to have died, it was wounder and marvaile in

party,
Since methought that for them who should live this vision was

vouchsafed.

All that I say of me I mean for all my even Christian,
As I am learned of our Lord God that He meaneth it should

be.
Therefore I praie you all for God's sake, and for your own

profit,
Leaving the sight of a poor and simple wretch it was shewed

to,

Mightilie, wiselie, and meeklie beholding it all in God onlie,
Who of His- courtesie, love, and endles goodnes would shew it.
Sith for our comfort He sheweth it, it is His will that ye

take it
Joying and liking, as pleaseth the Lord Jesu Christ of His

mercie.

ALFRED YOUNG.

* Stinted : ceased.

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 793

CARDINAL MANNING.

THE cloud of mourning which has recently fallen upon the
Catholics of Great Britain, through the death of the venerable
head of the English hierarchy, has cast a shadow over the en-
tire Catholic world, and in an especial manner over the vast
English-speaking community which owes allegiance to Holy
Church. It was but yesterday, as it were, that the late Cardinal
was extending the hand of fellowship to his co-religionists on
this side of the Atlantic, in that touching voice-message to the
Cardinal-Archbishop of Baltimore that message which conveyed
once more from the Old World to the New the imperishable and
consoling truths of the ancient faith, through the medium of the
latest contrivance of modern invention. " The Catholic Church
in England," so the message ran, " sends its greeting to the
Catholic Church in America and to all the citizens of the Unit-
ed States, and hopes that we may always be of one heart and
one mind, and become one fold under one Shepherd." The
words are still fresh in our recollections ; the sweet tones in
which they were spoken are even now preserved, like the honey
in the hive, in the waxen receptacle of the phonograph ; but
the tongue that uttered them is mute the great spirit has him-
self been gathered into the one fold, in the heavenly meaning
of the term, to which he so expectantly pointed. That message
was the cardinal's prophetic farewell to the Catholic people of
America.

In the present moment of sorrow it is difficult to form a
just estimate of the influence which Cardinal Manning exercised
upon the age in which he lived ; but the difficulty does not
arise from any fear of exaggeration. His influence was of a
two-fold character. It was both direct and indirect ; it was
practical as well as spiritual ; and, while its practical side can be
measured by solid and tangible results, its unsubstantial element
renrrains a vast but still an unknown quantity. In considering
the life and work of the late cardinal-archbishop it is impossible
wholly to separate it from the life and work of his illustrious
colleague in the Sacred College, Cardinal Newman ; for, para-
doxical though it may appear, though their labors were, in a
measure, distinct, they were, nevertheless, absolutely inseparable.
While neither, standing alone, would be in any degree less
VOL. LIV. 51

794 CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

great, it is doubtful whether either of them could, by .himself,
have achieved a similar amount of success. Their combined
efforts were essential to the important work they were called
upon to accomplish. Acting by independent and collateral agen-
cies, they laid siege simultaneously to the two principal fortresses
of the enemy. Newman appealed primarily to men's minds ;
Manning sought in the first place to conquer their hearts. In
saying this we do not for a moment imply that they were not
both of them intensely human, as well as supremely intellectual ;
but, while Newman's chief weapons were reason and logic, the
great secret of Manning's influence and authority was to be
found in the breadth and the depth of his sympathies. It is
impossible* to say which of the two bore the more important
part in the spiritual campaign in which they were engaged, be-
cause, as we have said, the action of both was equally indispen-
sable. Newman was emphatically the sage, the seer, the thinker,
the scientific expert of the movement, before the force and lu-
cidity of whose logic the sophistries of his antagonists were
effectually dissipated. Manning, on the other hand, was the
statesman, the organizer, the diplomatist, and his lot was thus
cast in a less secluded and a far more active field. Newman,
by a process of deep and unwearied research, had to trace the
great truths of life from their source to their final destination
to draw up the chart, as it were, which might be safely followed
in the future convoy of souls. Manning, as the pilot of the
ship, had to guide it in safety past the shoals and rocks that
hemmed it round, and to bear the full brunt of the storm that
threatened its destruction. Newman's work was effected once
and for all, and he survived many years after the fulfilment of
his mission. Manning's labor, on the contrary, was incessant
and unrelaxing, nor did it wholly cease till death struck him
down, while still standing at the helm.

The career of the late cardinal was a singularly busy one,
and, when its record comes to be written, it will be found to
contain much that is deserving of study and imitation. Here,
however, it is only possible to give the merest outline. Born at
Totteridge, in the county of Hertfordshire, on July 15, i8o8,'Car-
dinal Manning spent a little more than half of his long life as a
member of the Established Church of England, to which he be-
longed by inheritance. He was the son of a prosperous member
of the British House of Commons, and early showed an inclina-
tion to follow in the footsteps of his father. After passing with
some distinction through Harrow School and Balliol College,
Oxford, he entered upon life with the intention of pursuing a

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 795

political career, for which he was in many ways well fitted.
With this purpose in view he was admitted to the English
colonial office at the age of twenty-three, and there devoted him-
self for a time to the study of constitutional law and politics,
his acquaintance with which subjects he afterwards, no doubt,
found of much utility. Within the short space of a year, how-
ever, his plans underwent a complete change, and following the
unerring dictates of his conscience, he decided' to abandon the
affairs of state for the care of souls. In this decision, it may
well be said that England lost a statesman of the highest type,
but she most assuredly gained what was of far more general
and permanent value ; she lost a politician possibly, but she
gained an apostle. Returning to Oxford, Manning was elected
a fellow of Merton, and was soon afterwards ordained a minis-
ter of the Anglican Church. From the outset of his ministry
his influence began to grow. His intellectual activity was always
intense. He took the lead in many of the ecclesiastical move-
ments of the day, notably in the educational campaign of 1838,
and, so highly were his abilities regarded, that, from being rec-
tor of Lavington and Graffham in Sussex, he was, at the early
age of thirty-two, appointed Archdeacon of Chichester, while two
years later, namely, in 1842, -he was made select preacher to the
University of Oxford. The stir caused by the Tractarian move-
ment was at this time at its height, and though Manning was
not himself one of the primary leaders of the crusade, he never-
theless exercised a very potent influence upon the minds of all
associated with it. When, in the year 1845, John Henry Newman
seceded and " went over to the enemy," Manning was looked to
by many as the mainstay of the English Establishment. As the
great influence of Newman had carried large numbers of earnest
Anglicans over with him to Rome, so the great example of
Archdeacon Manning exercised a" restraining influence, and kept
many equally earnest men for a time in the English Church.

But Manning had himself, by this time, begun to discern the
truth. The grace which had been bestowed so plentifully upon
so many of his contemporaries was already working within him,
and, as his spiritual vision became clearer, his convictions grew
in strength. The inducements to remain where he was were un-
doubtedly great, but happily his sense of duty was equal to the
strain. To secede would mean to ruthlessly sever all the ties
and associations of a lifetime, and to begin life again at the
very moment when the greatest prizes which the Church of Eng-
land could offer him were actually within his grasp. With many
men the question would have rested between resisting these

796 CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

powerful temptations, or resisting the voice of grace ; but with
Manning the question seems never to have been at stake. For
a time, it is true, like Newman and others before him, he strove
conscientiously to reconcile the irreconcilable ; to identify the
truth which his own reason, aided by the grace of God, had dis-
covered, with that semblance of truth which was taught by the
establishment to which he still belonged. The task, of course,
was a hopeless one, and the breath that was needed to bring
down the avalanche came, at length, from the very body which
it was destined to crush. The event which precipitated Arch-
deacon Manning's final renunciation of Anglicanism, and his con-
sequent submission to Rome, was the decision in the now fam-
ous Gorham case, whereby a certain Mr. Gorham, a clergyman
of the Church of England, was permitted to remain in his sacred
office notwithstanding the fact that he openly denied the doc-
trine of baptismal regeneration. The protest signed by thirteen
prominent members of the English Church proved of no avail ;
the decision was upheld, and shortly afterwards Archdeacon
Manning and five of the others who had put their names to the
manifesto, followed up their action to its only logical end they
joined the Catholic Church. The effect of the great churchman's
secession was remarkable, coming, as it did, in the midst of
that violent " no-popery " outburst in England which had been
occasioned by the re-establishment in that country of the Catho-
lic hierarchy. Manning's example, like that of Newman six
years earlier, was followed by an immense number of those who
had been content to look to him for guidance, and while the
already waning influence of the Anglican Church was once more
perceptibly shaken, the reawakening power of Catholicism in
England received what has proved to be a fresh and permanent
'impetus. The year 1851 was thus rendered doubly memorable
for the Catholics of Great Britain.

Writing, at a later period of his life, of his work while in the
Anglican communion, when, as he said, " I knew the revelation
of the day of Pentecost only in a broken and fragmentary way,"
and of the gradual growth of his religious convictions, Cardinal
Manning remarked :

" The works I then published, even without the private re-
cords I have by me, are enough to mark the progressive but
slow and never receding advance of my convictions, from the
first conception of a visible church, its succession and witness for
Christ, to the full perception and manifestation of its divine or-
ganization of head and members, of its supernatural prerogatives
of indefectible life, indissoluble unity, infallible discernment, and

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 797

enunciation of the faith. Of those books I will say nothing but
that even in their great imperfections they have a unity that is
of progress, and a directness of movement, always affirming posi-
tively and definitely such truths of the perfect revelation of God
as successively rose upon me. I -was as one manu tentans, meri-
die ccecutiens ; but a divine Guide, as yet unknown to me, always
led me on. I can well remember how at the outset of my life
as a pastor, as I then already believed, the necessity of a divine
commission forced itself upon me ; next, how the necessity of a
divine certainty for the message I had to deliver became, if pos-
sible, more evident. A divine, that is, an infallible message, by a
human messenger is still the truth of God ; but a human or fal-
lible message, by a messenger having a divine commission, would
be the source of error, illusion, and all evil. I then perceived
the principle of Christian tradition as an evidence of the truth,
and of the visible unity of the church as the guarantee of that
tradition. But it was many years before I perceived that such a
Christian tradition was no more than human, and therefore falli-
ble. I had reached the last point to which human history could
guide me towards the Church of God. There remained one
point more, to know that the church is not only a human wit-
ness in the order of history, but a divine witness in the order of
supernatural facts. . . I have never thought it necessary to pub-
lish the reasons of my submission to the Church of God. I felt
that those who knew me knew my reasons, for they had fol-
lowed my words and acts; and that they who did not know me
would not care to know. I felt, too, that the best expositor of
a man's conduct is his life ; and that in a few years, and in the
way of duty, I should naturally and unconsciously -make clear
and intelligible to all who care to know the motives of faith
which governed me in that time of public and private trials."

On Passion Sunday, 1851, the ex-archdeacon was able to write
to his old friend, Mr. T. W. Allies, who had himself become a
Catholic a few months previously : " This morning, by God's
mercy, I entered the One True Fold." With this happy consum-
mation of the dearest aspiration of his life, his mission on earth
had in reality but begun. Stepping at once from among the
highest ranks of one religious community to the lowest of an-
other, and yet in that very act ascending, Mr. Manning became
a neophyte in. the great department of thought in which he had
hitherto been looked up to as an authority. His period of pro-
bation, however, was but of brief duration, and the day was not
far distant when the new guest would be bidden to go up higher.
The time, indeed, was approaching, and with it the man.

Passing rapidly through the initial stages o/ the priesthood,
Father Manning was ordained in the summer of the self-same
year that had witnessed his reception into the church ; and dur-
ing the four years following, acting on the advice of Pius IX.,

798 CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

who was his personal friend, he went through a course of pro-
found studies at the Accademia Ecclesiastica at Rome. His re-
ligious training was by this time complete, the future cardinal
enjoying the double advantage of possessing, not only a rich
store of ecclesiastical learning, but a thorough and intimate
knowledge of the world and of men. Returning to England as
a doctor of divinity, he, in 1857, founded the Congregation of
the Oblates of St. Charles in London, and was in the same
year appointed provost of the Archdiocese of Westminster.
Thus at the very outset he took his place among the foremost
of the Catholic clergy, and, by the earnestness, the eloquence,
and the intellectual force of his writings and public discourses,
did an immense work in spreading a knowledge of the truth.
As an important organ of English non-Catholic opinion was
recently forced, honestly though reluctantly, to confess : " One of
the most formidable controversial writers of the century, a man
armed with a knowledge of every weak point in the Anglican
harness, had placed his splendid abilities at the disposal of the
church which was her principal foe." In spite, however, of his
well-known powers and his commanding eminence, his selection
as the successor of Cardinal Wiseman, the great founder of the
modern English hierarchy, came upon most men as a surprise.
That selection was due entirely to the wisdom and the prescience
of Pius IX, Dr. Manning's name was not one of the three sub-
mitted by the chapter of Westminster to the Pope; but the
Holy Father, knowing the man and knowing something, also, of
the work that was before him, exercised his sacred prerogative,
and in so doing gave yet another proof of his wonderful sagacity
and foresight. The new archbishop was consecrated in June,
1865, and just ten years later he was created a member of the
Sacred College.

Such, then, is a brief and hurried survey of the leading events
of the great cardinal's career, yet how little of the real truth
does it convey ! The several distinct and visible stages of his
advancement in grace and in dignity are but the punctuation
points, as it were, in a continuous and edifying narrative, the
greater part of which we are powerless to write. It is not in
the events of a few "isolated days, or in the record of a series of
dates, however memorable, that we are to find the true index
to the cardinal's career ; it is rather in the ordinary routine of
his daily existence, in the consistent and persistent prosecution
of a great and lofty end, and, above all, in the secret fidelity of
his inner life. To form any conception of the enormous work
which he carried on during the twenty-six years he was at the

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 799

head of the church in England, it is necessary to contrast the
state of things now with the state of things which existed there
more than a quarter of a century since. No doubt the improved
position of Catholicism in that country, and the gradual lessening
of the national animosities and prejudice, are due to a variety
of causes. Possibly, to some extent, the increased tolerance is
no more than the natural outcome of that failing interest in re-
ligious matters generally which is to be noted, alas ! on so many
sides ; but this, we are happy to believe, is only a partial ex-
planation. The real secret of the extended influence of the
church, and of the growing respect with which she is regarded
even by those outside of the fold, is to be found in the fact
that she is at the present moment better known than she has
been at any time since the Protestant usurpation, and that her
teaching is consequently better understood. The miserable cal-
umnies which found a ready currency in a darker age are sel-
dom heard of now, for they would no longer fall upon ignorant
and credulous ears. The people have become familiarized with
the church, and with her mode of work, and familiarity in this
instance has begot reverence rather than contempt. This, we
think, is the true secret of the change, and no one has, assuredly
contributed more than has Cardinal Manning towards spreading
this light of intelligence, and towards disarming the fears and
conciliating the sympathies of the English people.

So powerful, indeed, has been his influence that some recent
writers have seemed to forget, in the fervor of their tributes,
the credit that is due to his illustrious predecessor in the archi-
episcopal see. This is scarcely just, and no one, we are certain,
would have resented it more keenly than would Cardinal Man-
ning himself. Cardinal Wiseman was, in a sense, the creator of
a dynasty. He had to initiate and carry through a most diffi-
cult and delicate enterprise, and he had, moreover, to endure alone
all the odium and hostility which it temporarily excited. He had
to watch over the new hierarchy during the first unsettled, anx-
ious years of its existence, knowing, as he must have known,
that the good fruits of his labors would not prominently mani-
fest themselves until long after he had passed away. Such was
the important task to which he set his hand, and he per-
formed it from first to last with a consummate ability and with
an exemplary forbearance. It is by no means the least tribute that
we can pay to the memory of Cardinal Manning to say that he
proved himself to be a worthy successor to Nicholas Cardinal
Wiseman. The work of the one was to construct, the work of
the other was to carry on and to complete ; and it was clearly

8oo CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

something higher than any human foresight that selected the in-
struments for the performance of both these works.

It a curious and interesting circumstance, in connection with
the career of Cardinal Manning, that the leading feature, the
key-note of his success, is to be found, not only in what he did
but also in an especial way in the one great work which he
failed to accomplish. It would, no doubt, strike the mind of the
casual and uninitiated observer as a reproach against the English
hierarchy that, after forty years of existence, its principal diocese
should be without a cathedral. Yet it is this apparent reproach
which is, indirectly, the glory of Cardinal Manning's record.
There were some who expected, and there were many who hoped,
when he was first called to the archiepiscopal throne, that he
would devote a portion, at least, of his energy and his resources
to the erection of a majestic building, which might bear proud
witness, in the very centre of British civilization, to the strength
and stability of the Catholic Church. This enterprise was pressed
upon him at the first public gathering over which he presided in
his official capacity, but, though he unhesitatingly accepted the
task, he, at the same time, pointed out that there were other
works " more urgently pressing and more vital " which claimed
precedence. In the first place, there were the little children, who
were the heirs to the faith, but who were being robbed of their
inheritance, through no fault of their own, by reason of the ab-
sence of any adequate system for rescuing them from heretical
surroundings and providing for their spiritual education. Then,
in the second place, there was the paramount necessity of secur-
ing a more plentiful supply of priests, who might attend to the
needs of the numerous scattered districts of the diocese which
were at that time denied the ministrations of a pastor. To these
primary and essential matters the cardinal-archbishop at once
devoted his earnest and unwearying attention. It was the invisi-
ble and living Church of God that he had, in a great measure,
to build up and complete, and till that all-engrossing task was
fittingly accomplished he decided that the cathedral should wait.
Of what avail, indeed, would it have been to build upon the
shifting sand, to raise up the stately fabric of his cathedral while
the very foundations of the church herself were imperfect and
insecure. Upon the multiplication of priests, he clearly realized,
rested the welfare of the present ; while in the care and religious
training of the children he saw the one bright hope of the future.
He therefore sought, by these simple yet effectual means, to
strengthen and solidify the sacred rock of the faith, upon which
alone a church can hope to stand!

1892.] CARDINAL MANNING. 801

It is impossible here to convey even. the faintest idea of the
assiduous and incessant labor which he devoted to both of these
matters. The dearest wish of his life, as he himself declared,
was the formation of good and holy priests ; and, with this pur-
pose in mind, he established a seminary in his diocese which has
proved a veritable nursery of pastors ; he bore the cost of the train-
ing, both at home and abroad, of innumerable aspirants to the
sacred office ; and, above all, he wrote that text-book to the
" Eternal Priesthood " which will no doubt be the source of grace
to many generations of priests. In regard to education, the
struggle he waged was long and anxious, but he persevered in
it with a force and courage that conquered all obstacles, and he
left what we may hope will prove to be a lasting impression on the
educational system of his land. As a prominent non-Catholic
educationalist not long since remarked : " If England is to re-
main a Christian country, so far as. education is concerned, we
shall owe it largely to Cardinal Manning." When he first took the
work in hand he found that the numberless poor Catholic chil-
dren in the workhouses were compelled to attend non-Catholic
forms of worship, and to receive instruction in an heretical
.creed. He at once entered upon a crusade against this shame-
ful condition of things, and, by dint of an earnest agitation car-
ried on from year to year, he at last succeeded in effectually
removing this stain from the English Poor Law administration.
By reason of this movement he rescued fully twenty thousand
poor Catholic children from the dangers which threatened them,
while the improved system which he brought into being will save
countless others from being similarly threatened in the future.
JMor was this all that he did for education. As the foremost
champion of the voluntary schools, he has done more than any
other man to make known and to enforce the claims of those
admirable institutions, and the leading attitude which he assumed
as a member of the Royal Commission on Education has already
been productive of most beneficial results.

But education did not absorb all of his energies. He took a
conspicuous part in most of the great social movements of his
time, and he left his mark upon each. As a temperance advo-
cate and reformer he stood in the very front rank of those who
had devoted themselves wholly and solely to that one subject.
On the great labor question he showed such a firm and thorough
grasp of the situation that he was at once hailed as an authority,
and his influence was sought in adjusting the balance between
the divergent yet inseparable interests of employer and em-
ployed. With the housing of the. poor it was the same, and

802 CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

when the royal commission on that question was called into
existence, the first name mentioned after that of the president,
the Prince of Wales, was the name of the great English car-
dinal.

All this arduous and exacting work was, in a measure, outside
the range of his spiritual functions, yet how intimately was it as-
sociated with them ! As a pastor of the church he preached
unceasingly to his flock by the earnest eloquence of his written
and spoken word ; but as a public character he preached no less
eloquently to the world in general by the silent force of his ex-
ample. He presented, indeed, a strange and touching spectacle
in the mixed and complex world of modern London ; for, prince
of the Catholic Church though he was and to have been this,
not so very long since, would have at once drawn upon him the
ringer of scorn he was, nevertheless, the one conspicuous con-
necting link between all classes and sections of society. He was
the welcome and honored guest of princes and statesmen, yet he
was, above all things and beyond all things, the friend and ser;
vant of the poor. So closely, too, were his human sympathies
allied with his spiritual faith that, while it may be truly said of
him that no man held a more prominent and honorable position
in the eyes of men, so may it be added with equal truth that
no man lived more constantly in the presence of God. His per-
sistent asceticrsm, his utter absence of display, his beautiful and
childlike simplicity, did as much, perhaps, to endear him to the
hearts of the English people, irrespective of creed, as did any
of his other more intellectual and more brilliant attributes. That
the feeling with which he was regarded was deep and genuine
has been strikingly shown by the outburst of national sorrow
which followed him to his grave, when from all ranks from
the royal family to the dock-laborer and river-side men there
came but one sentiment, eloquent or inarticulate, and that was a
sentiment of earnest sorrow and regard.

But the grief which his death has caused has, of course,
fallen most heavily upon the members of his own flock, and
upon the Catholic world generally, and though that grief is, in
its essence, a selfish one, yet it is, after all, but natural and hu-
man. The death of a good man is always a loss to those who
knew him, whatever may be the actual gain to himself. Even
the festivals of the saints, which are days of rejoicing now, we
cannot but think were days of mourning once ; for the cloud
that bears a just spirit to heaven must, of necessity, cast some
shadow on the earth. HENRY CHARLES KENT.

Kensington, London, England.

1892.] THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. 803

-THE WOMEN OF CALVARY."

IT is an old and true saying that history repeats itself, and
it is equally true that at different periods certain diseases which
were thought dead, so long had they lain dormant, have reap-
peared without any apparent cause. Last year, Sir Morell
Mackenzie's article in the Nineteenth Century Review, on the
" Revival of Leprosy," proved by vital statistics the simultane-
ous reappearance of that loathsome malady in different parts of
the globe under totally different conditions.

Together with this very disagreeable and startling announce-
ment, it is painfully evident that another form of suffering is
increasing so steadily that science is completely baffled ; for it
is a lamentable fact that cancer, one of the worst scourges
known to humanity, is as unmanageable and irrepressible now as
in the days of Hippocrates ; and as in the middle ages every
large town had its lazar-house, so London, New York, and other
great modern cities have been forced to establish cancer hospitals.

Count Mattei, of Bologna, asserts that cancer can be cured
that he has cured it, and is curing it with his system of electro-
homoeopathy ; and Mr. Stead last autumn went to Bologna, and,
as the result of his visit, wrote the interesting article, " Can
Cancer be Cured?" which appeared in the January (1891)
number of the Review of Reviews. Mr. Stead was so convinced
of the efficacy of Count Mattel's theory and practice that on
his return to London he wrote to several of the leading physi-
cians and scientists, and proposed that the subject should be
thoroughly investigated by competent experts.

Meanwhile that medical men discuss and cannot decide which
system may kill or cure, one truth is incontestable that cancer
is frightfully prevalent, and that no class is exempt from it.
High and low, rich and poor, the prince in his palace, the
peasant in his hut, the woman of fashion, the nun in her cell
no one is exempt it attacks all with perfect impartiality.

Dr. Hubert Snow, of the Cancer Hospital in London, writing
to a correspondent, says : " Cancer is increasing. The doctors
cannot stem its advance. All that they can prescribe is to
cut, without even a promise that the knife will do more than
postpone for a little time a torturing death. Thirty thousand
die every year by cancer, and as the disease takes from two to

804 THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. [Mar.,

four years to torture, before it slays its victims, there must be
one hundred thousand persons upon whom cancer has laid the
mark of death."

Another authority states that ten years ago it was one in
six hundred, and that now it is one in three hundred that may
be counted as victims to the deadly enemy.

Mr. William T. Bull, Vice-President of the Cancer Hospital
in New York, when questioned, said : " I am not prepared to
furnish positive data; I will merely state that cancer is cer-
tainly not decreasing ; were a free cancer hospital to be opened
in New York to-morrow, it would instantly be filled. It is a
disease that attacks both men and women, oftenest women ;
and of women, most frequently mothers."

Most frequently mothers this last statement is fearful ; the
mother, the guiding star, the centre of the household, the most
frequently attacked ! When the mother is rich, surrounded by
all that luxury and wealth can lavish upon her, tended with the
most loving care, the blow is terrible ; but when the mother is
poor, probably the bread-winner of the family, the horror of the
situation is doubly increased. At first the trouble is slight, she
has no time to think of her condition, her daily work must be
done ; gradually the pain increases, she consults a physician ; he
tries a palliative, and then, where there it no improvement, he
recommends the hospital. And after a few months in a hospi-
tal, should she be pronounced incurable, she must leave.

Where will she go ? For a woman to spend six months in
a hospital, means too often the breaking up of that woman's
home. Very few men of the working class are capable of keep-
ing the family together after the centre of unity has disap-
peared. The husband becomes demoralized, discouraged, some-
times dissipated; the children drift away to institutions, or are
distributed among relatives ; so that when the incurable mother
is discharged from the hospital, where is she to go to die? It
may not be for a month or six months, or perhaps for years,
but she is incurable, incapable of working ; where will she drag
out the weary, dreary remnant of her tortured life ?

This thought inspired a woman fifty years ago to found an
association to care for such afflicted sufferers, and now the
modern Women of Calvary receive into their houses their poor
sisters who cannot obtain admittance into hospitals ; and their
w r ounds are dressed, their dying hours soothed, in honor of the
Passion and Death of the Divine Victim of Love, who died for
us on Calvary.

i 92.] THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. 805

The Calvary of the nineteenth century was the outcome of
a \voman's grief, and is the refuge of sorrows ; for to enter it
one must have suffered or suffer. Only widows may become
members of the association ; and the only patients received are
women suffering from cancer or other living, bleeding wounds,
equally incurable. It is fitting it should be so ; it is God who,
for the widow, has broken the ties which no man may put
asunder; and it is by his divine will that a loathsome disease
has made the poor woman an outcast from her family. Thus
they meet upon common ground, and the consoler and the con-
soled are united by the bond of suffering under the shadow of
the Cross.

Jeanne-Frangoise Chabot, the foundress, was born in Lyons,
on the 1 7th of June, 1811, of parents in the middle rank of
life, and received the ordinary education suited to her position.
After the preparatory school, she was sent to a convent of the
Visitation, where her brilliant talents and great vivacity made
her a leader in every movement. First in all the studies, she
was still more conspicuous during the recreation, when with her
charming gift of improvising verses, and singing them to appro-
priate music, she was the life of the joyous band. Unfortu-
nately, her high spirits sometimes carried her too far ; on one
occasion for some misdemeanor she was severely reprimanded,
and in a moment of anger she impulsively said : "I will set fire
to the convent " ; and for this threat she was expelled.

The next three years she passed at home under her excel-
lent mother's care, and at nineteen she married Monsieur Gar-
nier, a young merchant of Lyons, in comfortable circumstances
and with bright prospects. A happy wife, a happy mother,
loved and loving with the ardor of her passionate nature,
all was sunshine around her, and her cup of joy was filled to
overflowing. A few brief years of happiness, and the scene
changed. At twenty-three Madame Gamier had been twice a
mother, and was a widow and childless ; the second child dying
two days after the father.

The broken-hearted woman was completely prostrated ; her
grief was as intense as had been her love, and for days and
weeks she remained alone in her darkened home, kneeling for
hours with the crucifix upon which her dying husband had
breathed his last sigh pressed to her lips. She would allow
nothing to be changed in the rooms he had occupied ; the fur-
niture should remain as he had left it, the papers and letters
scattered on his desk, the book half opened that he had last

8o6 THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. [Mar.,

read ; nothing could be touched. Her only visit was to the
cemetery, to adorn with flowers the three beloved graves ; to
reach the cemetery it was necessary to cross a bridge over the
river, and she said afterwards that often she was forced to run
rapidly across, so violent was the temptation to throw herself
into the water and thus end her sorrows.

Gradually time, and above all her strong faith, brought
comparative calmness and resignation ; but even then her home
was hateful to her, the empty cradles, the vacant arm-chair by
the desolate hearth, made too evident the fearful void in her
existence ; so, to escape painful memories, she devoted herself to
parish work, and in assisting the wretched and unfortunate found
consolation and strength to bear her heavy trials. Her days
were spent in the slums and byways of her native city, her even-
ings in making clothes for the poor whom she had visited ; and
the priests, who soon recognized her zeal and ability, confided
the most hopeless cases to her care.

The horizon of her spiritual life was widening, her own per-
sonal grief was merging into the great wave of suffering hu-
manity whose sorrows she shared, whose wounds she dressed,
in honor of the Divine Leper; who in reward so inflamed her
heart with the fire of his love that the words of St. Jerome in
regard to St. Paula might be truly applied to her : " She wept
so long for her dead husband, she thought to have died ; after
wards she gave herself so entirely to the Lord, she seemed to
have desired the death of her husband."

Thus in the furnace of affliction her beautiful soul was puri-
fied from earthly dross, and she learned the true meaning of
her favorite chapter in the Imitation, which she said " in the
days of her prosperity " she loved to read and apply to her
affection for those whom she had so idolized : " The lover flies,
runs, and rejoices; he is free, and not held. Love often knows
no measure, but is inflamed above all measure, and like a lively
flame, and a torch all on fire, it mounts upwards and securely
passes through all opposition."

In the course of her ministrations Madame Gamier was sent to a
woman whose condition was so horrible that her wretched compan-
ions had abandoned her, and only returned from time to time to
throw a morsel of food to her. She lay upon a bundle of rags,
in a garret so low that under the sloping roof Madame Gamier
could not stand upright. The mind was as diseased as the
body, and in response to the kind words and sympathetic ques-
tions asked by Madame Gamier there was only a glare from

1892.] THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. 807

the wild eyes, brutalized by vice and debauchery. Nothing
daunted, Madame Gamier returned the next day and the next,
for months. She made a blouse which she put on over her
street dress on entering, and swept and dusted the room, raised
the poor creature in her arms, washed and dressed the bleeding
ulcers, until one morning, when she laid the aching head on the
pillow, she felt a tear on her hand, and a faint voice asked,
"How can you do this? Why do you come here?"

" Because you are God's creature," replied Madame Gamier,
"and I do it in honor of our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for
both of us."

The right chord had been touched, the truth made evident
that to reach the spiritually starved soul the hungry body must
first be fed ; and so Madame Gamier by washing the loathsome
sores had opened the approaches to the deadened heart. As
the end drew near Madame Gamier wished to separate her
from her miserable surroundings, and she obtained admittance
for her into a hospital ; and even then, after the care that had
been lavished upon her, she was so repulsive in appearance that
the chaplain, accustomed as he was to horrors, recoiled for an
instant. To recover from the shock he moved off to another
patient, and on his return he found Madame Gamier seated on
the bed, holding the dying sufferer in her arms as though to
reassure him.

During the long hours passed in watching by this bedside
Madame Gamier thought of the many similar cases there must
be in that very city ; of the women dying alone and uncared for,
and of the other women who should go to their relief. For such
a duty who was so proper as the widow? and the inspiration
came to her to found an association of widows, who should seek
and relieve the most miserable and incurable among women.
The association would accomplish a double end : the sanctifica-
tion of the widow by charity and the salvation of the soul of
the poor sufferer by ministering to the wants of the body. Like
a flash the mission of her life was revealed to her ; how to
accomplish it became the subject of her constant prayer and
meditation.

Shortly after this there was a great fire, and a young girl
was rescued from the flames so terribly burned as to be totally
disfigured. Madame Gamier received her into her own house,
and nursed her with the greatest devotion ; soon after she brought
in two women afflicted with cancer. The harvest was ripening ;
where were the laborers ? At last a widowed friend joined her ;

8o8 THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. [Mar.,

then the question of supplies came up. The sudden death of
Monsieur Gamier and the enforced liquidation of his business in
the midst of an active career had left Madame Gamier with the
modest income of twelve hundred francs, which had sufficed for
her alone ; but now that she had assumed the care of others,
what would that amount to ? In her leisure moments she made
artificial flowers and sold them for the benefit of her helpless
family, and, as that did not bring in enough, she commenced to
beg for her sick poor. She preached her crusade among the
widows with little success ; her ideas were thought chimerical,
impossible. It was admirable to go among the poor for certain
hours, but that women of refinement should be asked to live
with them, to repeat every day the dressing of the same wounds,
was absurd ; she was a visionary, an enthusiast ; and so Madame
Gamier, to stop the growing opposition, resolved to consult the
highest ecclesiastical authority.

The Archbishop of Lyons, Cardinal de Bonald, listened atten-
tively to the exposition of her project and said : " Your idea is
beautiful, it comes from God ; the accomplishment will be diffi-
cult, but that also will come from God. Go forward, and rely
upon me"; and then by a happy inspiration added : " Your work
shall be called the ' Association of the Women of Calvary.''

The Rubicon was passed. In the Catholic city of Lyons the
approval of the archbishop was a command ; purses were opened,
money flowed in so freely that Madame Gamier was encouraged
to look for a larger, more commodious house, and found one in
the Rue Vide-Bourse (Empty Purse), a name that pleased her
immensely. "Ah!" she exclaimed, "that is very appropriate. I
will make the rich empty their purses into the hands of my
poor."

One large carriage was sufficient to transport the entire com-
munity, and when they arrived at the new dwelling the driver
was so afraid he might be asked to assist Marie la Bruise, the
poor burned girl, whose appearance was most revolting, that he
pretended to be absorbed in the care of his horses; so Madame
Gamier presented herself at the carriage door and said : " My
dear child, put your arms around my neck, and try to keep on
my back ; you are as light as a feather. I shall not hurt you ;
don't be afraid!"

And ever in after years Marie la Brulee would recall the
incident and say triumphantly, " I was the first stone of the Cal-
vary."

Success followed in every measure ; vocations were discovered

1892.] THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. 809

among widows, the work was thoroughly organized, constitution
and by-laws formed. There were three patients registered in the
beginning ; the next year there were seventeen, and so great was
the constant increase that before long it was necessary to move
again ; and as Madame Gamier decided it was time for the Cal-
vary to possess its own habitation, she sought and found on an
eminence overlooking Lyons a suitable dwelling surrounded with
beautiful grounds. With her to see was to act. Eight times in
one day she called upon the proprietor, until he was so worn
out with her importunity that he let her have the property on
her own terms, which, of course, was a very great reduction from
the price originally asked.

The final installation was accomplished on July 2, 1853, and
before the completion of the year Madame Gamier had passed
from the scene of her labors. She died December 28, 1853, com-
paratively young in years but old in good works. She had fought
the good fight and had won, and her memory is held in bene-
diction in the city whose poor she had so loved and so faithfully
served, and by all those elsewhere to whom the story of her
noble life is known.

For many years the Calvary of Lyons was unique. In 1874
a house was founded in Paris ; another in St. Etienne soon fol-
lowed, and in 1881 a fourth was successfully established in
Marseilles. In 1886 the work crossed the frontier, and a founda-
tion was made in Brussels with a similar result.

It is a work which by its nature cannot be rapidly developed
or very largely extended ; but wherever it has been established
it has been hailed as a blessing by the suffering poor, and its
utility recognized by the medical faculty, as it supplies a want
long desired a refuge for those incurables whom the physicians
may no longer retain in the hospitals, and yet whose condition
demands greater care than can possibly be bestowed upon them
in the ordinary homes for incurables.

By the last annual reports of some of the houses we learn
that in the Calvary of Lyons, which is the largest establishment
and contains the greatest number of beds, there were twenty-four
deaths, during the year 1890. In the Calvary of Paris, for the
same period, the mortality was greater, for with only forty-five
beds there were forty-three deaths. In Marseilles the fifty beds
were constantly filled ; twenty-seven new cases were entered, and
nineteen died.

The work is admirably organized, supported by the annual
contributions of the members of the association, of which the

VOL. LIV. 52

8io THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. [Mar.,

minimum is twenty francs. The associates may be counted by
hundreds ; the actual workers are comprised in three classes : the
Dames Zelatrices, as we may call them, who are the promoters
and who solicit subscriptions and seek to attract other widows to
the fold ; the Dames Panseuses, or dressers, those who are
retained at home by their duties to their families but who give
certain portions of their time and personal service to the care of
the sick ; and the Dames Residentes, who live in the Calvary,
pay board to the establishment, serve the patients day and night,
and have the management and direction of the house.

The superioress is elected every three years and is assisted in
the discharge of her duties by different officers. There is also a
president of the work, selected from the outside members, who
attends to exterior matters, and a council of three or four men
of wisdom and experience, who aid with their advice and to
whom the monetary affairs are submitted.

The Women of Calvary do not form a religious society prop-
erly so-called. The association exacts no vow from its members,
either perpetual or temporary, and they enter without renounc-
ing family, fortune, or liberty. This is the originality and strength
of the work, which is strictly diocesan under the immediate
control of the bishop, who always presides at the annual meet-
ings, when the report of the year is read. And at the last
annual meeting of the Calvary of Paris, March 11, 1891, after
the reading of the report of the year 1890, the Archbishop of
Paris, Cardinal Richard, who presided, in the course of his re-
marks said : " In every epoch Providence raises up the works
most needed for the times ; and in these days of scepticism,
when the great Christian ideas are weakening in society and the
family, it has inspired this work in which widows, without bind-
ing themselves by religious vows, consent to live with the poor
incurable women, to surround them with their care, and to shed
abroad the salutary influence of good example."

Sweetest of all the effects of the life in the Calvary is the
moral rehabilitation of the poor sufferers, who come in shrink-
ing from observation, feeling themselves to be pariahs in the
human family, shunned and loathed for their personal deformi-
ties and ills. But in the new atmosphere of love and sympathy
they forget their dreadful fate; their hearts shake off their weary
load of sorrow, and they become not only resigned but even
happy. They who may not have entered a church for years
on account of their fearful condition, now find that the church
comes to them ; for by the rule of the Calvary the chapel must

1892.] THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. 811

open with sliding doors into the dormitory. Those who are
able to be up are seated in their arm-chairs in double rows in
the open space before the door ; the rest remain in their beds,
but all may see the priest at the altar and assist at the Holy
Sacrifice of the Mass, which is offered every morning at seven,
and which begins the daily life of the Calvary.

At eight breakfast is served to them by one of the ladies ;
at nine the bell rings for the pansement, or dressing of the
cancers, which is the special act of the day, when several of the
Dames Panseuses generally come to assist. The ladies put on
large white aprons and sleeves over their black dresses and enter
the dormitory, and, all kneeling before the crucifix, the beautiful
prayer composed by Madame Gamier is said ;

"O my God! we offer thee the dressing of these wounds in
honor of the Passion and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ, for
the conversion of sinners, the perseverance of the just, the de-
liverance of the souls in Purgatory. Grant, O Lord ! to our
sick patience and resignation, and to us the spirit of faith and
charity."

Each lady proceeds to her labor of love; the -doctor comes
in, visits the patients, gives his directions, and by eleven the
work is finished, and the First Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary
are said by the united household assembled in the dormitory,
which is the heart of the house, the centre of all operations.
Their dinner, served by a lady, follows ; then recreation till
2 P.M., when the Sorrowful Mysteries are recited, and another
rest until 4, during which time they work or amuse themselves.
At 4 their lunch of coffee and bread and butter is taken ; at 5
the doors of the chapel are open and all assist at the Way of
the Cross, followed by the Last Mysteries of the Rosary ; at
6.30 their supper is served ; night prayers follow, and at 9, when
the lady on duty in the dormitory makes her tour of inspection,
they are generally sleeping quietly after a peaceful, well-spent
day.

The poor creatures feel that the Calvary is theirs, that it
only exists for them, and they take a personal interest in all its
affairs. Those who are able to work are given different light
employments ; they sew and mend, knit stockings, roll the bands
used in the dressings, make lint, assist in many ways ; they
know they are no longer miserable outcasts ; as one woman who
had been condemned to a life of complete isolation for years on
account of a frightful lupus said, after she had been a few

812 THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. [Mar.,

days in her new home : " In the Calvary we forget we have
faces ! "

The most difficult to reconcile to their sad fate are generally
the mothers of young children. It is heartrending sometimes to
listen to their mournful stories, but even in their agony at their
separation from all they love faith and resignation enable them
to rise to true heroism at the supreme moment. One woman,
thirty-eight years old, who had struggled bravely in the world
for the support of her family, was forced at last to give up and
come to the Calvary. She could not be resigned to leave her
three young daughters, the oldest only sixteen, and she was al-
ways hoping against hope that she might soon be better and
return to her little shop, which she had made so successful.
Finally she was told she must die ; the last Sacraments were re-
ceived and her children were sent for. She was wonderfully calm,
gave her last directions to the weeping girls, told them always
to be good children, to love God and one another ; suddenly
she paused, kissed them, and whispered to the lady at her side :
" Send them away now ; when I look at them I lose my cour-
age."

In an article on " Les Dames du Calvaire," in La Charite
Prive'e a Parts, Maxime Du Camp thus describes his visit to the
Calvary in Paris :

"One morning in the month of April, 1883, I arrived at the
Calvary a little while before the visit of the physician. The Dames
Residentes and the Dames Panseuses were already assembled,
and I counted twenty-three of them. The white apron with a
bib pinned over the black dress the widow's livery the false
white sleeves drawn over the arms, the pincers in their hands,
they conversed among themselves, while they walked up and
down the corridor of the infirmary awaiting the moment of
entrance into the dormitory. On the breast they wore the
silver cross which is the decoration of the Calvary, and on the
hand only one ring, that which the priest had blessed on the
marriage-day when hope had bloomed, and which in its flight
had left room only for faith and charity. If the dukes, the
princes, the marquises, the counts, the generals, the magistrates,
the great manufacturers who have lived could see what their
widows are doing to-day, surely they would feel happy to know
the honor of their names had been confided to such safe keep-
ing.

" The Dames du Calvaire entered the dormitory and I fol-
lowed. On the floor they knelt, their heads reverently bent be-
fore the large crucifix, while one recited a short prayer of which
I only remember the last phrase : * Grant, O Lord ! to our sick
patience and resignation, to us the spirit of faith and charity.'

1892.] THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. 813

" They arose and went to their patients. I was with the
doctor, who allowed me to accompany him as he made his visits
to the different beds ; but while walking beside him and listening
to his technical explanations I watched the Dames du Calvaire
and admired the gentleness and rapidity of their movements.
There is no instrument in the world as perfect as the hand of a
skilful woman ; the long, slender fingers have wonderful delicacy
for touching the wounds without irritating them, for washing
them, for spreading the lint, for winding the bands around
them, and then for caressing the cheek of the patient when
the dressing is finished. The work is horrible ; one would not
think so, to see those who accomplish it.

" Joinville relates that when St. Louis carried on his shoulders
to the place of burial those who had died of the plague he was
escorted by the Archbishop of Tyre and the Bishop of.Damietta,
who, assisted by their clergy, recited the prayers for the dead.
Priests and soldiers, terrified by fear of contagion and suffocated
by the odor of the corpses, held, their handkerchiefs to their
faces* * But,' adds the faithful chronicler, ' no one saw the good
King Louis stop up his nose, so firmly and devoutly did he
work.'

" Neither do the Dames du Calvaire 'stop up the nose,' and
near certain beds it is meritorious. Under their eyes I kept up,
but I felt myself grow pale. Not only do they dress the
.wounds, but they take off the caps of the sick women, cleanse
and smooth the tangled hair, and this without turning the head
or any disgust, * firmly and devoutly,' like the good King Louis.
The Dames du Calvaire are women accustomed .to luxury, or at
least to every comfort ; could they have succeeded in conquering
their instincts, in changing their nature, in triumphing over their
repugnance had they not possessed the faith? Never."

A French Dominican father, after visiting a Calvary for the
first time, said: " Les Dames du Calvaire sont les fleurs de arriere-
saison." Very true ; but though they are only autumn flowers in
the spiritual garden of the church, only laborers called at the
eleventh hour, assuredly they may hope that if they prove true
to their mission, they will not in their old age die in the winter
of discontent, but shall rise to a glorious summer in the eternal
Paradise, when the Crucified will show them the prints of the
nails in His Sacred Hands and Feet and will say: "In honor of
these wounds you have served my suffering poor; you have
dressed their wounds, you have soothed their dying hours ; enter
into the kingdom prepared for my faithful servants."

To a superficial observer it may appear superfluous to suggest
that a similar work would be useful in New York, the City of
Magnificent Charities ; but the same conditions exist here as
elsewhere. The poor we have always with us, and in the splen-

8 14 THE WOMEN OF CALVARY. [Mar.,

did Cancer Hospital near Central Park, where the greatest skill
and care are lavished upon the unfortunate sufferers, non-paying
patients who are pronounced incurable can only remain six
months. The women who have homes may be considered rela-
tively happy; those that are homeless and friendless seek refuge
in the Charity Hospital on Blackwell's Island.

According to the report of Dr. Newcomb, the examining
physician of the outside poor at Bellevue Hospital, Department
of Public Charities and Correction, there were 35,762 applicants
for passes for the different charitable institutions on the islands
during the year 1890. Among those thousands of course there
were cancer cases, who were first sent to Charity Hospital, but
when found incurable were obliged to move on, like poor Joe
in Dombey and Son, until they reached the Alms-house, which
is the last stage in the sad procession.

The incurables of the Alms-house are separated from the
other inmates and receive medical aid ; but there are incurables
and incurables. Some are the victims of bad habits ; others are
suffering from the effects of overwork, of poor nourishment, of
the thousand ills that flesh is heir to ; and they generally sink
into a drowsy insensibility, as their pains are often not acute
and their animal wants are provided for. But there is no such
rest for the unfortunate cancerous patients. Their life is a pro-
longed agony, every moment adds to their torture ; and with all
the good-will possible on the side of the city officials, can they
bestow the care and attention needed by these afflicted beings ?

What has been made possible in France and Belgium would
not be impossible in generous America, always ready to respond
to the cry of distress ; and the women whose gowns are fashioned
by Worth and Felix should still more gladly copy the model
presented by the noble self-devotion to the most miserable of
the human race of their French sisters, the Dames du Calvaire.

ANNIE BLOUNT STORES.

7892.] COLUMBUS 's ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION. 815

COLUMBUS'S ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION.

COLUMBUS WAS OF NOBLE ANCESTRY.

I WOULD not deem it of sufficient historical interest to dis-
cuss this question did it not seriously affect the moral character
of the great Mariner. His being descended of a noble x lineage
would add nothing, but rather detract from his merits and glory.
At all times, but especially in the fifteenth century, more obsta-
cles were in the way of the plebeian to rise to prominence than
in the path of those who belonged to the privileged class. But
Columbus laid claim to a noble ancestry and to a coat-of-arms,
which, he pretended, belonged to his family. If it be found that
his claims be not based on truth and that his armorial devices
were spurious, it would go far to establish his character as that
of an unscrupulous and daring adventurer, and nothing more.

That Columbus, even before the discovery of America, claimed
to be of noble descent there is no doubt. In the letters-patent
of Ferdinand and Isabella, dated the twentieth of May, 1493, to
Columbus, by which, as a reward for his great discovery, they
granted him a new coat-of-arms, it is said permission was given him
to insert therein " the arms which he had been using " las armas
que soliades tener. Nevertheless it is certain that his father was
a cloth-weaver, and that Columbus himself, in his boyhood, had
assisted him in carding wool occupations forbidden to the no-
bility of their country. The conclusion is drawn by some critics
(Harrisse among them) that Columbus, when in 1493 he became
a grandee of Spain and was made to sit at the right-hand side
of King Ferdinand, yielded to vainglory and to the prejudices
of the times, which excluded from court circles all plebeians, and
thereby practised a fraud on the Spaniards by palming himself
off as a nobleman. Was he guilty of the charge ? This is the
question I propose to answer.

Previous articles have made the reader acquainted with the
origin of his ancestry on his mother's side. She belonged to a
family of the valley of Bisagno, in the neighborhood of Genoa,
all the members of which were engaged in mechanical, agricul-
tural, or mercantile pursuits. We know his father, Dominic the
weaver, and we made a slight acquaintance of his grandfather,
John ; but all efforts to trace his family farther back in, or in
the neighborhood of, Genoa have failed. Harrisse wrote page after

816 COLUMBUS 's ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION. [Mar.,

page to prove that Dominic had lived in Quinto and had moved
thither from Terrarossa, where a large number of his relatives,
he thought, had lived. But his printer's ink was scarcely dry
when the discovery of the document dated the first of April,
1439, quoted in former articles, effectually felled the genealogical
tree so well nursed by the New York critic. For it shows that
Dominic, on that date, was already domiciled in Genoa, whereas the
Dominic whom Harrisse endeavored to identify with the father of
Christopher was yet living at Quinto on the I5th of December, 1445.

There were living in and around Genoa several other Dominic
Columbuses whose fathers' name was also John ; but it is demon-
strated that none of them was an ancestor of the discoverer of
America. Whence, then, was his grandfather, John Columbus ?
We see his name mentioned in several authentic documents as
being the father of Dominic, but his occupation is nowhere given.
In 1439 Dominic must have been a young man, for he was yet
living in 1494. He, however, hired on that date an apprentice in his
own name, and his father is mentioned in the contract only thus :
" Dominic Columbus, the son of John, weaver of woollen cloth."
While Dominic's occupation is given, his father's is not. Now, so
careful were the notaries to insert the trade or occupation of
the contracting parties named in all transactions of any impor-
tance, that in 1494 Dominic, although he was only acting in the
capacity of witness to a will, is thus described : " Dominic
Columbus, who was at one time a weaver of woollen cloth." "At
one time " was inserted because in 1494 the old man needed no
longer to work at manual labor, as Christopher his son had un-
doubtedly provided for him on his return from America. We
know, in fact, that the monarchs of Spain had ennobled even his
brother James, who was then no more than a journeyman weaver.
The foregoing reflections go to show that the careful critic should
not consider it improbable that John Columbus might have beei
a gentleman in reduced circumstances, forced by poverty to fon
go his title to nobility and to allow his son to learn a trad*

During the political convulsions of the fourteenth and fifteentl
centuries it often happened in northern Italy that noblemen ol
a losing faction were exiled and their estates confiscated. Man;
of them found a convenient refuge in the neighboring republic
of Genoa, where they merged with the plebeian classes. La<
Casas, quoting the Portuguese historian Barros, has the following
" His ancestors Columbus's were distinguished persons, at one
time rich, ... at another poor on account of the wars an<
factions that always existed and were never lacking in the great-

1892.] COLUMBUS'S ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION. 817

est portion of Lombardy." Oviedo says: " His ancestry has
its origin from the old and noble lineage of the Perestrello, a
family that dwelt in the city of Piacenza, on the Po, in Lom-
bardy." According to this author there must have been an
intermarriage of the Columbus and the Perestrello families. That
there was in the fifteenth century at least one family of Colum-
bus of noble rank in Piacenza is proved by authentic documents.
Oviedo had evidently taken trouble to ascertain the birthplace
and origin of Columbus, for he says at the same page of his
work, Historia general, etc., from which the words quoted above
are taken : " As I learned from men of his nationality, he was
born in the province of Genoa, in Italy, where is found the city
and dominion of Genoa ; some say in Savona, others in a small
place or village called Nervi ; but it is considered more certain
that he was born in a place called Cugureo." While, therefore,
he could find no positive information as to the place of his
nativity, he had no doubt as to the ancestry and noble lineage of
Columbus. Official chronicler of Spain at a time when Diego
Columbus, the admiral's son, was in litigation with the king to
obtain the titles and estates inherited from his father, Oviedo
was not over-friendly throughout his works to Columbus. Had
he had an opportunity he would not have failed to expose the
fraudulent nature of Columbus's claim to an ancient and noble
lineage, nor did he lack opportunity for information, being of
the same age, as he says himself, with Columbus's eldest son,
Diego, in whose companionship he grew to manhood while both
were feltow-pages to the royal family.

Why should not the testimony of the two contemporary his-
torians, Las Casas and Oviedo, be taken as conclusive ? As it
was believed in Portugal and in Spain that Columbus was of
noble origin, so it was in Italy during the sixteenth century.
In Piacenza the relatives of Columbus were then known. A poet
of that city, Marinoni, wrote about sixty years after the death of
Columbus :

" Cui mecum patria est eadem, generose Colombe
Cujus avos olim praeclara Placentia misit,

Antiques florent et ubi vestigia prolis."

I purposely refrain from quoting the biography of Columbus
by his son Ferdinand, as it has been found to be unreliable. It
is useless to say that he too traces the ancestry of his father
to Piacenza. To this direct evidence much more can be added
of an indirect nature. It is known that during the several law-
suits instituted to determine the lawful heirs to the estate and

8i8 COLUMBUS' s ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION. [Mar.,

title of the discoverer of America, several claimants presented
themselves, from Italy, before the courts of Spain. But all of
them endeavored to trace their kinship to the admiral through
the Piedmontese or Lombard branches of the Columbus family,
which, the Spanish historian Herrera tells us, sprang from the
same stock. To establish their claims they produced their coat-
of-arms, in all essentials identical with the one claimed by Col-
umbus before 1492. Columbus married the daughter of a Portu-
guese nobleman, named Bartolomeo Perestrello, whose father was
a nobleman from Piacenza. Is it probable that such an alliance
could have been contracted if the then penniless Genoese could
not have proved that his blood was of gentle extraction. On
the contrary, it requires no effort of the imagination to suppose
that Columbus, finding himself in a foreign country, naturally
fell in with a family whose ancestry had ties of kinship, caste, or
friendship with his own. Could he have practised a fraud on
Perestrello ? Not likely ; because the little island of Porto
Santo, where the family estates were, like all the ports and cities
of Portugal, had a colony of expatriated noblemen, adventurers,
seamen, merchants, etc., from Italy, especially from Genoa and
Lombardy. When again penniless and in another foreign coun-
try, Spain, Columbus made a living by drawing geographical and
mariner's charts, or by selling books, or on the subventions of
the court, we find him consorting with the noble families there,
where he became the father of a son by a woman of gentle blood.

Peter Martyr describes Columbus as follows : " Christopher
Columbus was a man of high and portly stature, . . . red in
the face." Oviedo says of him : " He was good-looking and
tall, above the medium height, robust, with lively eyes, and the
other parts of his face well proportioned ; his hair very reddish,
and his face rather florid and somewhat freckled." Las Casas
says : " He was tall above the average, the face long and impres-
sive, the nose aquiline, the eyes blue, his complexion white turn-
ing to a sanguine red, his hair and beard, when young, red."
We have here the Lombard type of manhood, which does not
belong to the Riviera, at least in families originally Genoese.

The foregoing considerations, even if they be found not to
constitute an absolute historical demonstration that Columbus
sprung from a noble ancestry, taken in connection with the fact
that he claimed such an ancestry, and that contemporary history
left us no indications of his claim having been challenged, should
expel from the mind of the unbiased critic all doubt that the
brave, the generous, the magnanimous Genoese could have de-

.^892.] COLUMBUS 's ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION. 819

ceived and imposed upon the Portuguese and Spanish gentry.
The fact alone that his fathers and grandfathers did not consort
with the noble families of Genoa does not prove that theirs was
not gentle blood.

THE EDUCATION OF COLUMBUS.

In the biography of Columbus by his son Ferdinand which
is only known to us by an Italian translation edited in 1471
the following passage occurs : " In his young days he went to
school at Pavia and studied enough to enable him to understand
the writers on cosmography, to the reading of which he was
much given. He studied also astronomy and geometry, because
these sciences are so closely connected that one cannot go with-
out the other." The substantial truth of this statement was
never controverted until of very late years. Washington Irving
and all his predecessors had no doubt of it. Henry Harrisse
rendered a great service to American history by demonstrating
in three different works that the " Histories " attributed to Fer-
dinand Columbus were very unreliable. But he went too far and
all but asserted that they had not been written by him, but
were the compilation of a pretended translator. When, how-
ever, the great work of Las Casas, Historia de las Indias, was
published and literal quotations from the " Historic " were found
in it ; inasmuch as Las Casas is known to have died before the
publication of said " Historic " in Italian, and inasmuch as he
repeatedly professes to draw information from a history of Col-
umbus written by his son Ferdinand, Harrisse was forced to ac-
knowledge that the authorship of the " Historic " is genuine.
Still he wrote his ponderous critical biography, Christophe
Colomb^ not only without reference to the " Historic," but, in
the language of Justin Winsor, in his Narrative and Critical
History of America, relegating " to the category of fiction " any
received incident in the career of Columbus if only traceable to
Ferdinand's " Historic."

Unable to reconcile the passage quoted above from Ferdinand's
work with his preconceived chronological theory and the Savon-
ese documents, Harrisse denied the truth of it. Convinced that
Columbus was born not earlier than 1446, and that he spent his
youth and. early manhood in weaving cloth, he reasons thus :
Columbus wrote in 1501 that he had taken to a seafaring life
when very young and had continued in it upwards of forty
years. If so, he must have finished his studies in astrology and
cosmography before being quite fourteen years old, which is incred-
ible. Of course, if Columbus was born not later than 1436 the

820 COLUMBUS 's ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION. [Mar.,

argument fails. But Harrisse insists : " It requires a great effort
of the imagination to think of a Genoese boy of such an age, in
the middle of the fifteenth century, the son of a poor weaver,
himself an apprenticed weaver, starting alone from Genoa and
crossing the Apennines, with the sole end in view of going to
Pavia to learn astrology and cosmography."

That the methods of this critic may be better known I
answer: 1st. The father of the boy cannot be properly called a
poor weaver. Documents acknowledged by Harrisse as authentic
show that previous to 1470 he owned in the city of Genoa two
houses, and outside of it at least two other pieces of real estate,
on one of which was a house. 2d. Nowhere is it said that the
boy crossed the Apennines alone. The feat, however, would
not have been a difficult one. The Apennines near Genoa
are not very high or difficult to cross, being dotted in the
fifteenth century, as now, with towns and villages more than half
way to the highest summit. Then, as now, considerable com-
merce was carried on between Genoa on one side and Piedmont
and Lombardy on the other. 3d. Nowhere is it said, if the
documents be properly interpreted, that Columbus was an
apprenticed weaver. 4th. He did not go to Pavia for the pur-
pose of learning astrology or cosmography. The meaning of the
above-quoted passage from the " Historic " is, that " he studied in
Pavia as much as was necessary to the reading of the writers on
cosmography, to which he was much given," and that because
he was much given to the reading of writers on cosmography, he
also studied but not necessarily in Pavia astrology and geometry.

Las Casas, who, no doubt, had before him the original
Spanish work of Ferdinand, speaks of the early studies of
Columbus as follows in his Historia de las Indias, book i. chap. iii. :
" Being then a child, his parents sent him to school to learn how
to read and write, and he acquired so good and legible a hand-
writing I have seen it many times that by it he could have
made a living. He studied also arithmetic, drawing, and paint-
ing, by which as well he could have gained a livelihood had he
so desired. He studied the first rudiments of letters in Pavia,
especially grammar, and became well versed in Latin, for which
he is praised by the above-mentioned Portuguese history, which
says that he was a good and eloquent Latin scholar."

It cannot be objected that Las Casas relied solely for his
information on Ferdinand's biography of his father, for he pre-
faced the passage quoted above with the following : " It seems
to be proper to record the acquired graces and the occupations

1892.] COLUMBUS 's ANCESTRY AND EDUCATION. 821

in which he was engaged before he came to Spain, as can be
gathered from letters that he wrote to the king and to other
persons, and from letters of others to him, and from his other
writings, and also from the Portuguese history Barros' as
well as by what he accomplished."

The objection made that he had greater facilities to learn
cosmography at home in the University of Genoa fails, for it is
not claimed that he studied it at any particular school. His
having gone to school in Lombardy adds another element of
probability to the theory that his family hailed originally from
that province of Italy. Dominic must have availed himself of
the opportunity of giving his eldest son, Christopher, an edu-
cation by sending him to live for a time where contact and
intercourse with noble relatives should create in the boy a desire
and the laudable ambition of causing, at some future time, his
branch of the family to rank once more among the gentry.

It is useless to search among the records of the University of
Pavia for the name of Columbus as a student of astronomy or
cosmography. He went there to learn his classics, as a boy.
Harrisse is undoubtedly in error when he says : " Nobody had
dreamed of giving to Pavia the honor of being his Alma Mater
before the publication of the ' Historic.' ' The latter appeared
in 1571 and Las Casas died in 1566.

It is probable that the school-days of Columbus ended at the
age of fourteen. But it must not appear strange that at that
age he should have finished his Latin. Education in the fifteenth
century began with Latin, and Columbus never learned enough
of Italian to make use of it in his correspondence. Although
much given to writing, he left us not a line in that language.
Even when Addressing Italians he made use of Spanish or Latin.
The very rudiments of his education having begun with Latin,
that he should have been familiar with it at fourteen is not
more extraordinary than that a bright American boy of to-day
and of that age should write correct English.

How Washington Irving was beguiled to believe that
Columbus studied, besides his classics, geometry, geography,
astronomy, and navigation especially the last-named science in
an inland town before he was fourteen years old is not easy to
understand. The two following paragraphs appear in the first
chapter of his Life of Columbus : " For a short time also he
was sent to the University of Pavia, where he studied geometry,
geography, cosmography, and navigation." "He entered upon a
nautical life when but fourteen years of age."

Jackson, Miss. L. A. DUTTO.

822 DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. [Mar.,

DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS.

How few of us reflect what a wonderful thing sleep is. Yet
in sleep we pass nearly one-third of our life. The truth is, we do
not sufficiently study ourselves. Too many persons who call
themselves well educated have no knowledge at all of the brain,
its functions and relations. They go placidly on, satisfied with
a learning in which physiology plays no part. But we believe
the dawn of a better day is breaking, and that in the not dis-
tant future more weight will be given in our studies to the natu-
ral sciences. Professor Alfred Maury, author of Sleep and
Dreams, used to engage a person to watch him while he slept,
and to wake him at intervals in order that he might take fresh
note of some dream, which dream had perhaps been provoked
by the person watching him. He tells us that once while asleep
his brother said to him, " Take a match," and immediately he
dreamt that he was looking for a match. At another time a
bottle of cologne-water held to his nose caused Dr. Maury to
dream he was in the perfumery store of Juan Farina at Cairo.
Now, in order to make such experiments and kindred ones upon
ourselves it is not necessary that we should have the ability and
originality of the author of Sleep and Dreams. All that is
needed is more enthusiasm in the study of this body of ours,
which is certainly the most beautiful and marvellous material
thing God has created.

Sleep may be defined as a physical phenomenon which has
peculiar psychical effects, and the better opinion is that during
normal sleep not the pathological sleep of intoxication the
brain is in an anaemic state, there is less blood in it, and it has
been proved by observation that when a person has a dream
vivid enough to be remembered after he wakes the brain enve-
lope grows perceptibly inflated.* A Dutch physiologist, Schroe-
der van der Kolk, maintains that while we are dreaming only one
of the cerebral hemispheres is active, and which hemisphere this
is depends on which side of the head is resting on the pillow.
The hemisphere which is lowest will naturally have more blood
in it and a quicker circulation, and therefore more vitality.
But his views are not generally accepted. Once asleep, unless
roused by some external impression, we sleep on until our forces

* Luys : Recherches sur le systZme nerveux clrebro-spinal.

1892.] DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. 823

are repaired. Then the mere stimulus afforded by the circula-
tion of the blood is enough to waken us. But the different parts
of the body may not all wake up at the same time ; one organ
may be roused first, and this organ will rouse another organ of
the body, and so on until we are wholly awake. And it is in-
teresting to know that the sense of hearing is the last sense to
be lost in sleep. When chloroform is inhaled, after all the rest
of the system is seemingly dead the patient's ear is still able
to catch the words of those who are speaking near him.

There is probably no sleep without dreams. In the deepest
sleep there is no doubt some cerebral activity, although when
we wake we may not be able to recall what we have dreamt.
As a rule the elements of a dream are the sensations and images
perceived and felt while we were awake, and which are now re-
produced.

In dreams a man reveals himself just what he really is :
there is no will power, no sense of honor, no fear of what others
may say of him to control his thoughts ; and the study of
dreams is all the more interesting when we consider that dreams
and hallucinations are kin to each other. Indeed, good authori-
ties hold that the phenomena which constitute dreaming, halluci-
nations, imagination, and memory are not essentially different ;
that they differ only in degree, and are put in motion by the
same mechanism, so to speak. Dreams may be called the hallu-
cinations of sleep, just as hallucinations are the dreams of our
waking state. It certainly sounds odd to be told that a dream
is a species of delirium ; but we know that while we are dream-
ing the will is in abeyance, and our reasoning powers are so
diminished that the brain-pictures which present themselves, fan-
tastic and unnatural as they may be, are sufficient to absorb
our whole attention. What the waking mind does voluntarily
it now does, as it were, automatically. And if we sometimes in
a dream continue the same train of thought which the intellect
followed while we were awake, it is because before we fell asleep
our will prepared the conditions needed for this phenomenon ;
the brain has stayed awake only for a certain class of mental
operations. There are probably few of us who do not know how
well the brain can labor without the intervention of the will.
We often know a lesson studied in the evening better the next
morning after a good night's rest ; we find a problem in mathe-
matics hard to solve, lay it by for a couple of days, then take
it up again and lo ! the problem is no longer so difficult.
Tortini, the composer, finished a sonata while he was asleep

824 DREAMS AA?D HALLUCINATIONS. [Mar.,

which he had not been able to finish while he was awake. He
saw in a dream a musician playing on a violin, and .heard the
very sonata he had been trying to compose. He immediately
woke and wrote it out. In all these cases the brain having re-
ceived the initial impulse, having been put on the track, has
gone ahead and performed its task unconsciously to us. We
may be sure that without the previous movement of his brain,
without the first effort to compose the music, Tortini's dream
would not have occurred. And this unconscious cerebration may
even reveal to us bodily ailments which we are not conscious of
while awake. Macario relates that a person dreamt that his leg
had turned into stone ; shortly afterwards this leg became para-
lyzed. A young woman perceived in a dream objects dimly, as
if through a cloud ; not long afterward her sight began to fail.
These and other curious instances of seeming .prophetic power in
dreams arise from inward sensations being more keenly felt dur-
ing sleep, when outward excitations are not present to divert
our thoughts. We know that Hippocrates and Galen made use
of their patients' dreams to discover their bodily ills ; and Aris-
totle speaks of this method of diagnosis.*

But perhaps the most singular dreams are those in which we
have a presentiment that something is going to happen which
shortly afterwards does happen. Here the law of coincidences
may count for something. Nevertheless, good authorities hold
that certain judgments, based on knowledge unconsciously ac-
quired, may be formed and elaborated by use of the depths of
the brain, of which judgments only the conclusion reaches the
sensorium. Here, as we do not perceive the premises nor the
linking together of the facts, but only the final outcome of our
unconsciously formed judgments, we are naturally very much as-
tonished, and may even see in our dream something supernatu-
ral. And here let us say there is no more precious mine for the
physiological psychologist to work upon than unconscious cere-
bration.

But if while we dream our reasoning powers are diminished
there is one faculty which, instead of being lessened, is singu-
larly increased, viz., memory. We may recall in a dream things
which we do not remember while awake ; we may also take up
the thread of one dream in a subsequent dream, although dur-
ing the intermediate waking state we may have quite forgotten it.

It is a mooted question among physiologists whether in the
condition of the nervous system called somnambulism the som-

* Parva Naturalia et Problem xxx. p. 471.

1892.] DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. 825

nambulist is able to see ; for his eyes may be wide open. We
know that in this state the person can sometimes read and write.
We know, too, that the somnambulist can hear, taste, and smell.
But it is his sense of touch which is keenest which is, so to
speak, most awake. In somnambulism touch would actually
seem to take the place of sight, and, marvellous to relate, a som-
nambulist with eyes closed has been known to distinguish colors
by the sense of touch. Nevertheless, despite the authority of
Dr. Lelut, author of Le Genie, la Raison et la Folie, it is generally
held that in somnambulism there are no objective sight percep-
tions. A somnambulist engaged in writing will continue to write
equally well when a sheet of pasteboard is held between his eyes
and the paper on which he is writing. We may consider a person
in this state as profoundly asleep to everything except what lies
within the narrow circle of his somnambulistic reverie ; but for
everything within this narrow circle his brain is intensely active.
The somnambulist is a dreamer whose marvellous sense of touch
arouses an hallucination of the object which he touches, and the
mental image thus exteriorized is as vivid to him as if he were
wide awake.

The analogy between several of the phenomena of dreams
and certain forms of insanity was observed by Cabanis nearly a
century ago ; and since then the philosopher Maine de Biran,
although not versed in pathology, has maintained that dreams
and mental alienation are not far apart. * In dreams we observe
the same acceleration of thought as in madness. Those who
dream aloud the words may be only half uttered say a great
deal in an uncommonly brief space. That dreams are a species
of delirium is now generally accepted, and between delirium and
insanity there is no marked break. It may be said that natural
somnambulism, artificial somnambulism (hypnotism), and hysteria
all have their point of departure, their root in the dream. So in
the dream we discover the first faint outlines of mental disturbance.

But more interesting, perhaps, than dreams to the physiologi-
cal psychologist are hallucinations. An hallucination is a sense
perception which has no exterior object to give it birth. All the
senses are susceptible to hallucinations ; but the most common
are hallucinations of hearing, of sight, and of the general sensibility.
Dr. Lelut says in Le Genie, la Raison et la Folie, " Sil y a un carac-
tere for me I et indubitable de la folie ce sont les hallucinations,'" etc.
Nevertheless, some alienists maintain that hallucinations are not

* Maine de Biran : Nouvelles considerations sur les rapports du physique et du moral de
Fhomme,

VOL. LIV. 53

826 DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. [Mar.,

an indubitable sign of insanity, and it is an undoubted fact that
hallucinations may exist and persist through a whole lifetime
seemingly in company with perfect reason. A careful reading of
what Xenophon and Plato tell us of their master Socrates shows
that he had hallucinations of hearing. But these hallucinations,
which lasted upwards of forty years, did not prevent him from
being the greatest philosopher of ancient times. If Socrates was
mad, then it would be well if there were more like him. Yet it
is only true to add that in very many, perhaps the majority, of
cases persons troubled by hallucinations are not sane.

Here let us observe that all through life we are receiving un-
consciously through the senses an infinite number of impressions
which are stored up as images, and these images may or may
not ever be revealed to us. Thus we may in early life hear
read or spoken a passage in a foreign tongue, and years after-
wards we may, under certain morbid conditions, repeat this very
passage, to the amazement of those who are listening and who
had no idea that we could speak Greek or Hebrew. Now, these
images stored up as memories are the materials out of which
hallucinations are formed ; and between the brain-pictures of
memory and of hallucinations there is only a difference of degree
of intensity. In other words, the phenomenon of hallucinations,
like the phenomenon of memory, is nothing but the reappear-
ance, the thrusting forward anew, of brain-images previously
localized in the brain. In an hallucination of hearing, the
stronger the original brain-impression the louder and more dis-
tinct will be the hallucination. Thus, if a person troubled by
hallucinations of hearing speaks several languages, the voice
speaking the language he knows best will be the loudest and
clearest, while the language he is least perfect in he will hear
faintly, indistinctly spoken. Those who have made a study of
physiological optics have proved that in memories and in hallu-
cinations of sight the retina is impressed in the same way : *
what was a memory, under certain conditions becomes changed
into an hallucination ; and it is surely rash to say that a person
so affected is always insane. Indeed, there are cases in which
persons by mere force of will have been able to make stand out
objectively before them the. object upon which they had fixed
their thoughts. But those who possess this rare and weird
power should be most careful how they use it ; a step further
and their reason might be overthrown faces and forms unbid-
den might appear.

* Dr. Max Simon : Le Mondes des Reves.

1892.] DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. 827

But in order better to comprehend the genesis of hallucina-
tions we must know how the senses, especially the sense of
sight, are impressed by the exterior world. Objects around us
affect us through the eye by color and by form. But in reality
objects have no color of their own ; if they appear of this or
that color, it is because they reflect or rather diffuse, certain
rays of the spectrum while they absorb others. Now, it is
these diffused rays of light which keep us in touch with the
outer world. But light is an undulatory motion, and its rays
when they strike the retina of the eye put it also in motion ;
and these vibrations of the retina reach the sensorium and are
thence propagated through deeper recesses of the brain, where
they are stored up as so many brain pictures. Now, good
physiologists hold that the original vibrations of the retina,
which have been communicated to particular brain-cells, never
entirely die out, although they may dwindle down to an infin-
itely feeble movement ; and that long afterwards under a fresh
impulse (given, perhaps, by the will, or caused by excitement in
the brain) these vibrations may be quickened and transmitted
outwardly : if this outward movement be too attenuated to reach
the retina, if it stop short on the way, then we have the phe-
nomenon called a memory ; but if it be intense enough to reach
the retina, then it will constitute an hallucination. Let us
quote from Buchez's Traite des maladies mentales and his theory
of hallucinations was adopted by the great Dr. Morel :

" Since it is admitted that a sense-impression goes from the
sense to the apparatus of transmission, from this to the brain,
why should it not be admitted that a brain-picture may take
the inverse route, influence the brain marrow, and through
this attack the apparatus of transmission, and through the lat-
ter influence the sense itself ; that is to say, take in the end
the energy and the seat of an exterior sensation ?"

In other words, a subjective image follows an inverse route
from the one taken by an objective image. And what
gives this view of hallucinations a high probability is the fact
that the retina is placed by an hallucination in the same
physiological state as it is placed in after an impression made
on it by an exterior object. We thus see how close the rela-
tion is between a true perception and an hallucination : in
both cases the nervous machinery is put in the same dynamic
state and we cannot, therefore, wonder if a person troubled by
hallucinations should, at least in the beginning, firmly believe in

828 DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. [Mar.,

their objective reality. And here let us say that all the nerve
impressions which come to us through our other senses are like-
wise the result of motion ; these senses catch the vibrations in
the midst of which we exist and transmit them to our brain-
cells.

Hallucinations may appear suddenly, yet in this suddenness
there is nothing so very extraordinary. In normal physiology
we find something analogous to it. When we try to recall a
word or name which escapes us and we finally give it up in
despair, the name or word will often, as it were, rush before us.
The only difference is that here the image-sign (for the
word is indeed an image of a peculiar kind) does not appear
objectively. Often, however, hallucinations come on gradually.
Sometimes in hallucinations of sight they form themselves piece
by piece : the eye begins by mistaking one color for another ;
then shortly some well-defined but oddly-shaped figure appears.
A woman whose reason had been affected by an assault com-
mitted on her perceived at first the clenched fist, then the arm
of the man who had attacked her ; by and by a pair of eyes
appeared on the fist ; then the arm trebled in length, until final-
ly the whole changed into a horrible serpent. A very interest-
ing case of an hallucination of sight is that of the librarian
Nicolai, of Berlin, in 1791. He was at the time in good health
of body and mind, and the death's-head and other figures which
haunted him he at length grew quite accustomed to. After a
while he heard them speaking, sometimes to himself, sometimes
to one another. He got rid of these hallucinations in the end
by an application of leeches. For a detailed account of Nico-
la'i's case see the work of Brierre de Boismont, entitled Des
hallucinations. The influence of light on hallucinations of sight
is^ remarkable. In some cases these appearances occur both by
day and by night, but quite often they happen only in the dark
and fade away the moment the room is lighted. And let us
add that they always follow the movement of our eyes and
hide from view objects placed behind them. Hallucinations of
sight are not so common among blind persons as hallucinations
of hearing are among the deaf. But Esquirol, in his Traite des
maladies mentales, mentions several cases of blind persons who
had hallucinations of sight. The active exercise of the faculties
is an obstacle to hallucinations. Nicolai, the librarian, of whom
we have spoken, tells us that he tried hard to bring objectively
before him by an effort of his will the images of persons whom
he had seen in hallucinations. But, although he was able to see

1892.] DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. 829

them interiorly in his mind, he was, not able to exteriorize them.
Yet at one time these images had appeared distinctly, objec-
tively before him when he was making no effort to exteriorize
them. And Baillarger, in his work on hallucinations, remarking
on this fact, makes a comparison between the mode in which
hallucinations are produced and what often occurs when, as we
have already observed, we try to recall something which escapes
us ; here the surest way to recall it is to think no more about
it, and lo ! it suddenly comes to us.

It is interesting to observe how hallucinations of sight disap-
pear. In some cases the images and forms depart suddenly, to
the unutterable relief of the afflicted person. As a rule, however,
they go away gradually ; they recede stubbornly inch by inch,
until at length they melt, as it were, in the door or wall of
the room.

But much more common than hallucinations of sight are
hallucinations of hearing ; for one person with the former hallu-
cination there will be three or four with the latter kind. The
simplest form of an hallucination of hearing consists in the mere
repetition of one word. More complicated ones are when the
person hears his own thoughts immediately repeated aloud, or
when he reads to himself and hears a voice repeating what he
reads. Sometimes we may hear two voices, one bidding us com-
mit a wicked deed, the other voice imploring us not. But per-
haps the most curious hallucination of hearing is where a per-
son holds a conversation with an invisible being near him ; while
the person is speaking the other voice is silent. Here the phe-
nomenon assumes an intermittent form. Tasso carried on such
conversations with what he called his familiar spirit. It may
happen, too, that the voice is heard by only one ear, although
the other ear may not be in the least deaf. Good authorities
tell us that when we hear one voice answering another voice it
is because the two hemispheres of the brain are not working in
harmony : the double brain gives the effect of two distinct per-
sons speaking. As hallucinations of sight may occur among the
blind, so may hallucinations of hearing occur among the deaf.
Beethoven in his last years used to hear his own compositions
very distinctly.

If in hallucinations of hearing and of sight we sometimes see
and hear sounds and objects quite new to us, it is because the
creative power of the imagination allows the ear and the eye to
combine new sounds and figures put of the various sensations
which have already been perceived. And here let us repeat

830 DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. [Mar.,

that every organ of the human body is capable of receiving and
storing up sensible impressions, and it is these impressions
which form the ground-work of memories and hallucinations.

As a rule an hallucination of hearing manifests itself sud-
denly. There are cases, however, in which, like an hallucination
of sight, it develops little by little. It may in the beginning be
only a faint sound a tapping on the wall; then by and by a
voice is heard just when the person awakens from sleep. At
length the voice or voices are heard calling aloud all day long.
And sometimes hallucinations of hearing combine with hallucina-
tions of sight to deceive and worry us. An hallucination of hear-
ing, like an hallucination of sight, generally ceases by degrees. The
voice grows less frequent and less distinct ; at length it becomes
a mere whisper ; then it dies away entirely. And let us add
as a curious fact, that often a painful neuralgia will cease when
an hallucination occurs and return as soon as the hallucination
ceases.

After hallucinations of hearing and of sight the most com-
mon hallucinations are those of touch and of the general sensi-
bility. In the simple hallucination of touch the person may feel
an invisible hand pressing his hand, or he may feel something
like a fan or a bird's wing lightly brushing over his hair. But
in hallucinations of the general sensibility a person will some-
times believe that he is changed into a brute. One of the sons
of the great Conde", we are told in the memoirs of St. Simon,
fancied that he was a dog and would then open wide his jaws,
but he did not bark. At the beginning of the seventeenth cen-
tury this hallucination broke out as an epidemic in France, and
great numbers of persons believed that they were wolves. In
these and other similar nervous outbreaks there can be no doubt
that the essential element of the trouble was an hallucination of
the general sensibility; only persons not versed in morbid psy-
chology can doubt it. At Padua, in 1541, there was a man who
believed that he was a wolf, and who was captured only after he
had committed many atrocities. To his captors he whispered:
" I am indeed a wolf, and if my skin does not look like the skin
of a wolf it is because it is turned wrong side out ; the hairs
are now on the inner side." This man undoubtedly had a sensa-
tion of hairs and bristles on his body.*

We are told that when this hallucination breaks Out in Abys-
sinia the person believes that he is changed into a hyena, this

* Jean Wier : Histoire dispiites et discours des illusions des diables, etc.' 1 ' 1 Trad, du
Latin. Paris. 1888.

1892.] DREAMS AND HALLUCINATIONS. 831

being the wild animal most common in that region. Sometimes
a person troubled with an abnormal sense of feeling will believe
that he is lifted up and carried through the air. And in former
times, when sorcerers declared that they had taken long flights
through space, they were merely afflicted with an hallucination
of the general sensibility. And as in this hallucination as in-
deed in every hallucination the sensation is a real one, the unfor-
tunate creatures stubbornly asserted, even to the death, that they
had flown through the -air. The opposite extreme to an halluci-
nation is meditation, for meditation represents the highest degree
of intellectual activity. There is, it is true, some analogy between
them : in each there is isolation from the outer world and a sus-
pension of external impressions. But the attention of a person
who is meditating is concentrated on one point, w.hereas during
an hallucination the attention is utterly relaxed and the exercise
of the faculties is involuntary. Nevertheless, when the brain has
been overtaxed then a prolonged meditation tends to bring on
an hallucination, and the subject of the hallucination will then,
as a rule, be the subject on which we have been meditating, or
something akin to it. If the mind, too, be greatly preoccupied by
anything (this, however, is not meditation) if a frightful thought
haunts us, such as that we may see a dead person appear whom
we have wronged, it may happen that the dead person will real-
ly appear objectively to us. Here we have an hallucination in-
duced by an overwrought brain.

Dr. Baillarger, in his excellent work on hallucinations, divides
them into two kinds, namely, psycho-sensorial and psychical.
Of this distinction we merely observe that psychical hallucinations,
which are almost exclusively confined to the hearing, are quite
independent of the organs of sense, and perfectly sane persons
who experience them always speak as if they only seemed to
hear a voice. They are conscious, as it were, of an interior con-
versation going on in their heads ; and a patient mentioned by
Dr. Baillarger, who had psychical hallucinations, used to say he
heard the thought by the help of a sixth sense, which he called
the sense of thought. Here let us say, for it is an interesting
fact, that in the fourteenth century an Arab writer, Ibn-Khal-
doun, also divided hallucinations into psychical and psycho-
sensorial, and his manuscripts translated into French Prottgome-
nes historiques show that he was far in advance of his age.

Let us conclude what we have said on the subject of dreams
and hallucinations by saying again that the human body is
affected by numberless vibrations coming to it from the exterior

832 S//? EDWIN ARNOLD. [Mar.,

world ; that these vibrations are gathered in by the senses, and,
movement begetting movement, they are transmitted by them to
our brain-cells, where they remain to form the ground-work of
phenomena which in an age less scientific than ours were rele-
gated to the province of the magician and the sorcerer. But
sorcery and magic are now dead and buried, while open before
us lies the wonderland of natural science. Yet in this wonder-
land we find in truth everywhere the supernatural, and the fur-
ther we penetrate into its depths the more discoveries we make,
the more we are impressed by the power and majesty of God.

WILLIAM SETON.

SIR EDWIN ARNOLD.

HE sings so sweetly of Thy wondrous light

And Thy dear love, O Lord ! and gives such share
Of tender homage to Thy Mother fair,

And tells so touchingly how hearts contrite

Like that of Magdalen may rival quite
The purest bosoms in the love they bear
When once Thy mercy touch has led them where

True love abides that angels envy might

His matchless song. Ah ! did his voice but reach
Beyond those rhapsodies of perfect art

And grace, and lend the music of his speech
To make for Faith as well as stir the heart,

His song were Heaven's. Light of the world ! teach
Thy singer how to chant a Credo s part !

T. A. M.

1892.] IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. 833

THE IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL
GOVERNMENT.*

THE closing of the last session of the British Parliament has
witnessed a land-purchase act for Ireland ajid an act to make
the sale and transfer of land a simple and inexpensive operation.
The latter, which is a most radical inroad on property as an in-
stitution of technical law, is mainly due to the Right Hon. D.
H. Madden, M.P., attorney-general for Ireland. From the mo-
ment of his appointment it became clear that ministers had en-
tered on a policy of justice and conciliation. He had no part in
the state prosecutions which made the era of his predecessor a
nineteenth century travesty of the high-prerogative times of the
Stuarts ; so that any legislation he inaugurated was entitled to
and received consideration from all parties.

It appears that a local government bill for Ireland will be
brought in upon the lines of the measures for England and
Scotland. The introduction of such a measure was certainly part
of the consideration to be paid for the support of the Liberal
Unionists. The promise of ministers to introduce it was the re-
ply to all questions as to their Irish policy. It is the cakes
and ale after the whips and scorpions. By this promise they
justified every attack upon personal and public liberty in Ire-
land.

Now that the time for the fulfilment of the pledge has come
a great outcry has been raised by the Irish Tories. I cannot
pause to point out the morality of men who acquiesced in the
pledge of the government so long as the time for redemption
was remote ; who derived every advantage from the pledge during
a period of great trial imposed upon the government by their
own action and in their interest, and who now ask the govern-
ment to withdraw from it ; but I will pause for a moment to
consider what the so-called Irish Tory party is and what title it
has to countenance from the government and the English Tories.

Putting aside the two members for Dublin University, the
Tories return only fourteen members for the whole country out
of a hundred and one. It is a mistake to suppose that one of
the most energetic supporters of Lord Salisbury from the North

* Since this article was written the British government has brbught in the bill it discusses.
From the opposition it has encountered it is plainly not what the writer hoped for. EDITOR.

834 IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. [Mar.,

of Ireland is a Tory. Mr. Russell is a Liberal Unionist, and is
very specially pledged to the support of a local government bill
so specially that he must vote against the government if they
refuse to introduce one assuming that honor has any binding
force upon a Liberal Unionist at all. The way the matter then
stands is : Are the English Tories justified in wrecking the future
of the party to maintain the policy of a wretched Irish clique
with no ability and little influence ?

But in fact those who are called Irish Tories are not Tories
in reality ; they are a party of revolution with a policy of
anarchy. They owe their origin to the Civil War of 1641 and
the Whig Revolution of 1688. They were the sectaries who
brought the sovereign to the scaffold and seized upon the reve-
nues of the church. For this treason and impiety they were re-
warded with estates in Ireland. They began as rebels and they
have remained rebels ever since. While the Tories in England
were distrusted by the court during the greater part of the
eighteenth century, the so-called Irish Tories were able to tram-
ple upon the rights of the great body of the Irish people. And
even when the English Tories were called to favor in the reign
of George III. the so-called Tories of Ireland continued in power
in that country. As they had not one common fortune so there
was not one principle in common between the two parties.

The first attack made upon the Irish Church Establishment
was made by Irish Tories as early as the reign of George II.
At a time when the English country gentleman was passionately
devoted to his church, his Irish brother looked upon the church
of Ireland as the old Cornish wreckers looked upon the fated
vessel running to the shore. The flotsam and jetsam were what
he looked for. The Lord Primate Boulter, in an official letter as
head of the Irish administration in the beginning of the reign of
George II., informs us that there was less regard for the decen-
cies of religion among the Irish squirearchy than among any set
of persons, Christian or heathen, that he ever heard of. They con-
trived to despoil the incumbencies so effectually that no man of
character could accept a country living. The result was that
debauched clergy were appointed, and frequently the patrons
provided for their servants by getting them ordained and pre-
senting them to benefices on condition that they would marry a
discarded mistress. At this very time the country gentlemen of
England were prepared to rise in arms to defend the immunities
of the church against the favorites and followers of the house
of Hanover.

1892.] IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. 835

We witness a similar contrast between the Irish and English
Tories with regard to the morality of alliances. In no instance
have English Tories favored sedition in the hope of embarrassing
their opponents. In Ireland the Tories have over and over
again joined the party they describe as disaffected, aye, and
urged them to overt acts against the authority of the crown.
There is reason to believe that they are pursuing the same tac-
tics now, in order to force the government to abandon the
policy of justice upon which it has entered.

It is" worth while to mention here that in its origin the Home-
Rule movement was essentially an Irish Tory movement. Out
of the sixty persons that formed the original committee of or-
ganization thirty-one were Tories. Their object in starting the
movement is not far to seek. They desired to prove to the two
great parties in England that it was in their power at any time
to raise the Irish question to dangerous proportions. The Eng-
lish Tories should be taught that the Irish wing of the party
should be respectfully treated ; the Whigs should be convinced
that unless the Irish Tories were permitted to rule the coun-
try in their own fashion, that they would make government
impossible. A party so utterly unprincipled should have no
place in politics. Their existence is a public scandal, and alliance
with them must necessarily be fatal to any party.

I do not rely upon casual aberrations from the path of party
loyalty. Whenever it suited the Tories of Ireland to desert their
English allies they have done so ; not merely this, but they have
violated every recognized principle of party warfare even to the
length of simulating patriotism which at other times they would
call treason. They have voted for rebels against Whigs in every
contest of this century when they were unable to put forward a
Tory candidate, and have afterwards prosecuted the same persons
for being rebels when association became embarrassing.

They joined O'Connell in 1845 to defeat Sir Robert Peel, and
joined the Young Irelanders in 1848 to intimidate Lord John
Russell. They opposed Sir Robert Peel's bill to increase the
grant to Maynooth ; they defended the grant to Maynooth in
1868 against Mr. Gladstone's Disestablishment- Act. Where were
their Tory principles in 1848, when they gave all their moral sup-
port to the secret societies of Europe? where, in 1859, when
they preferred Lord Palmerston's policy of sustaining the
assassins and revolutionists of Europe to Mr. Disraeli's policy of
observing the law of nations ? They have no title to be regarded

836 IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. [Mar.,

as Tories, and alliance with them is now, as always, a difficulty
and a danger to the party.

What principle do they possess in common with the party?
Their devotion to the church is not the same. Th s I have
shown. Their loyalty to the crown has been well expressed by
the Orange threat of kicking it into the Boyne. Their regard
for religious education is not the same, for they are secularists
almost to a man. They, and they alone, have maintained the
godless system of higher education which has done more than
anything else to alienate the Irish people from the queen and
constitution. For this they are responsible, as they are for what
the Tory party find so troublesome at present the Home-Rule
movement. I do not say that such a movement would not have
taken place sooner or later. The strength of the sentiment on
which it rests is proved by the very use which the Irish Tories
made of it ; but as they did so much in changing a sentiment
into an active force they should be compelled to pay the pen-
alty for all the embarrassment it has caused to the party.

Taking this view one can reasonably hold that ministers are
bound to proceed with their local government legislation without
regard to the threats of their Irish followers. When men sow
the wind they must expect to reap the whirlwind ; and if a local
government bill and a county administration bill should bring
disaster to the Irish Tories, they should be made to feel that
their assiduous cultivation deserved such a harvest.

But any one acquainted with the fiscal administration of Irish
counties can only wonder how reform has been so long delayed.
The Irish grand juries are the only public bodies which can tax
the people of the United Kingdom without the consent of the
tax-payers. The very considerable assessments raised twice a
year for all county works, from the repairing or making of a
road to the building of a jail or a court-house, are levied by
twenty-three gentlemen summoned by the high sheriff of the
county from a certain private list of persons called the grand
jurors of the county. These twenty-three gentlemen vote the
sums needed for hospitals, infirmaries, and industrial schools,
and they appoint the officers of these institutions. In a word,
the grand juries of the counties administer all the county finances,
except what is needed for the relief of the poor. But in their
capacity of ex-officio guardians of the poor they possess directly
half the voting power in the poor-law unions, and in their ca-
pacity of landlords they possess indirectly a good deal more

1892.] IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. 837

than half the voting power. That is to say, at poor-law elections
they can secure in many instances the return of their nominees
by proxy votes.

The grand-jury tax of Ireland is on an average about a
million and a half sterling a year. In voting this sum or admin-
istering it the tax-payers have not one shred, not one tittle of
influence. In the poor-law unions the men who are or may be
grand jurors have more than half the control. Therefore, the
Irish Tories enjoy the whole power and patronage in Irish local
government and taxation a state of affairs indefensible on the
bare statement of it.

I shall show how this works from one or two instances : A
personal friend of mine, when high sheriff, secured the election
of his brother to the most important and lucrative office in the
county by summoning a majority of grand jurors pledged to
vote for him. There might really be no* objection to this, only
that the grand jurors also constitute the grand inquest, whose
office it is to find bills of indictment. So that it is quite con-
ceivable that the high sheriff I refer to might have selected
persons very unfit to exercise the criminal jurisdiction of grand
jurors, but quite good enough to vote a friend into a snug place.
These gentlemen in their different counties have provided them-
selves with excellent dining-rooms and other adjuncts of a club
at the expense of the unrepresented rate-payers. This accommo-
dation is far better than that of the judges and the bar. So
admirable are these arrangements in the county of Derry that
another friend of mine, who resided usually in London, thought
it worth his while to come over to the assizes every spring and
every summer to enjoy them. He informed me that the aboli-
tion of the grand-jury system would sever his connection with
Ireland. And in such matters these men act with the most
perfect good faith. They are convinced that no other class is
entitled to the slightest consideration. For my part, I might be
sorry that they should' cease to consider themselves connected
with Ireland. At the same time a surrender of the rights and
interests of every rated occupier in the county would, I hum-
bly submit, be too great a price to pay for such an honor
from the descendants of the broken-down tapsters and trades-
men of London and Cromwell's God-fearing peasants from the
eastern counties of England. I cannot forget that early in the
present century Catholic gentlemen of ancient and high race
could only obtain the ordinary courtesies from these persons by
the horsewhip and the pistol.

838 IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. [Mar.,

But in the grand-jury " presentments " for malicious injury
to persons and property, the abnormal powers and privileges of
grand jurors are seen to the best advantage. I beg the reader's
attention for a moment while I try to put in a short compass
what this institution means. These gentlemen, selected in the
manner I have described, sit some days before the opening of
the Commission of Assize to deal with the wide range of
interests included in their powers. In a printed pamphlet
called the Book of Presentments all the works and applications
to be " presented " for are set out in numbered heads. When
the numbered heads or paragraphs are voted they are said
to be "presented," or passed, and become law for the county.*
The grand jury may limit or extend at pleasure the area upon
which the tax for any particular presentment is to be levied.
The sinister significance of this power with regard to present-
ments for malicious injuries will be appreciated by and by.

The power of the grand juries to " present " a sum as com
pensation for malicious injury to property is conferred by the
principal act, the 607 William IV., chapter 162 an act which
repeals the antecedent legislation, indeed, but which in some
subtle manner is informed by its spirit. Of this I shall say a
word presently. The acts which enable Irish grand juries to
present for malicious injury to the person are temporary acts
that is to say. acts limited to a certain period ; but as they are
usually renewed by Parliament they may be taken as an integral
part of the powers of the grand juries, and as such I propose to
treat them. *

Should a magistrate, bailiff, policeman, process-server, or other
officer of the law receive or pretend that he received a malicious
injury in the discharge of his duty, he is entitled to claim
compensation. In case of his death his next of kin are entitled
to do so. If any person whatever is injured through the action
of an agrarian or other criminal association, he is entitled to
claim, or in case of his death, his next erf kin. By the principal
act, as I have stated, any person whatever may claim compensation
for the malicious destruction of his house, offices, furniture, cattle,
corn, hay in a word, all property except growing crops or for
malicious injury to the same.

Assuming that the person claiming compensation for malicious

* Technically the presentments must be "fiated " by the judge on the day the commission
opens ; but this is quite as formal as the signature of royalty to a bill of Parliament unless
there was some irregularity or the matter was ultra vires.

1892.] IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. 839

injury to his property was antagonistic to the mass of the
people, and therefore a persona grata to the majority of the grand
jury, he would have little difficulty in obtaining compensation.
You have then a temptation to miscreants to injure or destroy
their property with the hope of obtaining a fancy price for it.
And certainly you have a temptation where the injury is acci-
dental to represent it as malicious.

It is quite conceivable that officers of the law and other
persons received compensation for personal injuries during the
land agitation, on account of the strained relations between the
class represented on the grand juries and the great mass of the
people, which they would not have received if the relations
were of a friendly character. The arbitrary and capricious man-
ner in which grand juries extended or limited the areas over
which the tax was to be levied in some of these cases would
warrant such an inference. The theory on which the power to
grant such compensation is based is, that the inhabitants know
the criminals and conceal them. This can be gathered from
the history of the previous and repeated legislation upon the
subject.

It is obvious, then, that if there be such criminal knowledge
and concealment, that they are confined to the persons of the
immediate locality. No one outside the locality would have an
interest in getting rid of a bailiff or process-server, a landlord
or a land agent. The wretched creatures harassed, plundered,
outraged, and oppressed by these persons would alone feel the
hatred or the fear that led to the act of vengeance or precaution.

Why then in certain cases should the taxation be extended
over a wide area? If there were a doubt of the justice of
the presentment, by extending it over a wide area the grand
jurors would put a salve upon their conscience. It will not be
much for each to pay, and the poor devil or his family will get
something handsome, these gentlemen would say, as they dipped
their hands in the pockets of the rate-payers. I think, therefore,
that any party, Whig or Tory, which honestly proposes to ter-
minate such a system is entitled to support in doing so. It is
the evil legacy of evil days, and crystallizes, as it were, the worst
features of confiscation and resettlement -as the bases of
society. It has been already stated that the act of William IV.
governs the whole proceedings now. But reading that statute,
no one could conceive what a baleful history underlies it, or
what grand juries could do in the last century. You must go to

840 IRISH TORIES AND IRISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. [Mar.,

the preceding statutes for that purpose. It is in them you find
the terrible safeguards which fenced alien settlers among a
population whom they feared and hated ; in them you find
the Catholic freeholder and rate-payer, and them alone, liable
to be taxed for every real or imaginary injury for which these
insolent strangers might think fit to claim compensation. In
them you find the power to " present " sums for the capture
of outlaws guilty of being Catholics, or of being loyal to
their exiled sovereign ; in them you find the power to " pre-
sent " men by name as outlaws if they were suspected of
being Catholics or Jacobites. This meant the power of send-
ing them on board the fleet, or sending them as white slaves
to the settlements of North America. These acts are now
known only to a few students, but their spirit lives in the pres-
ent grand-jury system of Ireland. It is no wonder, then, that the
Irish Tories should resent the intention of the party in England
to introduce measures that must pull them down from their old
monopoly of privilege and power. That resentment should be
to every friend of justice the strongest proof that the govern-
ment is acting wisely in this matter.

I hope that, undismayed by these threats, it will complete the
doom begun by the purchase act and carried so far by the act
for the sale and transfer of land.

GEORGE MCDERMOT.

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 841

MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING.
(CONCLUSION.)

II. THERE is no need, and it would be of little interest,
both at the date at which this memorial-sketch is written, and
also to the readers of it hereafter, to trace the extent to which
Archdeacon Manning left his mark upon and rose to eminence
in the heretical and schismatic body known as the Anglican
Communion. But, it is well to place upon record this fact, if
only to afford evidence that he possessed an element, though one
of not much weight, which tended in his case towards greatness
of character. There is no doubt that the archdeacon had be-
come a power, and was acknowledged as an influence, if not
as an authority which had to be reckoned with, in the Estab-
lished Religion, at the time of his secession. He was intimately
connected with and related to men of mark, of his day, both in
church and state, by marriage and by friendship. He was a
trusted and trustworthy guide and leader amongst the Upper-
ten-thousand thirty years ago, specially in those semi-social and
semi-devotional and wholly unscientific cases of conscience which
agitated that class of society in the last generation. And he
enjoyed the confidence and commanded the respect of the leading
English statesmen of the day, specially of some who, since that
date, have reached the very highest summit of political power in
Great Britain. His career in the Anglican Establishment, though
comparatively short, was exceptionally brilliant brilliant, not so
much for the worldly honors which were thrust upon him, as
for the moral position to which he rose so speedily in the opin-
ion and estimation of the " religious world " of the era. His
Protestant career, however, proved but a foreshadow in perspec-
tive and a type foreshortened of the still broader, deeper, and
clearer mark which Archbishop Manning has permanently left
on the Catholic Church in England ; and of the still more exalt-
ed position to which he rose even to the highest ecclesiastical
dignity, save one, in Christendom.

Such a divine ending, from such a human origin, is probably
unique in the history of the church of God, at least, since the
time when Saul, the Pharisee and persecutor though the Cardi-
nal was neither persecutor nor Pharisee became Paul, the Apos-
tle, Martyr, and Saint. It is unique in this way : that an ac-
VOL. LIV. 54

842 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

knowledged leader and teacher of a non-Catholic body, after
making humble submission to the Truth and seeking asylum in
the Fold, should rise with such rapidity and should thereafter so
fully justify his rapid rise to the Cardinalate of the Holy Roman
Church by the steps of the Archiepiscopal throne of Westminster.
Yet such was the Cardinal's career. And viewed from a worldly
stand-point, two such unusual successes in life, from such differ-
ent points of the theological compass, in a Protestant com-
munion and in the Catholic Church success comparative and
potential in the one case, and actual and historic in the other
could not have been achieved by any but by a great man.

Two points in the Cardinal's career may here be lightly
touched upon, more for what they may incidentally suggest than
for what they may directly disclose. One concerns the changes
which he wrought in the outward aspect and inner development
of the Catholic Church in England. The other relates to the
succession to the office which gave him the power to produce
such results.

Meanwhile, before Dr. Manning had attained to his ultimate
ecclesiastical position in the Holy Roman Church, he left one
record of himself in the history of the Catholic revival in Eng-
land, which to many very near and very dear to him, is, per-
haps, not the least claim he possessed upon the affection and
esteem of his intimates. Nor is it unlikely, that the qualities
which he then and afterwards displayed, pointed out the future
Archbishop of Westminster as a competent and able ruler of
men. In any case, he introduced into England the Oblates of
St. Charles Borromeo, and built the first church and priests'
house of the congregation, under the dedication of St. Mary of
the Angels, at Bayswater, London. But this was not all. He
did more, as the Superior of the Oblates, by the hands of an-
other. His nephew, the zealous, pious, and charming Monsignor
Manning (may he rest in peace !), in many ways his uncle's sec-
ond self, though not equally gifted with his greater relation,
founded and built with the co-operation of the future Cardinal,
and, for all too short a time as rector, governed the neighboring
College of St. Charles, for the education and training of the sons
of the upper orders and middle classes. These two foundations
are two only out of many, and though, perhaps, nearest to his
own heart, not the greatest, nor the most important for the fu-
ture of religion in this country, which owe their inception to the
will, and owe their completion to the perseverance, of the Cardi-
nal Archbishop.

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 843

Of other foundations this is not the place to speak at length ;
nor, indeed, does space at disposal admit of a statement of the
Cardinal's works of mercy, if the expression may be allowed, in
brick and mortar, for rich and poor alike. It would be, how-
ever, unpardonable not to allude to them. Many are they which
distinguish and illuminate his spiritual reign of which he was
either originator, or suggester, or coadjutor with others, or
sole creator and benefactor homes and refuges, schools and
convents, seminaries and colleges, training-colleges for school-
teachers, houses of mercy and houses of retreat, orphanages and
homes for destitute and forsaken children.

Into- the history of his elevation to the archiepiscopal seat of
Westminster, it is not my intention to enter if only for the
best of reasons, namely, that I am unconscious of the facts of
the case, and that I am, and probably most laymen are, power-
less to obtain the true history of it. His elevation formed a
fruitful source of gratuitous comment from those, probably, who
knew least of the. circumstances of the case, and certainly who
knew nothing of the reasons which guided its decision anony-
mous writers in the Protestant press. It gave occasion, also,
with a greater show of reason, to a certain amount of criticism
Trom those who were the most deeply concerned in the wisdom,
or in the unwisdom, of the choice. Suffice it to say, that Dr.
Manning was placed, though not locally at Canterbury, in the
chair of St. Augustine by the exercise of identically the same
power which St. Gregory the Great wielded thirteen centuries
previously, and practically by the like means. He was delegated
by the direct nomination of the Supreme Pontiff of revered
memory, Pius IX. : and the Archbishop of Westminster lived to
rule the diocese, and the church of which it now forms the
primatial see, sufficiently long to do more than justify the judg-
ment of that shrewd and clever Pope in the selection he had
made. In all probability, history will ratify the discretion of
the choice of Pio Nono for the second occupant of the restored
throne of Augustine. History, also, will possibly confirm the
truth of at least one of the members of a three-fold "and modern
oracular pronouncement. The prophecy, so to call it, half-record
and half-prediction of an intelligent observer of the signs of
the times, is to the following effect : that the first three occu-
pants of the archiepiscopal seat of the revived hierarchy of Eng-
land shall, each in his order, and after his power, advance the
cause of Holy Church in his own special department and line.
The first of the three prelates shall advance the sacred cause of

844 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

religion in England in the way of theological science, dogmatic
truth, ceremonial pomp, and ecclesiastical dignity. Here the ora-
cle spoke words of history in regard to Cardinal Wiseman.
The last of the three prelates, continues the legend, shall com-
plete the holy work of laying again the foundation of true re-
ligion in this Protestant country, for the nation at large, by win-
ning over and bringing under the mild yoke of Christ the most
intractable and most difficult of all orders or classes of English
society to manipulate or to influence. This division of English
society is the great middle class, the class to which mainly for
the past half-century the larger part of political power has been
entrusted, when freed from the grasp of the upper orders, but
from which it has now passed to the democracy. It includes,
amongst other members, the shop-keeper, the educated mechanic
and artisan, the mill-hand, the domestic servant, and the city
clerk and man of business. Complete the work, I say ; for does
not another and older prophecy declare of the good work begun
half a century ago, that although the holy Mass was abolished
in the days of Edward VI. it will, in the divine appointment,
and whatsoever the phrase may import, be restored in the reign
of the next prince of the same name, King Edward VII. ?
This, of course, is at present but unfulfilled prophecy : yet, the
heir-apparent to the crown of Great Britain and Ireland was
christened Albert Edward ; he would (if he ever does) ascend
the throne as the seventh prince of his second name ; and events
do not look very unfavorably for some mystical, if not literal,
fulfilment of the old hope. So also is the prophecy of the
third archbishop unfulfilled and long may it be so, is my prayer
at the date of writing these words no name, therefore, can be
attached to it, though men's eyes are turned in the direction
where it is as likely to become as true a forecast as the other
two are true retrospects. Whilst, of the second archbishop of
the selected three, the Cardinal of whom we are thinking, the
oracle declares that he will principally do the work of Christ in
our unhappy Protestant land, in the way of attracting to the
Church, with a singular and hitherto unprecedented success, both
the classes and the masses ; the intelligence, culture, and self-
sacrifice of the powerful, of the educated, of the rich, and the
devotion, vigor, and determination of the socially humble, the
politically strong, and the actually poor. This, in brief, is not
otherwise than a description which well befits the character and
work of Cardinal Manning.

III. The last evidence of greatness which adheres to the Car-

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 845

dinal's character, and which will here be noted, is the most diffi-
cult to treat at all, and is the most difficult to treat shortly.
It has been described above to this effect, namely, that he
raised the communion he ruled, for so long a period, to a
position which it had never previously occupied in England
since the faith of the Catholic Church ceased to be the
religion of the country. Now, there are at least two ways in
which proofs of this change in the position of the Catholic
Church in England may be submitted for consideration. Appeal
can be made, with overpowering conclusiveness, to facts and fig-
ures, and inevitable deductions from them both, in order to show
to how large an extent the outward development and organiza-
tion of the Church has reached, under the energetic rule, yet
temperate sway, of Cardinal Manning. This expansion, in every
single way in which outward growth can be estimated whether
in the numbers of churches and missions, or in the increase of
the clergy ; whether in the foundation of religious houses for
men and women, or in the multiplication of almost endless
works of mercy ; whether in the statistics of education, or in the
steady, regular, and unfailing influx of converts into the Church
during the last generation of men, has been more than marvel-
lous, has been supernatural. No doubt, there may be many ex-
planations given of these latter-day wonders of the Catholic
religion in this Protestant land. Tyranny and persecution abroad,
distress and misgovernment in the sister kingdom, and the con-
sequent emigration of priests and people both from the Continent
and from Ireland, may account for a part of this result. A not
unnatural wish to return to the religion of their forefathers, a
religion which witnessed some of England's brightest and most
blessed days ; and a wide-spread, if sometimes vague and inade-
quate realization of the emptiness, inanity, and baselessness of
popular Protestantism may account for another portion. But no
sentiment, no argument can explain away these figures and these
facts ; which, however, will be left for clearer heads and abler
hands to classify and publish. In the meantime, there is another,
less direct and more subtle, proof to which I would venture to
draw attention. This is a proof which cannot be tabulated, and
sometimes can hardly be even definitely expressed ; but which
may be felt, and which is widely accepted and acted on at the
present time in England. I allude to the intangible extension of
the influence and power of the Church in this land of non-Catho-
lic, if not anti-Catholic feeling, thought, and speech, which is due
to a large degree, though not entirely, to the deliberate but often

846 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

indirect efforts of Dr. Manning. And herein, the genius denied
him in some ways in which the world looks for evidence of
genius, but which entitles the Cardinal to be held as a great man,
pre-eminently shone forth. For his genius, in such relations, con-
sisted in this that, as if he had no other object in life, as if he
had no other work to do, and as if he had not had imposed
upon him " the care of all the churches," he dedicated himself,
it appeared, exclusively, to this special labor, viz., to raise the
prestige, the importance, the influence, the power of the Divine
Religion into which in mature age he had been called, to the
level on which, by its own inherent merits and for the benefits
it has secured for humanity, it ought to stand in this country.

A few thoughts of a retrospective character will make the force
of these remarks the more plain to the transatlantic reader.

The relations which existed between the Catholic Church and
the vast bulk of the Protestant people of England, some five-and-
thirty, or forty years ago, were undergoing a great, a note-wor-
thy, and, probably, a permanent change. Various and different
causes combined to create this change. In the first place, an
atmosphere of toleration in general was silently stealing over the
not very tender, and the rather torpid conscience of the country,
on its religious side. This toleration was, as a fact, not directed
alone towards Catholics. It was extended, with a sort of stolid
indifference, to the professors and to the non-professors alike of
every form of opinion, rational or irrational, as well as to the
upholders of the one true belief, which was opposed to and was
opposed by all other denominations of Christians. This toleration
of Catholicism was chiefly due to three causes, two of a positive,
and one of a negative character. The last, or the negative cause,
has been already indicated, and may be expressed by a single
word, indifferentism, as existing in modern English society. The
first, or the positive causes, deserve a less summary treatment.
Of these, toleration was due, primarily, to the return swing of
the long, heavy pendulum oT public opinion, from the opposite
extreme to which it had been forced by the wild outbreak
of Protestant bigotry and terror, occasioned by the so-called
Papal Aggression of 1850. Toleration was due, also, and in a
lesser degree to certain facts in connection with the more im-
portant and epoch-making " secessions to Rome " from the Es-
tablished Religion. These facts were commonplaces a genera-
tion gone, though they may be taken as somewhat ancient history
now. But, what men felt then was substantially this that these
important and damaging secessions had taken place, and were

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 847

past and gone. Men gratulated with themselves, that these se-
cessions could not be repeated, at least in kind ; for, we remem-
ber now and they knew then, that there were no more notable
or first-class Oxford leaders, with at most half-a-dozen excep-
tions, left within the High Church ranks, which at once created
and supplied the more eminent recruits to "Rome, who, in the nature
of things, either could, or would, secede. Indeed, though still
alarmed and somewhat humbled, the religious world breathed
more freely. It was reassured by the anti-Roman denunciations
on the one hand, and by the vows of pro-Protestant loyalty on
the other, and both on the part of those High Churchmen who
had not seceded ; and it fancied itself conscious of the worst
that could happen to itself Romeward. It could estimate its
losses, which from a numerical calculation and in proportion to
the millions who had not passed the theological Rubicon, were
insignificant even when told by thousands ; it could invent or
take measures to prevent the like calamitous reversals in the
future ; and it could afford, with more or less of conscientious-
ness, to be tolerant even to Rome.

Moreover, the party in the Church of England which in
mere externals most nearly approximates to the feared and
hated Church of Rome, though in principle equally far with,
and in consistency further than, its Protestant neighbors from
true Catholicity, must be noted. Their action was such that
Catholic practices, and thereby incidentally Catholic principles,
became, not only to the eye and ear of the nation, but also to
the nation's ill-instructed conscience, less than formerly unusual,
extravagant, and offensive, though not one whit more popular to
the mass of the nation, as practices or principles to adopt, or to
surfer for. What may have been the inner cause of this outward
growth of a toleration which, however much we "may benefit by
it, or rather cease to suffer from the influence of its opposite,
can only be considered as a spurious toleration, towards Catholi-
cism, it is not easy to decide. For, Ritualism, pure and simple,
it must be remembered, was popularly held, and with justice, to be
a bad and even a dishonest imitation of Rome ; and hence, no ar-
gument can be allowed, on behalf of the Church, from the asserted
popularity, even on a very limited scale, of that hybrid and in-
consequential system. From a single possible cause, only, tolera-
tion of Catholics could not have arisen if it be not a truism to
say so and that is, from the possession of the one faith which
alone can inspire true toleration. For Protestant England does
not believe and does not profess to believe, indeed professes

848 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

not to believe in any one sole faith ; but rather, believes in many.
But, the toleration from which the Church benefited may have
arisen either from more or less devotion to religion in the ab-
stract, which would charitably overlook differences of opinion ;
or, from a wide-reaching Agnosticism, in a literal sense of the
term, and from a real' ignorance of all religious systems which
would ignore all differences as theologically immaterial ; or again,
from a genuine love, partly political, partly religious, of freedom
of opinion, and respect for the rights of private judgment as ap-
plied even to others. In any case, the English nation, as a
whole and of late years, had become more tolerant of diver-
gences from its own low standard, or more truly, from its want
of any standard of religious belief and practice, in the direction
of dogmatic teaching founded on infallible authority, and liturgi-
cal ceremonial based on the custom of ages. As a result,
amongst other dissentients from the legal communion of the
Anglican Establishment, even Roman Catholicism found an
amount of toleration unexpectedly yielded to its divine claims.
And it was at the outset of this new-born and by no means
matured spirit of Anglican toleration, on the part of the Church's
bitterest and in some ways most powerful opponent, that the
career of the Cardinal Archbishop, as a convert to the faith of
Rome, was begun.

Such, in outline, were some external relations with which the
Church in England found herself brought into contact, somewhat
more than a generation ago. What were the means adopted by
the new Archbishop, when he reached the place of authority and
when the new-found toleration had become assured from the
lapse of time, to utilize this fresh departure in Protestantism for
the benefit of the Faith ? In the face of these more auspicious
relations between antagonists of centuries, what line did he take,
in order to raise the communion over which he had been called
to preside, to a position somewhat totally less different from the
divine part she had enacted in this kingdom previously to the
Reformation? The more obvious, natural, and public means
which Dr. Manning took to this end, may fairly be left for re-
cord to those who undertake to write a formal biography of the
Cardinal. I am content to be allowed to draw special attention
to the indirect and incidental efforts, which year after year, and
almost day by day, were adopted by him to fulfil his purpose.
In effect, and to speak broadly, these efforts were as follows :
Over and above the official and ecclesiastical action taken by the
Archbishop to advance what may be called the national interests

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 849

of the Catholic Church in Protestant England, he seldom or
never neglected to take advantage of any opportunity in secular
affairs to silently advocate her claims first to sufferance, next to
attention and discussion, lastly to authority and obedience. This
line he adopted, whether consciously or not and I believe he
consciously adopted this line by word, by action, and by man-
ner, as if the divine claims of Holy Church required only to be
presented to the world at large, or to the English nation in
particular, in order to secure for them immediate and hearty
acceptance. He seemed to believe and did believe, and he ever
acted as if he were convinced, that persons with whom he was
thrown into contact in the endless relations of public and private
life which his position created for him, that persons (I say) who
really were anxious not to acknowledge the claims of Rome,
were only waiting for an occasion or an opening to do them
honor, or at least to avoid slighting them. Neither, on the princi-
ples of Grace and the revealed will of God, was the Archbishop
in error. Indeed, he might even be accused, however unjustly,
of making opportunities which were not obviously offered, to
place himself in touch, and through himself to place the body he
ruled in touch, with all sorts and conditions of Englishmen.
And this he did without a thought of self-seeking to cloud the
purity of his intention for, had he not voluntarily resigned all
that England could give ? had he not forced upon him from
without more than England could take away ? Indeed he might
often be seen repressing marks of respect personal to himself,
when indirectly advocating in action respect to the supernatural
communion of which he was the earthly representative.

Of this action on the part of the Cardinal I will give a few
instances in several different relations of life ; and the number
could be increased without difficulty. To advance the cause and
to accomplish the end above indicated, his Eminence might be
seen, at the height of the London season, at the invitation of the
Prince and Princess of Wales, amongst the elite of the nobility
of Great Britain, apparently enjoying himself, and certainly not
avowedly advancing his sacred purpose in high quarters, at an
afternoon garden-party at Marlborough House. For the same
cause and to the like end, the Cardinal was to be seen, in the
best sense of the word, fraternizing with the English and Irish
masses, as the head, and not only as the head, but as the soul
also, of the philanthropic movement known in England as the
Catholic Temperance League of the Cross. He would mingle with
the tens of thousands of its members, or of its sympathizers, at their

850 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

annual gathering in Hyde Park, or at the Crystal Palace, or at their
minor meetings in that quondam stronghold of London Protes-
tantism, Exeter Hall and would thus indicate practically that
not only in the Catholic Church may fraternity be found, but
also, in a Christian manner, liberty also and equality. For the
same cause, again, does his name appear (unless I mistake) next
after that of a Prince of the Blood, or the Archbishop of Can-
terbury (the first subject of the realm), on the roll of the great
Mansion House Committee for ameliorating the condition of the
poor, especially by improving their dwelling-houses ; and to the
like end, his name is officially placed next after that of the
chairman, and before that of the Protestant Bishop of the dio-
cese, on the list of members of a Royal Commission of inquiry
into the condition and prospects of National Education. Nor
does popular opinion it may be parenthetically remarked fail
to recognize the efforts made by the Cardinal to identify him-
self with the interests of the English people, and thus to inter-
est the people in the advancement of the Church. This has
lately been evidenced on two occasions. On the first, when it
was popularly supposed that a Conservative government was
about to bring into Parliament a bill to legalize the creation
of Life Peerages, the name of the Cardinal Archbishop was the
very first that was publicly suggested as specially deserving of
this title of honor. And, again, when a plebiscite was taken by
a popular Liberal evening newspaper, amongst its readers, of the
men who would make ideal " County Councillors " for London,
under the new Local Government Act, and in view of the ap-
proaching election (which was the first) in the metropolis, the
votes of those who responded to the editorial invitation placed
the name of Dr. Manning amongst the first ten of those to whom
this mark of distinction and tribute of confidence ought to be
accorded the Bishop of London, as he was there said to be in
reality, though not according to law.

To the same end, again, the Cardinal was accustomed to
utilize private social calls and claims, and semi-public duties and
engagements of daily life, on behalf of the interests of our
Mother Church in England. For instance, to quote some in-
significant cases, or cases which would be insignificant, if they
were not part and parcel, as I hold them to be, of a well-con-
sidered and of a well-executed tactical plan for the moral re-
subjugation of Protestant England to the beneficent rule of Rome
in matters spiritual. For example : He was wont to drop in of
an afternoon (so to say, in his recreation time) at his own club,

1892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 51

the Athenaeum Club, Pall Mall, which is the daily resort of the
foremost men of letters, science, and intellect of the day with
others in England. He would dine (probably at his usual
supper-hour, on a few biscuits and a glass of toast-and-water, as
I can bear witness on one occasion, in the place of wine) at a
house-dinner of another West End Club, given in order to ad-
vocate the cause of the federation of this mighty empire of
England and of its population of about one-fourth part of the
human race. For the same great cause named above, years ago
and long before the idea became less unpopular than now, he
supported the incipient and strictly constitutional agitation of
the British laborer for some alleviation of his hard, stern lot, un-
derfed as he was allowed to be, and overworked, and little
taught, and badly clothed, and often miserably lodged, and al-
together treated as if he were scarcely a human being, created in
God's image and made after his likeness. And the Cardinal took
this line about the same time, whether before or after, it matters
not and I cannot tell, that a Protestant Bishop of the Establish-
ment in a western diocese (still living in 1888) in relation to the
same social question, was publicly advising his hearers, on a cer-
tain occasion, not to throw Mr. Arch, the laborer's friend and
leader of the movement, into the village horse-pond. For simi-
lar purposes, Dr. Manning frequently attended the meetings of
the now historical Metaphysical Society in London ; and he sys-
tematically opened the doors of the Archbishop's House, West-
minster, once a month during the season, to any Protestant who
was sufficiently interested to attend the like yet different meet-
ings of the still flourishing Catholic Academia. For similar pur-
poses, again, not unmixed with charitable instincts, his Eminence
gave his support and aid to those who live one of the many
hard, precarious lives amongst the ordinary employments of men
in London, namely, the cab-drivers. The same support, whatso-
ever it was worth, he freely gave to another class of London
men and women, whose lot, though less hard and precarious, from
exposure, weather, and uncertain employment, still needs much
amelioration, namely, servers behind the counter and assistants
in shops. Whilst, perhaps, a more noteworthy instance of his in-
domitable determination that the Catholic Church should not be
ignored or overlooked in England, remains to be recorded, in his
official and political action as the accredited spokesman of that
Church on two several occasions. The first of these was the in-
troduction of the Abolition of Oaths Bill into Parliament : the
second was one of many times in which has been debated in the

852 MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. [Mar.,

House of Commons the bill for legalizing in England marriage
with a deceased wife's sister. On both occasions, the Cardinal
delivered himself, as critic and censor of public morals, in a man-
ner not unworthy of his high position : and on the former of
them he joined with his fourteen comprovincial bishops of the
Catholic hierarchy in giving utterance to a public protest, on
April 12, 1888, in which he and they declare of the Optional
Oaths Bill, that "to efface the recognition of God in our public
legislation is an act which will surely bring evil consequences."
In the usual course of events, such a national protest would
have originated with, and emanated from, the official guardians
of the state religion of England, the Protestant Episcopate, not
from the rulers of a small non-conforming body, albeit that body
was the Catholic Church.

Nor does this short statement exhaust the catalogue of in-
stances which illustrate and prove the estimate here formed of
the purpose and intention of Cardinal Manning in the matter
under discussion. I feel sure that my memory has failed to re-
call one-half the efforts which he has indirectly but effectively
made for the Catholic Church in this direction. Suffice it to
say, in conclusion, that no object was too high, no cause was
too lowly, to attract his watchful attention, provided not only
that the matter of it commanded his approval in the abstract
an approval not difficult to secure for anything worthy of it but
also that, in the concrete and by his action upon it, he was
enabled to bring the Church of Christ into official connection
(which at least presupposed equality) with a Protestant nation ;
and to bring individuals of a Protestant communion into rela-
tions (which implied reciprocal obligations) with the bulk of their
Catholic fellow-countrymen. Moreover, by such means, he strove
to advance the true interests of the Church, by proving to all
whom it concerned, and they were all with whom he was brought
into contact, that he himself, as the local head of the Church;
and, through him, his subjects, as the body of the Church, were,
of course, Catholics first and foremost, but were Englishmen
afterwards and to the backbone. The man, be he ecclesiastic or
layman, who deliberately aimed at making such a revolution in
public opinion in England ; and who, to an extent which,
though obvious, the future will alone be capable of gauging, suc-
ceeded in revolutionizing public opinion in England on this very
delicate question between Protestantism and Catholicism, cer-
tainly deserves the title of Great.

:892.] MEMORIAL-SKETCH OF CARDINAL MANNING. 853

This short Memorial-Sketch of the Great Cardinal may fitly
end here, although no logical cause suggests an ending. The
sketch was not intended to be a panegyric of Dr. Manning ; and
hence, the facts described, and the impression left upon the
memory of the narrator of them, have been left to speak for
themselves. The memorial was not meant to be a critical esti-
mate of his character ; and therefore it has not seemed neces-
sary to the writer to discuss his failings or to proclaim his faults,
always supposing that the writer was capable to perform such a
task. Fortunately, the need of sounding the Cardinal's praises,
or of exhibiting anything worthy of blame, has not been required
in a Memorial-Sketch. All that has here been placed on record is
the result of personal observation, of memory, and of thought.
Advisedly, neither book, nor paper, has been consulted during its
composition, or with a view to it. The Cardinal was a man
whose career no intelligent person could follow without being
impressed with much that he witnessed. He was one who at-
tached to himself the deepest and firmest friendship of those
who respected and loved him. I have endeavored to repeat
some things in his story which specially commended themselves
to my mind : and I have committed them to paper, with many
imperfections which I am sure he would pardon if he could, as
one who was ever allowed to subscribe himself, as he does now
with infinite respect, his Eminence's affectionate

Son and Servant,

ORBY SHIPLEY.

Lyme Regis, Dorset, England.

854 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

THE BIG BOSS'S PARADE.

A SHUDDERING roar, the roar increasing in volume, the shud-
ders quickening to a terrific degree ; then a slackening and a
diminishing. All is over in nine seconds : the huge, shiny wheel
in the engine-house has unwound its six hundred feet of chain ;
the descending carriage has fallen to the bottom ; the ascending
one is at the surface, laden with a dozen coaly-black creatures,
who step off briskly, their eyes blinking at the broad afternoon
light. The engine, after a few moments for rest, is again at-
tacked by a fit of hard breathing, and in nine seconds more
will have landed from the depths another load of miners.

Each man as he leaves the lift goes straightway and scruti-
nizes a paper pinned up outside of the office, containing the
mine report for the month. Quite a crowd had gathered here
before anybody noticed a paper on the opposite side of the door.

" What's that ? " exclaimed several at once, and pressed
against each other for a better view. " Johnny Phinn, do ye
read it to us," called some one at the outer edge of the group.

Johnny, who stood vis-a-vis with the closely-written sheet,
pushed back his cap, crooked his elbows thus clearing a space
on either side of him thrust out his chin, and opened his
mouth. The crowd waited.

" Hurry up, Johnny ; what does the dockiment say fer itself ?"

" Well, it'd ta-ake a priest to tell wut it sayes ; the writin's
too shtylish fer me," said Johnny.

Just then the engine went through one of its periodic
spasms, and, with an expense of energy that seemed sufficient to
dredge out the very bowels of the earth, hauled up a fresh
party of men, who at once joined the others in front of the
office.

Among them was an unusually tall fellow, whose straight,
yellow hair, retaining only the slightest powdering of coal-dust,
hung with odd effect about his blackened face. Immediately
broke forth shouts of " Here's Tom Lunday !" lf Tom's the boss
reader ! " " Make way fer Tom to go up head ! " " Johnny '11
have the bad marks 'cause he don't know his lesson good " ; and
in another moment Mr. Phinn had been whisked out of his posi-
tion, while Mr. Lunday was pushed, unresisting, into the vacated
spot.

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 855

He did not strike an attitude, but running his eye down to
the bottom of the paper announced simply, in a clear voice :
"This here's a proclamation by the Big Boss," and began to
read.

"To THE EMPLOYEES OF THE ROSEMILY:"

(" That's us," put in Johnny Phinn, not at all humiliated by
his deposition.)

" Seeing that his Excellency, the President of the United
States, will shortly honor this portion of the Anthracite Regions
by spending the coming Fourth of July in the neighboring city

of , it is the desire of the undersigned, as owner and

manager of one of the most important coal properties in the
district, to show his individual appreciation of the distinction
about to be conferred by our chief Executive ; and in order
that he may do this in the most effective way possible, he asks
the co-operation of the whole c-co-c-o-r-p-s " ^Corpse!" pro-
nounced Tom. "Hey, what's this? 'Tain't dead men he wants,
is it ? " he asked, turning round to his companions. " Leave off
the last two letters," suggested the mine-boss, an intelligent
Welshman, who stood in the doorway watching the crowd curi-
ously. Tom sailed on) " of the whole corps of workers in the
Rosemily mine and breaker.

" It is proposed that said workers, being nearly eight hundred
in number, form a regiment and join the procession of militia
to meet the President at the station and conduct him through
the principal streets of the city to his hotel.

" It is believed that this proposition will meet the approval of
you all, appealing, as it does, to your loyalty as American Citi-
zens, though natives of many lands.

" Moreover, it is the wish of the undersigned that the Ros-
emily Regiment appear in full uniform the uniform of your
profession ; in other words, your every-day working clothes, each
grade of workers carrying, in place of the soldier's gun, the
special implement of their department. Thus will be presented
to the eyes of the presidential party a uniky specticle
(" Unique," prompted Owen Owens, the mine-boss) " unique
spectacle," continued Tom, "at the same time giving evidence
of the loyalty of sentiment that exists among the mining class
toward the Representative of this Great Government.

"All are requested to be present on the Common by the
South Pool on Sunday afternoon at four o'clock, to receive
necessary directions and to go through a preparatory drill. The
boys including drivers, door-tenders, and slate-pickers will
assemble on the base-ball grounds back of the oil-house at same
hour.

" Signed : . LEROY HENDERSON."

An inarticulate sound of displeasure went through the body
of men when Tom had finished reading.

856 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

" Is ut annything ails the Big Boss that he wants to make
fools of us all?" demanded Johnny Phinn. " Niver a wan
shtep '11 I go, or his R'yal Highness the Pres'dent '11 be exshpec-
tin' me to drop him me car-rd to suppor-rt him in his next
election, an', b' the saints, I'll not do ut ! "

" I reckon we '11 not get out o' marchin' so easy," muttered
an old miner named Kelly. He had worked fifteen years in the
Rosemily and knew the ways of "the Big Boss" thoroughly.

" I reckon so, too," said Owen Owens drily from the door-
step.

"And what do you know about it?" sang out the crowd in
one voice.

" I know enough, sure" ; and Owen Owens withdrew into the
office, taking with him unknown quantities of information.

" I'll not vote for him nor I'll not parade to him," asseve-
rated Johnny, and, as a large part of the men were of his
nationality, so also did they share his sentiments.

" What's got into the Big Boss?" asked Tom Lunday of
Owens after the crowd had dispersed.

Owens rubbed the red stubble on his chin with the back of
his dingy wrist. " I'll tell you," said he. " Politics has got into
him."

" Uh-huh ! " aspirated Tom.

Both the men were silent for a time ; then Owens went on :
"You know he's had his finger in it some already, but he wants
to get his whole fist in. They say he's asked more favors of
the legislature than any man in the State, and now he's got the
biggest favor of all to ask."

" What's that ? "

" He's tired of making laws up here for the Rosemily ; he
wants to be making them down in Washington."

Tom looked a little puzzled. " He means to run for United
States senator," added Owens.

" Oh-h ! an' so he's for gettin' on the right side o' the Presi-
dent, is he?"

" No, man, the President's got nothin' to do with it ; it's the
State legislature. It'll sound well, you know, when people say
that Mr. Leroy Henderson has so much influence that every
man that works for him goes with him in his opinions. That's
why he's for making such a big show on the Fourth. And
what's more " Owens walked to the door, looked about, came
back, and, standing close to Tom, said in a lower tone : " No-
body told me this, but all of you that knows which side of

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 857

your bread the butter's on had better do what Mr. Henderson
says."

" Is that so?" said Tom. Owens replied by scratching his
beard and screwing up his mouth.

" Do ye think there '11 be much of a turnout?" asked Tom
presently. Owens shrugged one shoulder.

"Them that's got the least sense and them that's got the
most '11 take up arms and march ; the rest '11 kick and stay at
home. Then after a while not too soon, you know there '11
be some vacancies to fill in the Rosemily. But they '11 be fools
that lose a good place. Where else will you go to find a mine
that's got no gas in it and that's so well taken care of ?
Where's the company that furnishes its men such good houses ?
One man's better than a company, / say."

" Did ye think I'd be a kicker ? I'm one o' thim as is well
satisfied," said Tom.

" I know it ; you've got good sense ; that's the reason I talk
to you this way. There's not many of them I'd try to make
comprehend the whole of the matter, but it's only fair I should
give a hint around that they'd best join the parade. Mr. Hen-
derson talked to me pretty plain as plain as a man can be and
yet not say a thing out."

Tom rose to go. " I don't feel like Johnny Phinn does,"
said he ; " you'd think him an' his set was born Americans when
you hear 'em talk about their votes. I'd be willin' enough to pa-
rade to please the Big Boss only for me head."

" Put your head in your pocket," said Owens in a careless
tone, making a feint of looking over some papers that lay on
the table.

Tom was just going out of the door when Owens called him
back. " See here," said he seriously, " I meant what I said :
put your head in your pocket do you understand ?"

Tom gave him a sharp look. " You said already you didn't
count me among the kickin' ones."

" I know I did, but I thought you were lifting your hind
leg a little too high just now. It'll have a bad effect on the
rest if you back out."

" None o' your blarney," said Tom.

" I'm not blarneying ; it's the truth, and you know it."

" Well, I'll see," and Tom began to move off slowly.

" Mind you see straight," called out Owens after him.

The Rosemily breaker, a noble iron structure, blocked one
VOL. LIV. 55

858 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

end of the main street of the mining village. On this street
were two rows of single cottages built in a substantial manner
and on a somewhat generous plan by Mr. Henderson for the
better class of his employees. Each man was at liberty to buy
the house he lived in, and a number had taken advantage of
this permission to secure homes, paying for them by small, half-
yearly instalments. Almost the only Irishman in the settlement
ambitious in this direction was Tom Lunday. Being a youngish
man with a largish family, he had not until quite recently been
able to save up enough for his first instalment ; but no sooner
was it paid down than he felt full ownership in the place and
commenced making improvements, chiefly in the form of addi-
tions called by Johnny Phinn " anti-chambers on behind." These
" anti-chambers " were put up by Tom himself, partly in the
way of amusement for Tom was of steady habits and preferred
pottering about home to lounging in bar-rooms and partly for
the benefit of his wife. Once every twelve-month Mrs. Lunday
presented her husband with a new little Lunday, and Tom could
not better show his gratitude than by making life easier for her.

So first he built her a summer-kitchen and then, " by way o'
leg-savin','' he moved the wood-shed up to it. Next, a chicken-
house was attached to the wood-shed, and close against the
chicken-house snuggled a pig-pen. This last addition was only
just completed, and as yet stood empty and odorless. But Tom
had his eye on a pig ; he hoped to be able to buy it before
long. He had meant to stop and take a look at it this very
day.

Since his talk with Owens, however, he felt dispirited and
went straight home. He walked out to the back of his lot and
surveyed the place with pride. Those potatoes were growing
well ; he hoed them daily, Sundays not excepted, and Ricky
and May fought the bugs for " a pinny a hunderd." The
onions also were doing their duty after a stately and delicate
fashion ; the beet-tops looked lusty with their long, red-veined
leaves, and the cabbages spread themselves as the wicked in
great power are said to do.

Tom turned to his little out-buildings and owned to himself
that it was " a tidy job." Did not everybody say Tom Lunday
was a born carpenter ? Were it not for that^ head of his he
would now be putting up houses instead of mining. Yes, this
was creditable work and all his ; even the neat board-walk upon
which he stood had been laid by him ; he intended to run it to
the foot of the garden soon. But would it be worth while ?

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 859

Wh was going to eat the potatoes out of those hills ? Whose
pig would wallow in that fresh, piney sty ? What inferior breed
of chickens might not be clucking and crowing in the cosy coop
this time next year ?

" Looks nice, Tom, don't it ?" His wife stood at his elbow,
a baby in her arms. She was a little woman, with a mottled
complexion, a great deal too much hair, and all of her front
upper teeth gone ; but as in Tom's mind comeliness and wifely
virtue were synonymous, Annie might fairly be called a raving
beauty. " Don't it look nice ?"

Tom did not speak at once. He could have cried instead ;
but presently he made out to say: "What if ye had to give it
up, Annie?"

" Huh ?" said Annie.

" Maybe we'll have to go, darlin'."

" Are ye out wid the boss, thin ?"

" Not wid Owens, but maybe I'll be gettin' out wid the Big
Boss before long."

" I wouldn't thin." This was no vain boast of Mrs. Lunday's :
her neighbors who loved to quarrel were often sore vexed be-
cause she " wouldn't."

" Maybe I'll not be able to help mesilf from doin' it," re-
plied Tom.

" How's that ?"

Tom squatted down upon the board-walk and Annie fol-
lowed his example, letting the baby wriggle out of her arms in-
to the potato-patch, where, being on terms of the utmost familiar-
ity with Mother Earth, it grovelled blissfully.

" You see, it's this way," said Tom ; " ivery man of us is got
to go marchin' like sojers to meet the President who's a-comin'
on the Fourth."

" That '11 be very grand," said Annie, who loved a parade with
all her woman's soul, and whose first thought was only of the
fine appearance her handsome husband would make. " I'll take
thim spots out o' your Sunday coat straight."

"Ye needn't mind," said Tom ; "the Boss is fer showin' us
off in our workin' clothes."

" Your workin' clothes !" surveying Tom's sooty costume with
a look of horror. " I niver heard the likes. An' will ye have
to smoot your faces too ?"

" Like enough," he replied, " an' us what's miners is got to
shoulder a drill. 'Tain't no fun marchin' in town an' out, an*
up an' down, an' around wid a fifteen-pound drill in your arms."

86o THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

" That's no great thing fer a man," said Annie. " Haven't
I marched in town an' out, an' up an' down, an' around wid a
twinty-pound baby in me arms, an' two that ain't much more'n
babies a-taggin' on ? But what time o' day '11 it be ?"

" That's just the bother," said Tom ; " it'll be in the middle
o' the day, an' pipin' hot in the sun, an' ye're well aware that
me an' the sun ain't oh the very frindliest kind o' footin'."

u That's so, dearie " ; and Annie sat pensive for a time. Then
suddenly : " But do ye have to go ? Can't ye be let off ?"

" I reckon there's no help for it."

"An' why not?"

" 'Cause the Big Boss says we must."

" An' what if ye don't do what he sayes ?"

Tom explained rather blunderingly the connection between
Mr. Henderson's ambition and that gentleman's immediate pro-
ject, not omitting Owen's darksome hints as to the further con-
nection between a refusal on the part of the men to aid in said
project, and their own more modest personal ambitions. (He
did not make mention of Owen's " blarney." Tom was too mod-
est a man to repeat his own praises, even to his wife.)

Mrs. Lunday looked hard at her husband. " An' ye mean
to say, thin, that if ye don't march one way ye'll have to march
another?"

" That's about the long an' short of it," said Tom.

" Oh ! the blessed heart's-blood pet-lamb-pudgeon !" screamed
Mrs. Lunday, plunging forward and grabbing by its clothing the
baby, who had, by good hit, captured a potato-bug, and was
with painful care conveying the same mouthwards. " How manny
do ye suppose is down her already ?" and she fingered wildly
about in the little pink cavity where as yet no teeth had
sprouted.

Tom looked on without anxiety, but with that peculiar air of
patience which a man assumes while waiting for a woman to
come back to the point. , " I reckon it'll be worse fer the baytle
than fer hersilf," he remarked.

Annie took no notice of this unfatherly conduct, but con-
tinued her search until assured that no immediate evil effects
were to be apprehended, then, making a wide, deep lap between
her knees for the too enterprising infant, she held it there safe
out of harm's way.

The recoil of Mrs. Lunday's mind after this episode was in-
stantaneous, and her voice took on its former tone as she said :
" Then the long an' short fer us is to git out."

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 86 1

" Ye don't mean it, Annie."

"Sure'n I do."

" It'll be better fer me to march."

" Not a shtep'll ye march " ; and she jounced the baby em-
phatically.

" A while ago ye were wafltin' me to," said Tom in a dry
tone.

"Yis," she replied, unabashed, "I. did; me pride was on top
thin, but there's somethin' else ferninst me pride that's strong-
er'n it."

" An' what's that ?"

Annie hugged the little one and kissed it all over its bald
head, rocking back and forth. " What'd we do, what'd we do,
me blissin', if daddy was to be sthruck dead ?" Then turning to
her husband " Promise me ye'll go an' ask the Big Boss to let
ye off."

" I can't do it, Annie ; I can't risk losin' me place."

" No matter fer the place ; git another."

" That's easy to say an' hard to do. Ye know well I
can't work out o' doors ; there's no mines besides this I'd so
much as go into, nor I'm not eddicated fer your fine indoor
work. Thin, what's worse, we'd have to give up our home here,
and lose all we've paid on it. Are ye so willin' to give up your
home, Annie ?"

" I'd rather give up me home than me husband," she said
quietly.

" Maybe ye'll not be called upon to do either I ain't dead
yet "; and Tom bent laughing over the child, who stretched out
its arms toward the shiny hat-lamp in its father's hat.

"Ye'll be dead sure if ye go marchin' in the bilin' sun,"
persisted Annie. " What did the doctor tell ye ? "

" Doctors don't know everything," said Tom. The more his
wife opposed him the more desirous did he become of pleasing
Mr. Henderson. Moreover, the longer he sat among his growing
vegetables and thought of all the labor he had bestowed upon
his little place, the more intolerable became the idea of leaving
it for what was possibly a mere notion of his own and the doc-
tor's. That Mr. Henderson, by also indulging in a notion, might
work ill to others did not trouble him much. .Tom was not
given to questioning the actions of the Big Boss, who, though
known for an odd fish, had heretofore done nothing but what
was kind and considerate.

The Rosemily deserved all the praises which we have heard

862 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

Owen Owens bestow thereupon, and it had always been the boast of
the employees that their very biggest man lived in the neighbor-
hood of his property, spent most of his money there, and looked
after so much more than his directly personal interests.

In fact, no employer in the land had a better right to ex-
pect to be humored in an innocent whim than Mr. Leroy Hen-
derson, and on an ordinary occasion he would probably have
met with no difficulty in thus attempting to raise an impromptu
regiment ; but the approach of a national election campaign,
together with the general understanding that the President
was intending to run for a second term, gave, as even Johnny
Phinn had been clever enough to perceive, a significance to the
affair which it would not otherwise have had, especially as the
majority of the miners were on the opposite side and mostly
strong partisans.

True, among the hundreds employed at the Rosemily, repre-
sentatives of nearly every European nation, were naturally a
goodly number who knew nothing and cared nothing about the
politics of the United States ; but even this class contained
some who, regarding Mr. Henderson's request as a command
which it virtually amounted to resented being forced to do ex-
tra work (and on a holiday, too) merely to please a man whose
sole claim upon them consisted in his paying them wages for
stipulated service the Big Boss's works of supererogation as an
employer winning him little advantage here:

Still another class, chiefly of British birth, had no feelings of
any sort connected with the matter save that they were strong-
ly averse, on general principles, to making spectacles of them-
selves, and the desire of their chief that they should appear as
a body in mining garb struck them as supremely ridiculous.

Among these various kinds of malcontents it is not surprising
that individuals loving liberty above aught else and unwilling to
beg a favor where they would not grant one, quietly threw up
their positions rather than submit to what they considered op-
pressive treatment ; while others, being warned by Owens and
having respect to the buttering of their bread, sought an inter-
view with Mr. Henderson.

Every evening crowds of men besieged the stately house on
the hill asking to be " let off." Mr. Henderson received the first-
comers very kindly, and accepted all their excuses as plausible ;
but when, encouraged by the success of these earliest applicants,
the men began to pour in upon him by scores, his patience
gave out, and he at length refused to be seen by any more of them.

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 863

Late Saturday night, when he thought all danger from peti-
tioners over, he ventured out on his veranda and walked up
and down in a state of great displeasure. It seemed to him
that the whole crew of the Rosemily had been at his door dur-
ing the past few days, and he felt an almost boyish disappoint-
ment at the possible defeat of his darling plan.

If ever a man took pride in his own lordship, it was Leroy
Henderson. He felt a certain passionate interest in his posses-
sions in the rich veins of ore, in the very breaker itself. Was
it not the biggest, the most expensive, with the highest "head-
house " and the deepest shaft, all iron bratticed, of any in the
valley ?

It was christened with the combined names of his two little
daughters. Every morning he looked out upon its fine black
outlines, admiring it as he would a work of art. He had paid
a large sum to a great artist for painting its portrait, which now
hung, suitably framed, upon his walls all of which surely goes to
prove that a bloated capitalist may also be a man of sensibility.
That Mr. Henderson was original of idea and had an eye for
the picturesque is sufficiently shown by his conception of a miners'
parade in costume. Upon carrying out his conception he had
undoubtedly set his heart, but now it looked as if everything
would fall through. He was not only disappointed, he was gen-
uinely angry. He had not dreamed of any disaffection, supposing
that the miners to a man would be only too proud to join in
so grand an affair as he proposed this should be.

What an ungrateful gang they were ! With everything done
for their welfare could they not grant this little favor to one
who, while their employer, was always striving to be their bene-
factor as well ? What was the good of being served by men
who were capable of no feelings of friendly generosity after their
wages were paid? All the ill-made Polanders and stupid Hun-
garian scrubs would be on hand, of course, but the ones he had
most counted on were the first to back out ; those big, hand-
some Irishmen what a grand company they would make ! The
biggest and handsomest of the lot, however,. Tom Lunday, had
not come to beg off. Owens, who had called this evening, in-
timated that the success of the parade now depended almost
wholly upon Tom, whose character was of that mysterious
make known as " influential." " There's a few," Owens had said,
" that'll hold themselves stiff in any case Phinn and his set ;
but the rest say that if Lunday goes they'll go, and so it
stands."

864 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

"And will Lunday go?" Mr. Henderson had asked.

" Well, that's uncertain," replied Owens.

But Mr. Henderson now felt safe in assuring himself that it
was certain. Tom was a good fellow, steady and honest, with
a decent sense of gratitude and respect. Such stuff as he ought
not to be kept down in the ranks. The next time a boss's posi-
tion became vacant

" Mr. Henderson," spoke a deep, timid voice out of the dark-
ness at the foot of the steps.

Mr. Henderson strained his eyes. " Who's there ? " he asked.

A figure moved into the ray of light shed by the hall lamp.
There was no mistaking those long yellow locks.

"Why Lunday, what is it?"

" Mr. Henderson " Tom choked considerably in getting the
words out " I've come to ask ye to let me off from paradin'.
I don't mind the doin' of it, an' I'd like to please ye first rate ;
but I got a sun-sthroke five years ago, an' "

"See here, my man," interrupted Mr. Henderson, "I've had
enough of this. I wondered what new complaint would be
breaking out among you fellows down there. How they've been
able to work with all their sore toes, sprained ankles, rheumatic
backs, and what not is more than I can imagine. But this is
positively the first case of sun-stroke ! It won't do. You've got
an excellent reputation, Lunday, and I'd like to excuse you, but
I can't. There's no use trying to do this sort of thing with a
handful of men. Now your example goes for a good deal here-
abouts, I'm told. Owens says you're the bellwether, and they'll
all follow where you lead "

" I'm no one to sthir up the men, Mr. Henderson !" burst
out Tom with indignation.

" I did not say you were that, Lunday ; it is to your credit
that you exert so quiet an influence and always for good, so that
even the whisky ring respect what you do and think. Now I
understand that it virtually rests with you to say whether or not
there shall be a parade. You can see, I'm sure, what a disap-
pointment it will be to me if the thing falls through, and I tell
you plainly, I count on you to help me."

" I'd like to be of assistance to ye, sir," said Tom, " an' sure
it's a fine thing ye're gettin' up fer us to take part in thim as
can go into it shud be no ind proud an' I mesilf had no wish
to back out, Mr. Henderson, only me old woman she's afeared
fer me health, an' she got at me an' kept at me till I was
forced agin me will to come an' ask to be let off."

1892.] THE BIG Boss' 's PARADE. 865

Ah, Tom, Tom ! at Adam's old trick ? Yet blame him not,
reader. Calpurnia's dreams caused even great Caesar to halt in
the path of duty, nor did he scorn to say, " My wife stays me
at home."

But this admission of Tom's was very ill-timed. By making
it he lost all chance of convincing Mr. Henderson of the gen-
uineness of his plea. That gentleman burst into a fit of laugh-
ter. " Oh ! well, women have their little notions," said he, " but
we can't always humor them " ; then in a determinate tone
" good-night ; see you at the South Pool Common to-morrow
afternoon" ; and moved as if to go in.

" But, Mr. Henderson, Mr. Henderson !" called Tom after him,
in so desperate a tone that Mr. Henderson turned back ; " I
can't lave ye till I'm honest wid ye ; ye're countin' on me too
much. It's thrue what I told ye, that I didn't come here o' me
own will, but only to satisfy Mrs. Lunday ; an' though ye won't
say ye'll excuse me, I'll have to do in the ind what she says."

" Indeed! How so?"

" 'Cause she's the boss," replied Tom simply ; " if it was a
matter o' business wid ye, sir, I'd putt ye first ivery time, but
whin well, whin it's a matter o' plasure, I think it's but dacent
in me to give in to me old woman. Howiver," and Tom moved
a little nearer, resting one foot on the lowest step, " there's wan
thing I'd like to ask ye : is it the truth what they say, that
thim of us as won't march '11 be turned off?"

The darkness concealed a very red face at the top of the
steps.

" Oh ! that's the trouble, is it ? "

" Not wid her ; she's only fer kapin' me above ground some
longer and indade it's a bad head I have ; but what most
troubles me, sir, is the fear o' havin' to lave me place what I've
paid down on twice already, an' what I've planted an' hoed '
Tom choked, he could not go on.

Mr. Henderson was silent for a few moments. He was see-
ing himself in a very unpleasant light that of a tyrant and
questioning how much he had really meant in his hints to
Owens. These hints had not seemed to him very serious at the
time, yet he now recognized the fact that in making them he
had been influenced by a certain intention of coercion. There
were men in his position who had been known to coerce their
workmen for political ends, and he had always condemned them.
Certainly, he had never intended to dismiss a man like Lunday
for such a cause, and this being the case, it would be obviously

866 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

unjust to treat the others so, even though they chose to dis-
oblige him. After all, had he any right to expect them to hu-
mor a mere whim of his ?

When Owens, accounting to Tom for the Big Boss's conduct,
said, " Politics has got into him," he was right as to the fact but
not wholly right as to the inference. Mr. Henderson's eyes were
indeed turned towards Washington, but as yet he had not at
least consciously followed any " crooked ways " to get there.
In seeking to carry out this scheme of a miner's parade he was
aware of no motives beyond those of indulging a rather weird
fancy and of flattering a very natural pride at being able to
display so large a body of his own employees. But he now dis-
covered that his employees had views and reasons of their own
which he was bound to respect, and it hurt him keenly to feel
that he was even under suspicion of failing to yield such re-
spect.

"Who told you this?" he at length asked.

" I heard tell of it" Tom would not betray Owens " but I
didn't more'n half belave it, sir."

" You mustn't believe it at all. Owens misunderstood me ;
of course it was he who told you " Here Mr. Henderson checked
himself, thinking it more dignified to explain nothing. Tom,
who had all this time been holding his hat in his hand, made as
if to put it on. " Mr. Lunday," said the Big Boss, in a tone of
the utmost politeness, " I should be greatly obliged to you if
you could see your way clear towards doing this thing for me,
but of course I cannot insist, since, as you have said, this is
not exactly a matter of business, and, as it seems to touch your
private domestic affairs, I have no right to interfere. You must
be permitted to do as you please, and we will say no more
about it at present. Good-night " ; and he walked into the house,
closing the door behind him.

On his way down the hill Tom said to himself : " I'll not
tell Annie the Boss was so aisy wid me. I'll make her think he
wouldn't let me off, an' see what she says. Thin I'll go anny-
how." The sensible Mr. Lunday was not a little set up. Mr.
Henderson's flattering opinion, supported by quotations from
Owen Owens, gave him a quite new sense of importance, which
was increased by the deferential manner of his superior toward
him. He had fulfilled his duty to his wife by complying with
her wishes ; the rest was the Big Boss's affair, not his. Tom
easily persuaded himself that he would be practising no decep-

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 867

tion on Annie by giving her to understand that his petition had
been rejected.

Mr. Henderson's last words surely did not express his real
feeling, which had come out plainly at first. Tom now felt con-
siderably ashamed of having pleaded Annie's objections. He
was willing to be bossed by her in family matters, but this was a
case in which a man ought to assert his right to do as he chose.
He chose to please Mr. Henderson he had meant to do it from
the first and certainly he could not refuse now after being
treated like a gentleman.

When Tom related to Annie such portions of the interview
as he deemed fit he was a little disappointed that she took it so
quietly. For a while she did not speak, then said without emo-
tion : " I reckon ye made a muddle of it ; if it was me as
wanted to git out of a thing I'd done it, sure."

This Tom could not deny; he thought his wife altogether
clever.

Presently she said in a changed tone : " Maybe it'll not be a
hot day ; but if it is, ye'll put a wet rag in your hat an' carry
an umberella along."

" Umberella ! " sarcastically. "A man what goes marchin'
miles an' miles wid a big iron shtick on his shoulder wants wan
arm of him free to swing, else he'll get a shtifT in his back."

"An' ain't I carried a baby an' a basket an' a umberella all at
the wan time? an me back's as good as iver it was."

" Looks like women is made fer that sort of thing," said
Tom, and straightway dropped asleep.

It was a hot day a boiling, stewing day, whereon humidity
and heat seemed to be running a race with each other. Not-
withstanding Mr. Henderson's apprehensions, a comparatively
small number of the Rosemily gang failed him.

Between five and six hundred men and boys were congre-
gated on the Common at nine o'clock on the morning of the
Fourth. Sunday afternoon's drill had been tolerably successful,
so that the final forming of companies was accomplished with
little trouble. The Big Boss himself, as chief marshal of the
procession, appeared mounted upon a fine black horse. The
head boss of each department rode with him as assistant mar-
shals, and these were permitted to wear their best clothes ; but
the rest came attired in the inky, oily raiment which they wore
at their every-day labor.

By ten o'clock all were ready to start. Foremost rode the

868 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

marshals, making with Mr. Henderson a baker's dozen. They
all did their best to look perfectly at ease, and every man of
them held his bridle with both hands.

At a certain distance behind the marshals walked two men,
one carrying a large flag, the other a banner bearing the in-
scription, " A welcome to the President from the Rosemily
Regiment." On the reverse of the banner was a coal-breaker.

Then followed the miners a large body each with his drill
gun-fashion. After the miners marched the laborers, some carry-
ing picks, some shovels.

Next, a body of cavalry the driver-boys mounted upon
mules and flourishing whips of knotted leather. The slate-pickers
formed the rear-guard, ranging from youths down to boys of ten
and twelve.

These last, who numbered nearly four score, having neither
prejudices nor physical disabilities, were able to enter thoroughly
into the spirit of the occasion. They had blackened their faces
and hands, and looked a very army of imps.

And now the whole procession was in motion. Mr. Hender-
son, turning in his saddle, cast a proud eye backward over the
" serried files " of black figures. The hot sun glinted upon
hundreds of bobbing hat-lamps, and upon rows and rows of the
dinner-pails slung by straps across the men's shoulders. It was
possible to keep better step than they kept, but no matter ! Here
actually was the Rosemily Regiment, and wonderfully effective,
too. How many mine-owners would have conceived such a
thing, and where was another who could have carried out the idea ?

This was what came of living among your men, and joining
to the best business management a sort of parental care and in-
terest. Mr. Henderson did not feel at all bitter this morning
toward the hundred or two who had refused to gratify him.
There were enough without them.

A distance of several yards was maintained between the
banner-bearers and the division of miners. In this space, as
captain of the division, marched Tom Lunday. He was the
tallest man in the regiment and further conspicuous by his long,
light hair. He shouldered his drill in a truly military manner,
and stepped along as only that man can whose legs are exactly
of the right length. As they passed through the village on their
way citywards, crowds of women and children stood watching at
the gates. Few of the disaffected men were to be seen, though
here and there one less shamefaced or less proud than the rest
peered out from a window or even stood boldly in a door-way.

1892.] THE BIG Boss 's PARADE. 869

At the gate of Tom Lunday's place his little ones, large-eyed
and wholesomely dirty, were huddled together, looking wonder-
ingly for their father among this great mass of men. Tom
noticed that their mother was not with them, but as the first
line of " foot " came opposite the house Annie appeared at the
door and passed quickly through the group of children out into
the street. She was clad in a clean gingham gown and a long,
white apron. Upon her head she wore a stiffly-starched sun-
bonnet, and carried in her hand a brown cotton umbrella of
stupendous size.

Joining her husband, she raised the umbrella over his head
and walked along beside him without a word.

Tom was at first speechless, but a laugh broke out among
his fellow-miners, which, spreading along the ranks, grew into
a roar. The meaning of Mrs. Lunday's act was well understood ;
" Tom Lunday's head " had long been a subject for pleasant
ridicule at the Rosemily. Tom, who knew his trouble to be a
serious one, had never minded the ridicule much, but the present
circumstances made it unbearable.

" Do ye want to be makin' a fool o' me, Annie ? " he said,
trying to get his head out from under the hateful shelter. But
Annie ^ walked on, silently persistent.

Meanwhile, the laughter attracted Mr. Henderson's attention,
and, wheeling about, he rode back to find out the cause of it.
The huge umbrella at once caught his eye.

" Hello, Lunday ! what's all this about? "

" It's not me, sir," said Tom in a deprecating tone ; " it's me
old woman."

Mr. Henderson looked quizzically down at the " old woman,"
who was blushing under her sunbonnet and looking anything
but old spite of her absent front teeth. The umbrella did not
shield her in the least, for Tom, being so tall, she had to hold
it very high. It was a clumsy weight to support thus, but
Annie grasped it with as firm a hand and carried it at arm's
length as steadily as does Liberty her torch.

There was something almost pathetic in the sturdy devotion
expressed by every line and movement of the little figure ; in
the quick, short steps, in the head held doggedly erect, in the
stoutly uplifted arm.

Mr. Henderson smiled as he watched her and yet felt strangely
touched. Tom's excuse came back* to his mind. He had really
thought it only an excuse and had paid no further regard
to it. But everything in this little woman's manner showed him

870 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

plainly that here was no shamming. He returned to his place at
the head of the procession, wondering how many beside Tom
were unfit for what he had required of them. For a few mo-
ments his scheme looked to him both childish and selfish, but
presently, remembering the apparent zest with which the men
had gone through their Sunday drill and also their general air
of cheerfulness this morning, he easily banished the doubts which
cast a damper upon his pride. But he resolved to keep watch
of Lunday, and if that excellent fellow showed any signs of suc-
cumbing to the heat, back he should go in the Henderson car-
riage, which was following at no great distance.

But Lunday showed not the least sign of succumbing to the
heat. Possibly years of caution had enabled him to overcome
the tendency to sunstroke his sober habits were undoubtedly in
his favor ; moreover, the miner's costume was a light one,
consisting only of a flannel shirt well opened at the throat, and
trousers. The wet rag for his hat had not been forgotten, and
with the big umbrella to boot he was, notwithstanding a burning
sun and sultry atmosphere, comparatively safe.

For all this he felt extremely uncomfortable owing to that
same umbrella. More than once did he try to take the offen-
sive thing into his own hand, but vainly ; Annie's grip was irre-
sistible, and Tom was too much of a gentleman to tussle with
his wife in public.

It might have been supposed that the Big Boss, disgusted at
seeing his fine procession marred by so inappropriate an object,
would order both umbrella and bearer out of the ranks, but
his smile of amusement as he rode off to the front caused great
disappointment to Tom.

As for Annie, she minded nothing. The whole village were
welcome to laugh at her a privilege which they made the most of.

Having resolved and undertaken to protect her husband dur-
ing his march she fully intended to accomplish the same. Be-
cause he fretted under it was no reason for yielding to him ; she
had expected him to fret. Men to her were but children of a
larger growth, and she held the umbrella over her " old man's "
head in the same spirit as that in which she administered tansy
or rhubarb to her babies.

Thus, raised by sheer force of resolution above all fear of
comment or remonstrance, did she go forth from the village at
the head of the Big Boss's parade.

Once only during their long march over the dusty country
road were any words exchanged between husband and wife.

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 871

Tom, noticing that Annie's arm was growing unsteady, proposed
her changing sides with him. As she did so he said : " What's
become o' the baby ? "

" The Lard '11 take keer o' her," responded Annie mysteriously.

" Maybe he'd 'a* taken keer o' me, too, widout your comin'
along," insinuated Tom.

" Sure, an' isn't he a-takin' keer o' ye this minute ? " said she.

Tom felt that he was being well taken care of, and since he
had not looked for any direct interposition of Providence in his
behalf, he was fain to recognize in his wife the only too-willing
instrument of "the Lard."

The big town was all agog with the President's visit, an
honor unparalleled in its history. Bricks were hardly visible for
the bunting which covered them, and even in the poorest parts
might be seen pitiful attempts at decoration, garments and mere
rags of the patriotic colors being, hung out where flags and
other drapery were lacking.

Naturally there was considerable curiosity to see Mr. Hen-
derson's division of the grand parade, and great was the wonder
and delight expressed thereat, for, while miners in themselves
were here no rarity, yet so large an organized body of them
was decidedly impressive, and this spite of the fact that no
amount of vigilance on the part of the marshals could keep the
slate-pickers from acting even more impish than they looked, or
infuse the least particle of cavalry spirit into the mules and
their riders.

As they entered the city an unexpected sensation attacked
Annie. Those hundreds of head-filled windows, each head fur-
nished with two cruel eyes apiece ; those heartlessly gay groups
on door-steps and verandas ; that jostling, jeering crowd of
rudely staring men and impudent boys the natural hangers-on
of every street-show all was indescribably painful to the mod-
est bearer of the umbrella, who felt horribly conspicuous, holding
on high the burdensome thing and trotting along in the middle
of the street, " like an old cow," as she said to herself. Gladly
would she have lowered the umbrella and covered her own face
withal.

Every few steps somebody in the crowd propounded the ques-
tion : " What's the matter with the umbrella ? " And the cheerful
response, " She's all right ! " was never wanting.

Tom, too, came in for a personal share in the remarks. " So
you've brought your girl along ! " "Ain't he a toney one, though ! "
" Don't let him get tanned ; he's too pretty to spoil."

872 THE BIG Boss's PARADE. [Mar.,

Tom could have borne this cheap fun very well for himself,
but it troubled him that a woman and that woman his wife
should in so public a place be subjected to such rudeness. Still,
he saw no help for it. A glance at Annie sufficed to show him
the futility of trying to get rid of her. She was grit personified.
Every time Tom shifted his drill she took the other side and
shifted her umbrella.

The intensity of self-consciousness which, by reaction, had at
first made her almost deaf and blind, gradually lessened, especial-
ly after reaching the better part of the town, where window and
door-step comments, if made at all, were not audible to the ob-
jects of them.

She quite forgot herself in the excitement of joining forces
with the regiment of State militia on the broad, green, well-
shaded river-bank. Those civilian soldiers, youthful and trim, in
their dainty uniform with its bravery of braid and buttons,
seemed, in contrast to the miners, like birds of gorgeous plu-
mage trooping with crows. Marching was now quite a different
thing when accompanied by a band of men who discoursed
through mouth-pieces of brass and silver martial music of the
most inspiriting character. Annie's senses became elated to a
pitch that obliterated all bodily consciousness. Surely she and
Tom, keeping step together to the stately march measure, could
not be common denizens of earth. Afterwards, when describing
her feelings, she said : " I jist thought we was two blissed saints
a-turnin' into angels."

Whether her husband fully shared her exalted frame of mind
is matter for conjecture ; but having, like a sensible man, re-
signed himself to the inevitable as represented by the umbrella,
he began to enjoy the sensation of being a part of this great,
music-led mass.

It had not taken him very long to resign himself. His
natural feeling of vexation at the trick played upon him by
Annie was quickly followed by the thought that he entirely de-
served it for /having deceived her. Often before, in endeavoring
to manage things his own way, he had been deterred by this
wise little woman. In the matter of the parade he had gained
his point only to find that his wife could even here outwit him.

How the station was at length reached ; how the train bring-
ing the President was on time ; how, after saluting the troops
and being cheered in return, that great man entered a barouche
drawn by four gray horses and rode to his destination smiling

1892.] THE BIG Boss's PARADE. 873

blandly right and left ; of the speech that he made from the
hotel veranda, wherein he complimented indiscriminately the
city what he had seen of it ; the hotel, in which he had not
yet dined ; the citizens, including, of course, the hoodlums who
formed one-half of the crowd beneath him ; of the impressive
oratorical pause which he made before apostrophizing with great
sonority of utterance " Yonder imposing body of men in dusky
raiment, bearing aloft the glittering insignia of a dangerous but
noble occupation you, the underground sons of toil " ; of the
hooting and bellowing that burst forth in answer to this timely
allusion, the slate-pickers being not slow in testifying their ap-
proval by a chorus of two-finger whistles ; how quiet was re-
stored and the address concluded ; of the recklessly patriotic
waste of ammunition and inconsideration of the Presidential nerves
in firing minute-guns all day long ; also how three small boys
got kicked over by the cannon, but were not otherwise hurt ; how
everywhere that Lunday went the umbrella was sure to go ; and
how returning home under it in the rain he was able to crow
over the men who had whilom jibed but now envied all these
things may be mentioned but not enlarged upon.

Late that evening as Annie with the baby on one hip was
bustling about to prepare supper, she heard voices outside, and
presently Tom put his head in the door saying : " Come along,
ye're wanted at the front."

Not waiting to set down the baby, she hastened out. At the
gate sat a figure on horseback. It was the Big Boss just return-
ing from town.

" Mrs. Lunday," said he, and raised his hat as he spoke, " I've
stopped to thank you for your share in to-day's business. It was
a very large share indeed. I'm convinced that but for you there
would have been no parade at all."

" How's that, sir?" asked Annie innocently.

" You are very modest, Mrs. Lunday, but I must insist that
it was noble in you to give in under the circumstances, and
thoughtful of me, besides, when I had excused your husband.
Moreover, you are a brave woman to do as you did. Very try-
ing it must have been ; but no one thought the less of you for
it, I can assure you. If I had badges of honor to distribute, I
should give you, Mrs. Lunday, the highest one as captain of the
Rosemily Regiment." Then, shaking hands with the astonished
woman and patting the baby on the head, Mr. Henderson rode off.

When Annie went back into the house Tom was sitting in a
VOL. LIV. 56

874 Hie JACET. [Mar.,

corner, pretending to doze. She continued her work for some
minutes, then walked over to where he sat and stood before
him.

"Tom," she said. Tom stirred a little. " Why didn't ye tell
me the Boss let ye off?"

Tom opened his eyes. " I reckon we're quits, ain't we ? ''
looking her squarely in the face.

And Annie left unsaid what she was going to say.

EDITH BROWER.

HIC JACET.

UPON a stone with lichens gray,
'Mid mossy marbles of the dead,

A wild rose weeps itself away
In crimson tears and kisses red.

The beech upon it rains in gold ;

A briar wantons over it,
And some old sculptor-hand hath scroll'd

Its brief Hie facet, quaintly writ.

But if or beauty, age, or youth
Be pillowed in the green below ;

Or heart of hope, or tongue of truth,
Or babe or bride, we may not know.

Or if in life's allotted span,

Who slumbers here knew aught of love,
That, hopeless, wastes the heart of man ;

Or felt the gnawing pain thereof ;

What cruel caprice of circumstance
O'ertook him, or what fate befell ;

What lifting wave of lucky chance,
Two words alone remain to tell.

For run as will our round of years,
In shine or shadow, peace or strife ;

Let laughter be our lot, or tears,
Hie \facet is the sum of life.

PATRICK J. COLEMAN.

Philadelphia.

1892.] THE SOUTH. 875

THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, AND AFTER THE

WAR.

UNTIL the introduction of railways the great routes of com-
merce and travel between the North and South were the same.
In the East, by sea, along the Atlantic coast ; in the West, by
the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. Carriers and traders became
acquainted with the commercial centres along these routes ; but
only in rare instances did their casual acquaintance with the
country or its people reach beyond the vicinity of commercial
towns. The great body of the people, North and South, did not
know each other, and each held exaggerated and false notions
of the other's moral and social status. That Southern institu-
tion which was not only the occasion, but a causa causarum, of
civil war, always precluded free inquiry or frank interchange of
opinions on matters even remotely affecting it. And was there
ever a question of national policy that did not, directly or indi-
rectly, affect its productive industries ? that did not in some
way affect the relative values of forced and free labor ?
Northern artisans complain of injury from competition with con-
vict labor, though they do not yet propose to abolish convic-
tions for crime or prohibit sentences to hard labor.

To say that Northern men who became residents in the
South were ignorant of their native country, would seem absurd.
But yet the assertion is not void of truth. After long residence,
even in a foreign country, one becomes habituated to the man-
ners and customs of its people and to their prevalent modes of
thought. And as these become thoroughly engrafted, the mem-
ories of early life grow indistinct or are forgotten. Such trans-
formations are, of course, more readily effected where identity of
language, of race and its traditions, leaves nothing to be changed
save what is due to the accidental conditions of social life. In
fact these accidental differences were the sole distinctions between
the Northern and Southern people. From time to time we have
heard or read of the " cavaliers of Virginia " and of the " South-
ern chivalry, " as if those people were not of the same race or
social order as their Northern neighbors. In New York the "old
Knickerbockers" are posed as a social aristocracy. A few days
ago a city newspaper referred to one of those names which to-
day is a synonym for wealth as representing the " blue blood of

876 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

the Knickerbockers, " though fifty years ago not one of the name
had ever risen above the rank of the sons of toil. All honor to
them for merited success ! It deserves a higher reward than the
silly adulation of a common scribbler. In Carolina the " old
Huguenots " became a shibboleth of respectability. New-Eng-
landers are proud to trace their origin to or through old Eng-
land ; partly from filial piety, partly to prove that they " come
of decent people."

There were shades of difference between the Blacks, Browns,
and Grays of the South and the same colors in the North. But
whether bleached or blackened by the Southern sun, may, per-
haps, be questioned. In all this matter is involved much of
that pretentiousness of mere vanity from which communities, like
individuals, are rarely exempt. And it is at least remarkable
that, in a country where heredity is supposed to be lightly es-
teemed, these persistent claims to distinction, like long-continued
possession, should be generally accepted as evidence of right.
History nowhere affords a more absurdly false theory to account
for sectional strife, culminating in civil war, than that given by
certain writers on the causes of the " American Civil War," and
accepted, not only by strangers, but to some extent by many
of our own people. There were no specific differences of race
that even remotely affected their peaceful relations. Nor were
there any differences of social condition between the colonists of
different sections or States to account for conflicting opinions or
discordant tastes. Those of the six New England States, of
Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, the Carolinas, and
Georgia, were for the greater part of English, Irish, and Scot-
tish parentage, and the Western States were colonized from
them. That of these the most important element was English
is evidenced by the language, the laws, and the social customs
of the country. The great influx of Germans and Scandinavians
in later years has but slightly affected us, but has Anglicized
them.

That there was little difference of social rank or condition
between the colonists of North and South is proved beyond
question by colonial records. There is no escape from their
evidence ; and they tell us not only who but what the colonists
were. Generally they were people who sought to improve their
worldly fortunes ; they were neither the rich nor the powerful.
The more numerous exceptions to this rule would naturally be
expected, where in fact they were, among those who came to

the New World to secure that religious liberty for themselves

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 877

which was denied them in the Old. They were notably among
the Puritans of New England, the Friends, or Quakers, of
Pennsylvania, and the Catholics of Maryland. Doubtless there
were many others adventurous younger sons with little fortune
or prospect of preferment at home, and some whom adversity
had so reduced in fortune that they were unable to maintain
their accustomed stations in the Old World, but yet were left
with what was comparative wealth for a new country where
poverty was the rule. To this class some of the leading colo-
nists of Maryland, Virginia, Carolina, and Georgia belonged.
But their number was relatively small. The pretence of gentle
birth, as a characteristic difference between colonists of different
States, is alike silly and unfounded. There were Washingtons,
Fairfaxes, Masons, Lees, and Johnstones in the array of old
names in Virginia; Tudors, Vaughans, Waldrons, Wentworths,
and Dudleys in New England, as later there were Van Cort-
landts, Van Rensselaers, Livingstons, and Setons in New York ;
and in these and other colonies a list of less familiar names
which might challenge their claims to precedence. God forbid
that, while insistent upon the breed of dogs and horses, we should
deny or forget that the laws of their Creator respect races of
men ! But the government which, under his providence, is
established in our country recognizes no hereditary rank or
privilege, either in civil affairs or social order. Though men are
not equal as compared with each other, they are equal before
the law in having equal claims to justice and protection, for
this is but saying that they have equal claims to the justice
and mercy of God.

It has been denied that the fact of slavery was the cause of
war between the North and South. But the denial was intended
for those, on the other side of the Atlantic, who would favor a
rupture of the Union, but could not openly sympathize with a
war for the protection and perpetuation of slavery. On no other
issue could the South have been united in the attempt to de-
stroy the union of the States. No other cause of war has ever
been assigned which was not directly traceable to this. The
fomenters of dissension, North and South, had been powerless
but for the determination, on one side to oppose, on the other
to defend, the institution of African slavery.

In 1838 "Abolitionism" was hardly respectable, even in the
North. Fifteen years later, when I next served in Florida, the
temper of the people had greatly changed. The South had be-

878 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

come embittered by the persistent efforts of Northern extremists,
who denounced not only slavery, but the laws and the Consti-
tution itself for giving any protection to domestic slavery. In
the excitement engendered by fanatical propagandists and they
were fanatical the Southern extremists, in turn, became fanatics.
They began to claim a wider " area of freedom " for slavery.
The institution which, in its beginning, had been, in a measure,
forced upon the South, they now defended, on moral grounds,
as of divine origin ; and, therefore, essentially right. As a
matter of choice, they preferred the vicarious mode of submis-
sion to the judgment on " man's first disobedience " " In the
sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread." But neither the moral
question involved, nor the direct political bearing of negro servi-
tude ; nor the question of a tariff on foreign imports ; nor the
question of internal improvements and the disposition of the
proceeds of public lands ; nor the aggregation of all these matters
in dispute, was the cause of war between the general govern-
ment and the seceding States, or of that sectionalism which was
its immediate antecedent. It is often difficult to ascertain even
the proximate causes of natural phenomena. Analysis will not
always discover them. The constituents of a most delicate per-
fume are identical in kind and quantity with those of a very
disgusting compound. The actual correlations of these elements
are not the same in both. They are differently combined. The
Southern people had not been blind to the evils of slavery, nor
to its initial wrong, any more than are our Northern people in-
sensible to the evils attendant on poverty and want. In 'fact,
to the full extent of that recognition of domestic slavery which
was embodied in the Constitution, the people of the North were
as much responsible as those of the South. It was the fact,
not the moral quality of slavery, that embarrassed every question
of national policy, even when it seemed to be in no way in-
volved. It was so interwoven with every industry, with every
material interest, with domestic life, that only by violence, with
its attendant evils, could it be eradicated from our social system.
The " abolitionists" on one side, and the "State rights" theorists
on the other, had dissipated all hope of a peaceable solution of
questions at issue between the North and the South. The po-
litical bond between them was the Constitution ; there was no
'other. Prior to its adoption there had been a Confederation of
iaz&9Overeign States, which was found inadequate to the pur-
poses of peaceful government at home, and without power to
maintain its claims to equality with the sovereignties of Europe.

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 879

Its inadequacy was seen and confessed by the State governments
as well as by the people at large, and in 1787 a convention of
delegates from the several States of the Confederation assembled
at Philadelphia to discuss the articles of Confederation, and pro-
pose such amendments as the needs of government required.
Instead of amending the compact between the States, the result
of their deliberation was to propose an act of revolution. The
first article of the proposed Constitution ignored the existing
compact, and formally declared itself to be the act of the peo-
ple of the whole country ; not of the States, or the people of
the several States, but of the United States :

" We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more
perfect union, provide for the common defence, promote the
general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves
and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for
the United States of America."

Under this Constitution the powers not delegated to the
general government remained with the several States or with the
people at large. With the people as, under God, the actual pos-
sessors of sovereign power ; with the States and the people of
the several States, not by virtue of possession, but by the grant
or concession of the whole people whose sovereign will was ex-
pressed in and by the Constitution of the United States. It was
not without opposition that the people of the several States ratified
and confirmed the proposed Constitution. They were not hood-
winked into acceptance of an instrument whose scope remained
to be discovered. In both Northern and Southern States it was
opposed because it gave sovereign powers to the federal govern-
ment on matters of ' national concern ; and, of course, made the
powers of individual States subordinate to it. When the Consti-
tution was submitted to the people of the several States, as di-
rected by the convention that formed it, their representatives
met in convention for its consideration. New Hampshire was the
ninth State to accept and ratify it. Virginia and New York came
next ; so that in 1789 the government under the Constitution
was organized and in operation. But North Carolina and Rhode
Island did not give it their adhesion until the following year,
1790. It is well to remember that opposition to the sovereignty
of the federal government was manifested in New England and
the Middle States, as well as in the South ; and the possibility
of future interference with State institutions was foreseen and
made the ground of opposition in the conventions assembled for

88o THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

its discussion. In the Virginia convention it was suggested that
the ample powers entrusted to the general government might be
used to abolish slavery. Governor Randolph, referring to this
suggestion, said : " I hope there is none here who, considering
the subject in the calm light of philosophy, will make an objec-
tion dishonorable to Virginia, that at the moment they are se-
curing the rights of their citizens, an objection is started that
there is a spark of hope that those unfortunate men now held
in bondage may, by the operation of the general government,
be made free."

But the question of domestic slavery was always regarded as
matter of extreme delicacy, with which the States immediately
concerned were, within their own limits, alone competent to
deal. Unfortunately for the preservation of friendly relations,
there were Territories, not yet States, which in time would be ad-
mitted to the Union, and whose status, as free or slave States,
was yet open to discussion. It was not only for the extension
of slavery that the South contended for its admission to the
territory of prospective States, but to insure its protection where
it already existed. Every new State gave two senators to the
national legislature. And to preserve a balance of power between
the free and the slave States in the Senate, the partisans of
either section were averse to the admission of a new State on
one side without a corresponding increment on the other.
Though this did not imply hostility it evinced distrust. It was
not indicative of a united people but of rival communities,
which to-day are friends and allies, but who recognize the proba-
bility of future war of words in the forum, if not of arms on
the battle-field. The alienation between them had been continu-
ally progressive from the date of the federal Constitution. It
was an alienation of sectional populations whose leaders pandered
to the distinctive interests and prejudices of their constituencies,
until the one ceased to regard the other's domestic rights under
the supreme law, and the other denied the supremacy of the
law itself.

Prior to the congressional debates on questions relating to
internal improvements and a protective tariff for the encourage-
ment of domestic industries nearly sixty years ago the diver-
gent interests of Northern and Southern industries had devel-
oped nothing more threatening to peaceful relations than a mod-
erate sectionalism, due, primarily, to the accidents of soil and
climate, but requiring a wise discretion to reconcile conflicting
interests and preclude sectional strife. But these were questions

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 881

of public policy, which not only affected every industry, but
called in question the nature arid extent of the powers of gov-
ernment. Then, for the first time on the floor of the Senate,
the real sovereignty of individual States was boldly asserted, and
that of the federal government explicitly denied. On one side,
the Constitution was declared to be the sovereign will of the
united people ; on the other, to be a compact between sovereign
States. If the act of the whole people, whose sovereignty is un-
questionable, the powers of the States, whether previously exist-
ing in the autonomy of sovereign ' States or created by the Con-
stitution, were, from the time of its adoption, concessions from
the pre-eminent sovereignty of the national will. If but a com-
pact between sovereign States, the declaration that it was the
act of the people of the United States was false and delusive,
but a delusion to which the States and their people consented !

In view of the reluctance with which the Constitution was re-
ceived and ratified by the people of New Hampshire and Rhode
Island, New York, Virginia, and North Carolina because of the
ample powers conferred on the federal government, it is diffi-
cult to conceive why they or the other States, who had subjected
it to the severest scrutiny before they severally ratified and con-
firmed it, had so hesitated to accept a mere compact from which
they might at any time peacefully withdraw. But when the in-
terests of the country at large required a policy to which the
cotton-growing States were averse, Southern politicians notably
those of South Carolina gave an interpretation of what they
called the federal compact, which, if true, made the objections
urged against its adoption both groundless and unmeaning, and
made the instrument itself the Constitution worthless for the
purpose of forming " a more perfect union " or insuring " domes-
tic tranquillity."

The political differences between North and South were pure-
ly sectional. But there was a growing disposition to affect a
popular distinction, as if there were characteristic differences of
race between peoples who two or three generations back were
one, and who, even then, were so intermingled by migration and
domestic relations that a considerable percentage of Southern
notables, professional men as well as planters and politicians,
were of Northern birth and education. Yet this mythical dis-
tinction of race was not without effect even at home. In Europe
it was willingly accepted as a fact of history. Even England,
who should have known better, affected to accept it ; and later,
forgetting her persistent reproaches of Americans for so long

882 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

tolerating negro slavery, her nouveaux riches, and her pseudo-
philanthropists, pretended to sympathize with a " people strug-
gling for independence, and separation from those of another
social order." And so they gave encouragement to rebellion ;
but more through hostility to a great republic and rival manu-
facturers than from friendship for the insurgent States, or the
motive of their insurrection.

It is a curiosity of political history that, in England, among
the best friends of the United States, in withholding aid and
encouragement from the insurgent States, were the prince consort
and the queen. And that, among the sovereigns of Europe,
the czar openly declared his purpose to give substantial evidence
of friendship if the adverse interference of other powers should
make it necessary.

Was there ever a controversy which involved the various in-
terests of peoples living in different climates and under different
social conditions where either party was wholly right or altogeth-
er wrong ? Every virtue has its kindred vice ; as self-love is
prone to merge in selfishness, so self-respect becomes pretentious
and offensive if not restrained by just regard for others. And
when controversy reaches a point where parties ignore whatever
might check their zeal or modify their theories of right, or else
treat it as contraband, war is no longer a threatened danger,
but an existent fact. In this sense the civil war between the
general government and the secessionists began long before the
first gun was fired on Fort Sumter. It was manifest when,
at a Democratic convention in Charleston, Southern members re-
fused to unite with those from the North in nominating a can-
didate for the presidency ; though there had been no act of hos-
tility, no defiance of the sovereign power, nor pretence of seces-
sion from the Union. That the whole country so understood it is
evident from the fact that the first overt act of hostility was no
more a surprise than is the sound of the first gun when hostile
armies are in line of battle.

When secession or the attempt at secession began, that of
Florida was hardly an act of volition. Without adopting the
extremest theories of State rights advocated by those who denied
that the Constitution was the act of the people of the United
States declaring it to be only a compact between sovereign
States who might, at will, withdraw or secede from the Union
without being inflated by the absurd notion that " Cotton is
King," or accepting the monstrous doctrine that African slavery

.1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 883

was a divine institution, her industrial and commercial interests
and her geographical position made it almost a necessity that,
when the older and more populous Southern States " seceded,"
her lot should be cast with theirs. Yet in Florida, as in Virginia,
the "ordinance of secession" met with earnest opposition. In
the convention assembled at Tallahassee to determine what part
Florida should take in the impending crisis, the venerable ex-
Governor Call vainly tried to dissuade its members from follow-
ing the lead of South Carolina. And when it became evident
that their course had been predetermined, he forewarned them
of the inevitable result the desolation of the South. " I," said he,
"may not live to see it, but some of you who are resolved to
destroy the Union will, before peace is made, see your beauti-
ful town of Tallahassee garrisoned by negro troops." He then
left the convention, grieving over calamities which he saw im-
pending, but was powerless to avert. Death spared him from
the pain of witnessing the fulfilment of his prediction.

My old friend of 1838-139, Major Ward, was also a member
of that convention. In season and out of season he denounced
the conspiracy of disunionists, and in his place fought against
secession to the last. He was one of the largest slave-holders in
the State. Never given to reticence when it behooved him to
speak, he was so earnest in denouncing the treasonable character
of the secession movement that personal friends cautioned him to
be less violent in view of the excited condition of popular feeling.
The caution was ill suited to calm his own excitement or soften
its expression. He told the convention that he would lose every
negro and all else that he possessed rather than see the Union de-
s'troyed. But when the ordinance was passed, and, in imitation
of the solemnity of 1776 the members of the convention were
affixing their signatures to the formal act, he, too, went forward,
and taking the pen said to those around him : " You are all my
old friends and neighbors, and though you have determined to
go to the devil, I will not abandon you even now. I am going
to sign this ordinance of secession, but I call you to bear wit-
ness that I do it with full knowledge that I commit an act of
damnable treason ! " He afterward raised and commanded a
regiment in the Confederate service, and fell in battle before
Williamsburg. Some of our old friends in Tallahassee assured
me that " secession " had really unsettled his mind, and that he
seemed to court death more than victory in the war. Many
others, who opposed secession until it seemed an accomplished
fact, fought in the Confederate ranks in defence of home and

884 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

life-long friends, deeming the contest a war of factions when
appeal was made ad ultimam rationem regum. Had the Confede-
rate armies been formed from those only who approved "seces-
sion " for the reasons which moved its leaders, and those of the
Union of " abolitionists," there had been no war. There is even
an apparent paradox involved in the fact that the " poor whites "
of the South, whom the negroes despised as " trash," were led
to fight bravely for a cause that kept them in a condition little
better than serfdom, and, in regard to the comforts of life, in-
ferior to household slaves. But in a community where color is
the badge of a servile race a white skin is a patent of nobility.
So the poor whites of the South, like the poor Magyars of Hun-
gary, were zealous in defence of privilege ! They were unwilling
to be made no better than the negroes. The offensive zeal of
Northern abolitionists had long been a threatened danger to the
South, and had aroused resentments which, in turn, became
causes of offence and dissipated every hope of a peaceful solu-
tion of the political questions involved. When " the institution "
was assailed as a moral and political evil for which the South
alone was responsible, its champions no longer stood on the de-
fensive, no longer apologized for its maintenance as a necessity
of their condition. They became aggressive and revolutionary ;
while its assailants forgot or ignored the fact that they had
once held slaves, and that unprofitableness had supplemented
their moral objections to slavery before it was abolished.

In the wars of nations patriotism is aroused. In civil wars,
like ours, loyalty and sectionalism are antagonists. Loyalty
is fidelity to the law, not to a party or its behests. It is an
abuse of language to apply the term to persistent attachment to
sectional interests or partisan opinions. Rarely are men so loyal
to any government as to reject considerations of self-interest, the
ties of kindred, and the love of home, to maintain the sovereign-
ty of law. Loyalty, not partisanship, is a virtue which includes
all others, for it is the spirit of obedience to God, whose will
alone is law. Men may wrangle in its defence and refuse con-
sideration of minor motives until the appeal to arms. Then
there is a change of issue, and it requires a clearer perception
of the boundary between right and wrong, and a sterner sense
of duty than many men possess, to forsake or peril all else, even
life itself, in maintenance of law.

Many years ago for I am old I was assured by men older
than I am now and who remembered the incipient stages of the
Revolution of 1776, that even in Massachusetts, where disaffection

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 885

first appeared and where the first blood was shed, the great body
of the people beyond the vicinity of Boston were loyal to old
England until the war began. Lexington and Bunker Hill made
" patriots " of thousands who neither knew nor cared about the
wrong of the " Stamp Act," or the just principles of taxation
and representation in Parliament. But then the masses were
aroused to fight for liberty ! It may be a false sentiment ; but,
though I have little traditional regard for the " American loyal-
ists " for we, or some of us, were " patriots " I have always felt
deep respect for the men who, in 1776, periled their all and lost
all for their loyalty. When that rebellion became revolution
and the new government an accomplished fact, the loyalists to
the king became no less loyal to the republic. The term loyal
has been so much abused, and in our Civil War was so often
employed to disguise baseness and cupidity, that its use would
sometimes provoke derision. But .what other word so exactly
denotes faithfulness to the law ?

Revolutions are not effected by the spontaneous rising of a
united people. Beginning in a conspiracy of the few who dare the
attempt it may or may not be to resist a tyranny it becomes a
revolution when the great body of a people are persuaded or
coerced to give it their support or their assent. Such was the Eng-
lish Revolution of 1688. Whatever may have been the faults of
James II. or the house of Stuart, the great majority of the
people of Great Britain and Ireland were not disloyal to their
rule either then or for many years after the house of Hanover
had, on the invitation of a few conspirators, usurped the throne.
In our country the same role was attempted in the insurgent
States, but from a different motive and with different results.
There was at no time prior to the Civil War anything like una-
nimity of opinion in favor of disunion by force of arms. Before
the attack on Fort Sumter, I doubt if there were more than a
respectable minority of the Southern people in favor of seces-
sion. In Virginia it was at least questionable whether the State
would join its ranks. One general, who afterward played a con-
spicuous part in the Confederate service, was, I believe, a mem-
ber of the State Senate when the ordinance of secession was
discussed and adopted. He is credited with having violently op-
posed it, and with having abruptly left the chamber because
he "would not sit there in the company of traitors"! Whether
this was literally true or not I do not know ; it was jsp reported.
But I do know that a few months afterwards he was a major-
general in the Confederate service! Tempora mutantur, et nos

886 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

mutamur in illis was doubtless his plea of justification. Even in
Charleston itself, the crater of disaffection and disunion, the
numerical majority of disunionists was not large, if even its exis-
tence be conceded. But it was powerful and loud enough to
drown the feeble voices of the unionists, all unprepared to cope
with armed and clamorous rebellion. Yet there, even when the
once loyal and peaceable part of the population had succumbed
to what seemed to be the popular will, there were voices in
opposition that would not be silenced. Of this we had a nota-
ble example in old Judge Pettigru. To the last, when young
men would annoy him with reports of Confederate victories, the
old judge would strike his cane upon the ground to give em-
phasis to his reply of " Confederates ! Rebels and traitors ! "
and pass without further comment on the news.

In the fourth year of the Civil War, in company with some
thirty generals, colonels, and majors, I was a prisoner of war
in Charleston. It is due to truth as well as to the Confederate
commander and his lieutenants, to say that we were well treated.
Our " prison " was a pleasant dwelling-house fronting on the
Ashley River and we were guarded, rather than confined, in our
quarters by a small company of infantry. Five generals occu-
pied part of the second story of the house, having their mess-
room on the floor below.

The front room of the suite opened on a balcony overlook-
ing the river and the road along its banks. The road was the
prolongation of one of the streets of the town, and a favorite
drive on summer evenings. It was sometimes a pastime to sit
in the balcony and watch passing carriages ; to note the bearing
of their occupants, which might or might not indicate their sym-
pathy with the prisoners of war on one side of the roadway, or
with the guard upon the other. Of course this was but an idle
pastime of idle men ; but observation suggested inquiries, from
which I became satisfied that at least a large minority of the
people of Charleston were for " the Union." I do not believe
that either the provost-marshal or the captain of his guard was
a secessionist, though they were, in every detail, faithful to
their trust.

What I had observed in southwestern Virginia prepared me
to doubt the unanimity of Southern people in the war for seces-
sion. When on the way from West Virginia to Richmond, the
Confederate major who conducted me and two officers of my
staff to the " Libby Prison," said, on arriving at a certain
point, " Well, I am glad that I can now give you a little more

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 887

liberty. We have reached a part of the country where the
people are all good rebels." We halted to dine at a neat coun-
try house in one of the valleys of southwestern Virginia. When,
after dinner, I offered the landlady a note in payment of my
reckoning, she said : " Wait a moment for your change " ; she
then returned the note I had given, with a glance that said,
" We are Union people."

A cursory examination of their small library had prepared
me to understand such a signal. And though the host was then
talking with the major about the Confederate forces as " our
army," Webster's speeches, holding the place of honor among
books of like character, indicated the political aliment of the
family, and probably their opinions.

My horse had cast a shoe and was threatened with lame-
ness. Our major proposed that I should ride forward to a
smithy half-way up the mountain-side, where the shoe could be
reset and where he would rejoin me before the work was done.
One of his men accompanied me " for appearance' sake." While
the smith was bending over the horse's hoof he turned his
head to see that the guard was not in hearing, and asked : "Are
you the Union gin'ral that was took on a steamboat on the
Kanawha ? " On answering that I was that unfortunate man he
added : " If you could give this fellow the slip and hide in the
woods till dark, and then make your way to the big white
house that you see over my shoulder, you would be safe. All
the people about here are for the Union, though they are afraid
to say so." On my telling him that I had promised not to es-
cape, he said : " Oh ! I'm sorry." I was quite sure, by that
time, that the people of the valley were not "all good rebels."

If my observations in the South gave assurance that its
people were not all good rebels, they were no less decisive of
the fact that there was in the Confederate army a considerable
element of Northern men. When, a prisoner of war en route to
Richmond, I arrived at Dublin, in southwestern Virginia, among
the first to greet my arrival was a general belonging to the
staff of Lee's army. We had been room-mates at the Military
Academy, and were from adjacent counties in Maine. The
" Southern general " expressed his pleasure at meeting me in
captivity ! Only a month before this happy meeting, when, with
two or three officers of my staff- I went from Cincinnati to
West Virginia, we stopped one night at a large country house
in Ohio. Our host earnestly asked : " How long is this war to
last ? My three boys joined the army at the beginning of the

888 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

war. One has been killed, and I am very anxious for the dis-
charge of the two others. I am old and need them at home."
Supposing them to belong to some regiment of my command, I
asked to what corps they belonged. " The cavalry," he re-
plied ; "Forrest's cavalry!" As Forrest's cavalry was " on the
other side," I could not oblige my host by procuring their dis-
charge.

After spending some two months in " Libby Prison " at Rich-
mond, I, with the larger part of the captive officers, was sent
first to Danville, thence to Charlotte, N. C., and thence to Macon,
Ga. Our train was delayed at some point near Columbia, S. C.,
to allow a regiment of Georgia cavalry to pass. It was com-
manded by Colonel M , the only son of that rice-planter from

Pennsylvania at whose place I was a visitor twenty-five years
before.

On arriving at Macon I again met the Connecticut gentle-
man who in 1839 na cl been my travelling companion between
Macon and Savannah. He told me that his sons were " with
the army at the front." He did not seem as cordial as in
former years.

From Macon we were transferred to Savannah, but remained
there but one day and night. Thence we were sent to Charles-
ton, to be, as the newspapers said, under the fire of our own
batteries. Whatever may have been the intention that was the
fact.

At Savannah the five brigadier-generals of our party occu-
pied a house in the arsenal yard. We were seated on the piazza
of the house when several gentlemen came into the yard, and

among them one to whom General W called my attention by

saying "There is Jo L ." Yes, it was he, an old West Point

acquaintance of General W , who came from my own Northern

State, and who had been a visitor at my house a few years
before. He did not see either of us. I confess to being ashamed
of and for him. All the more, perhaps, when a few minutes
afterward he was succeeded by the Confederate general com-
manding the department, who brought his young son to intro-
duce him to his father's old instructor. But the general was
from North Carolina, and perhaps the quondam gentleman from
the North feared to show civility to Northern soldiers ; but we
did not credit him with that discretion.

On being " exchanged " at Hilton Head, in the summer of
1864, I was placed in command of the District of Florida.
Among the first duties, on assuming command, was that of in-

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 889

specting the provost-marshal's office. On his list of prisoners
one name attracted attention, as well from the cause of arrest
disloyalty as from its being the name of a well-known public
man who, more than thirty years before, was a senator in Con-
gress from my own State. I sent for the prisoner, and, telling
him that the " cause of arrest " opposite his name did not seem
to justify imprisonment, unless he had been guilty of some overt
act of hostility, I advised him to be frank with me, as I should,
of course, ascertain all the facts of the case before acting upon
it. He assured me that he had never committed any act of hos-
tility against the United States government. " Of course," he
said, " my sympathies are with my own people." On telling
him what had drawn my attention to his case, he said that he
knew of the senator whose name he bore, but his own family
was of Danish origin. Promising to give immediate attention to
his case, I sent him back to tlie provost guard. On further in-
quiry a writing-desk was produced, which had been brought from
his house at the time of arrest. It was sealed when taken and
the seals were unbroken. In it was found the gentleman's letter-
book, containing copies of letters, in his own handwriting, to
parties in London, Liverpool, the Cape de Verde Islands, and
Baia, on the coast of Brazil all under dates just prior to the
outbreak of the Civil War advising his correspondents that the
South had determined to sever its connection with the Northern
States ; that years must elapse before commercial relations with
them could be restored ; and, therefore, it became necessary to
open new channels of trade for Southern products. He had
given his correspondents a schedule of his property in cotton
and pine lands; the number of his slaves and cattle; his steam
saw-mills for the manufacture of yellow-pine lumber, etc. in
short, all information necessary to show the scale upon which he
was prepared to negotiate for the sale of his products. In a
second interview with the gentleman of Danish extraction, I told
him that it had occurred to me that while his name was un-
doubtedly of Danish or Norman origin, his ancestors might have
come to America by way of England, where they had possibly
remained for a few centuries before crossing the Atlantic. He
was, in fact, a nephew of the senator from Maine, where he was
born and educated. His brother was a colonel in the Confede-
rate army ; so, of course, his sympathies were with his people.
He had deliberately prepared for either the success or failure of
the secession movement. If it succeeded, his foreign correspon-
dents were forewarned of the event. If it failed, an ante nupta
VOL. LIV. 57

890 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

deed of all his real property to his wife would, perhaps, secure
it from confiscation. Northern men with Southern principles
were numerous in the South before the war, and until its result
was foreshadowed. Then it was wonderful to see the number of
" escapes from the rebels." The gentleman of Danish extraction
was not one of these. He at least avowed his sympathy for the
people with whom his lot was cast, though their cause was lost.
There were many of quite another type ; among them two who,
at the beginning of the contest, were active partisans for seces-
sion, but became converts to " loyalty " and " escaped from the
rebels" when their failure was assured. One of them, a lawyer,
returned to Florida as judge of the United States District Court ;
the other as United States marshal. At the outbreak of the
war the marshal had been proprietor of " The Confederate Pack-
ing-House," and was zealous in the recruiting service of the
" Confederacy." Confederate flags floated over his store-house
and dwelling, and the " Confederate Packing-House " even is-
sued scrip of small denominations for the convenience of its
customers. The judge had been an applicant for a judicial office
under the Confederacy, but, by an -accidental delay, failed to se-
cure it.

On taking command of the " District of Florida" I learned
that several confiscations of rebel property had been decreed by
the District Court, and that some of the condemned property
had been sold at auction by the United States marshal. As
martial law obtained in the State, and the confiscations had been
made without the consent or knowledge of the military com-
mander, he did not hesitate to cancel the decrees of the court
and the sales made under them, and to forbid further action in
the premises. He was led to adopt this course on examining
the cases involved on their merits. It was found that one of the
properties sold belonged to an alien resident ; another to a fe-
male orphan who, at the commencement of the rebellion, was
less than twelve years old. The first-named property comprised
several town-lots, on which was a large steam saw-mill for mak-
ing yellow-pine lumber. Its proceeds were about twenty thou-
sand dollars per annum. It was sold as "water-lots" for four
thousand dollars in " greenbacks "! Its hostile character was
proved by the fact that, when the town was occupied by Con-
federate troops, the owner had supplied them with lumber for
military uses! As he could not do otherwise, and as the law of
war makes such supplies legitimate, it is hard to see why the
property should have been condemned. The second was im-

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 891

proved city property, valued at about eighty thousand dollars,
which by the sale would pass to the loyal purchaser for less
than a tithe of its value. In short, it seemed an attempt to
perpetrate a disgusting fraud under the forms of law.

It is worthy of record that the result of an appeal to "the
executive " at Washington, in behalf of " the judicial power co-
erced by a military officer," was an order- from the War Depart-
ment forbidding confiscations and sales of property under pre-
tended confiscations, in the District of Florida, without the
approval of the military commander.

These instances of " Northern men with Southern principles"
are mentioned in no unkindly spirit, but in proof that the Civil
War of 1861-5 was not a war of races, but of sections whose
supposed interests were antagonistic.- If they show that North-
ern men with Southern principles were more hostile to the
Union and its defenders than were their Southern comrades, they
only show the truth.

At last the war was ended : Sherman's continuous successes
in the Southwest, crowned by the defeat of the Confederates be-
fore Atlanta, proved his long march through the South to be
indeed a " fold of the anaconda " by which the older General,
Scott, at the outbreak of the Civil War, had said the rebellion
must be crushed. It so narrowed the theatre of war that, after
Grant's battles of " the Wilderness " and Sheridan's defeat of
the Confederate cavalry, the war was ended. The surrender at
Appomattox was the acknowledgment of an accomplished fact.

A few weeks after Lee's surrender I was again at Tallahassee ;
this time on a tour through the " Department of the South "
for the examination of volunteer officers about to be mustered
out of service. In the twenty-five years since my first visit the
town had not greatly changed in outward appearance ; so little,
indeed, that old landmarks were easily recognized. The hotel
where I was so long an unwilling guest, where I had endured
the pains of illness and experienced the benevolent kindness of
strangers in the guise of friends, seemed little changed, though
its plenishing had not escaped the accidents of war. Some of it
had been sold or carried away captive, and what remained bore
marks of rough usage and neglect. I walked through the fami-
liar streets almost expecting to meet old friends, whose places had
long been occupied not filled by strangers. I entered a ware-
house where I saw what seemed a familiar face, and found, not
an old acquaintance, but his son in a man of middle age. While
inquiring for old acquaintances in Tallahassee a young gentle-

892 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

man appeared at the door and I was invited to come in. He was
the son of that friend with whom I had been so intimate in for-
mer years the friend who fell at Williamsburg.

I called at the house of that friend who spent so many hours
by my bedside, and provided for my needs in illness and conva-
lescence. Where I had been a favored guest when everything be-
tokened refinement and ample means, I was shocked at seeing
unmistakable signs of poverty, with nothing to remind me of
former days save the gentle bearing of host and hostess. My
old friend he was now old in years saw my pained surprise,
though I tried to seem unobservant, and answered it. " Yes, you
see to what we are reduced. Even my household furniture, as
well as lands and negroes all that I owned, except some wild
lands which I have no means to cultivate, is gone. You know
that, like my grandfather, I always disliked slavery. Yet it
seemed a present necessity for master and slave alike. I was
glad to exchange plantations and negroes in Florida for means
to purchase lands and cattle in Texas, where I desired to estab-
lish my sons on stock-farms, that so they might escape the
necessity of holding slaves. I accepted Confederate bonds in
payment for my Florida property, never doubting that they
would be redeemed. Like many others, I regretted the secession
movement, but never questioned the ability of the South to
maintain her independence. I did not believe that the North
would seriously attempt coercion, nor did I for a moment believe
in her ability to effect it. We at the South did not realize her
superior power nor her determination to maintain the union of
the States. But the struggle is over and now old age and pov-
erty have come upon me together. My lot is that of many
others, who, like me, can only bow to adversity, because old
age has neither time nor strength to recuperate lost fortune."
And I had nothing but heart-felt sorrow for undeserved adver-
sity to offer in return for years of friendship and the favors of
the past. The son of a distinguished senator from 'Virginia, when
senators were the representatives of States, and the grandson of
Jefferson, he was a man of such exemplary life, so free from
the animosities of sectionalism, that it seemed hard indeed that
he should be among the victims of unholy civil war the se-
quence of disloyal arrogance and fanaticism.

In view of the fact that the South had never been united on
the question of State sovereignty as held by the extremists of
South Carolina, that Virginia and Kentucky had, in former years,

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 893

given positive indications of their desire to be rid of slavery,
whose existence implied the social degradation of a large class of
their free people, it is hard to understand how the Southern
States could have been united in a war for its support. Could
the conflict have been confined to those who engendered strife,
war to the death had been a blessing undisguised to the North
and South alike. But in the Southern armies there were thou-
sands who did not approve secession who fought, and fought
bravely, to repel invasion, and in defence of home and kindred.
In those of the government thousands who had hardly more
sympathy with fanatical abolition than with slavery fought to
crush treason in arms against the state. These, on either side,
fought the battles of the war, while others, who had been
active to promote dissension and make compromise impossible,
remained at home to criticise defeats and reap the fruits of
victory.

We raise monuments in honor of those who died in war,
often with so little discrimination of their merits that they seem to
have been raised rather to glorify the living than to honor the
memory of the dead. But there is a class of men who periled more
than life in the defence of the government to which they had sworn
allegiance, who have met with little reward or recognition for
faithful service. I mean those Southern men who, not seduced
from their allegiance by the doctrine of State sovereignty, re-
spected their oaths as soldiers when every other consideration
urged them to join the ranks of secession. It is simply true that
they were not given that consideration and confidence to which
they were fairly entitled, and yet they were faithful and brave
soldiers of the Republic. Names need not and should not be
mentioned here. Only a few days ago I sat by the death-bed of
one of these ; he was a model soldier, for whose efficient service
in organizing and arming the volunteers of Illinois, where he
chanced to be resident at the outbreak of the war, its legislature
gave him a vote of thanks. He was chief of artillery under
Rosecrans and Buell in the West. He did attain the rank of
brigadier-general, and total blindness, in recompense of faithful
service ; that was all.

Some fifteen years ago I met in Brooklyn another of the dis-
tinguished graduates of West Point, a brigadier-general, retired
in some inferior grade ; I asked if he had been home since the
war. " Oh, yes !" he answered, " I am at home all the time ; I live
in Street. If you mean Carolina, I have not been there ;

894 THE SOUTH BEFORE, DURING, [Mar.,

for that is no longer a home to me. I have near kindred there,
but none that would speak to me if we should meet. Yes/'
said he, " it is a little hard to be kept in the background, re-
fused confidence, refused promotion, because you come from
a ' rebel State,' and then find yourself rejected by your own
family because you were faithful to the government that would
not trust you." He, too, is dead. These, and such as these,
were the real Martyrs and Confessors of the Republic in the
Civil War. It would be significant of belief in loyalty as some-
thing higher than partisanship, if honors were bestowed on those
who bore the pains of martyrdom under suspicion and neglect.
But after the battle dead heroes too often became the prey of
living vultures.

The reconstruction of the insurgent States involved more
than the resumption of federal relations, or a return to the
status quo ante bellum. Industrial conditions were changed ; slav-
ery was abolished, by which the great productive industries of
the South were for a time impaired, and the necessities of war
had made manufacturing too important and too profitable to be
abandoned on the return of peace. Prior to the war Southern
industry was planting. Products for export were cotton, rice,
sugar, and tobacco. Indian corn, fruits, and early vegetables
were grown abundantly for home consumption and Northern
markets. Mechanical industries were inconsiderable and in low
repute. Even implements of tillage, as well as textile and other
fabrics for personal and household uses, and products of skilled
labor of every kind, came chiefly from the North.

While slavery existed there was a fancied dignity attached
to the condition of Southern planter, to which " distance lent
enchantment." He sometimes spoke of his negroes as " my peo-
ple," almost en prince. The principality was not, indeed, of high
degree, but high enough to inflate pretentiousness and degrade
free labor. At home the negroes were well cared for by good
masters ; with others, they were sometimes but half-clad and ill-
fed slaves. Abroad, at the North, and in other countries where
they were referred to as " my people," the planter posed as a
" Cedric the Saxon," and the negroes were his " thralls." But
the descriptions of negro servitude given by fanatical writers,
though truthful delineations of gross abuses incident to slavery,
were slanderous and false as portraitures of Southern life. Not
less false and mischievous were the descriptions of low cunning
and dishonesty to Northern artisans and tradesmen, because of
the trickeries of chapmen and pedlars. Both were essentially false,

1892.] AND AFTER THE WAR. 895

but with enough of incidental truth to give currency to offensive
falsehood, and engender sectionalism and distrust ; to prepare
the " Southern heart " for the repudiation of " federal sovereign-
ty," while Northern zeal appealed to " higher law." Thus to
the extremists of either section the Constitution was only a bond
of union, which those of the North were willing to amend and
those .of the South were determined to destroy.

Southern industries were certainly in marked contrast with
those of the North. That financially they were less prosperous
is evident from the fact that, at the outbreak of Civil War, the
South was so largely indebted that the confiscation of debts was
mooted as a possible resource of the " Confederate " treasury.
This may have been only an apprehension of Northern creditors.
But, if the South was not financially prosperous when her labor-
ers were property and employed with due regard to economy, it
seemed impossible that prosperity could soon follow the loss of
millions in the value of enfranchised slaves. But the twenty-five
years since the close of the Civil War have demonstrated not
only the possibility but the fact. The extinction of slavery has
changed the industrial conditions of the South and initiated
other industries which, in the near future, must largely influence
the domestic and foreign commerce of our country. By limiting
industrial enterprise in the South to the capacity of slave labor,
resources of perhaps greater magnitude remained undeveloped
and almost unknown. The mountain regions of West Virginia,
Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, and Georgia are rich in
minerals. Iron, coal, and salt are abundant. The coal-fields of
this region cover thousands of square miles. The "salines" of
the Kanawha and eastern Kentucky, now but partially developed,
might be made to yield abundance of the finest salt for the
dairy and the table. The marbles of Tennessee and upper
Georgia are among the richest in the world. They have for
some years been wrought, but their development is as yet an
enterprise rather than an industry. Rivers whose waters are
sluggish and muddy in the low-lands near the coast are, for
many miles from their sources, clear streams, broken at frequent
intervals by falls and rapids, which could afford motive-power
for a score of Lowells. The mountain slopes and their foot-hills
might afford pasturage for herds of cattle and flocks of sheep.
The vine flourishes on these Southern mountain-sides, and the
grapes are of richer flavor than those grown farther north. In
fact, all fruits produced in temperate climates might be culti-
vated with profit. The narrow valleys do not give acreage for

896 THE SOUTH. [Mar.,.

extensive agriculture, but they are wonderfully enriched by the
washings from the mountains ; and the crops of corn and pota-
toes, of melons and other garden fruits and vegetables, might
afford ample supplies for a population a hundred-fold greater
than it is to-day.

When, some years before the Civil War, I lived in the moun-
tain region of West Virginia, and, again, when for two years I
was in command in the Military District of Kanawha, I had
every facility for becoming acquainted with the country and its
resources. It seemed almost unaccountable that it had so long
remained neglected and nearly inaccessible, while the cotton
grown in the low-lands of Carolina, Georgia, Florida, and Alabama
was sent hundreds and thousands of miles away, to be exchanged
for manufactures whose materials are here where nature has pro-
vided unlimited facilities for their fabrication.

It is evident that a raw material carried through long distances
by land and sea to be manufactured must be enhanced in cost
by the expense of transport and the interest accruing upon its
value from the time of production to that of sale, and that the
fabrics made from it must be subject to a like tax before they
reach the consumer. What is there to compensate for the time,
labor, and use of capital expended in the long journeys to and
from the loom and the plantation or the workshop and the
mine?

Our country is too vast in extent possessing almost every
variety of soil and climate and the more useful minerals in rich
abundance to make that a wise policy which requires the ex-
pense of time and labor needed to develop its resources in
going to and fro across the ocean, to barter the products of the
land for fabrics that might better be wrought at home. It will
not be so always.

E. PARKER SCAMMON.

1892.] THE MIRACLES AT LOURDES. 897

THE WITNESS OF SCIENCE TO THE MIRACLES AT

LOURDES.*

THIS interesting book has already run through eleven edi-
tions. The author, a physician in good professional standing,
learned, sincere, and fair-minded, has thoroughly studied the ac-
counts of instantaneous cures which have taken place at Lourdes
in the past thirty years, and proves conclusively that they can be
attributed only to a miraculous cause, and that as facts they
rest on evidence which cannot be upset. In his preface Dr.
Boissarie states that the facilities afforded by the medical bu-
reau established at Lourdes have enabled him to observe atten-
tively the doings of the pilgrimages which have come there dur-
ing a period of five years ; that he has read everything that has
been published about Lourdes ; that he has analyzed between two
and three hundred certificates of cures, and that he and fifty or
a hundred other physicians as well have been eye-witnesses of
cures scientifically inexplicable. As an illustration of the aver-
ment that a belief in miracles offers no insuperable obstacle to
the human understanding, he quotes a forcible passage from Pas-
teur's reception discourse before the Academic Frangaise. The
orator, after dwelling on the infinity of space, added : "Whoever
affirms the existence of infinity, which none can avoid doing, ac-
cumulates in such affirmation more of the supernatural than there is
in all miracles and in all religions. The notion of the infinite
has a two-fold character : while it compels assent it is beyond
comprehension."

Dr. Boissarie considers that the history of Lourdes from the
nth of February down to the present day may properly be divid-
ed into four principal periods :

The first relates only to the apparitions seen by Bernadette
and what she went through.

The second comprises all those cures which took place under
the cognizance and scrutiny of Doctors Dozous and Vergez, and
also the work done by the commission of inquiry.

The third begins with the publication, in 1868, of the Annals,
and extends down to the present time.

In the fourth we have the latest investigative studies made
by the Bureau des Constatations (verification of alleged facts), un-

* Lourdes : Histoire Mddicale. 1858-1891. By Dr. Boissarie. Paris: Victor Lecoffre.

THE WITNESS OF SCIENCE TO [Mar.,

der the direction of Dr. de St. Maclou, the establishment of a
clinique at Lourdes for the purpose of observing and diagnosing
cases while the great pilgrimages are there. Dr. Boissarie states
that he was a member of this clinique in 1888, 1889, and 1890,
and that he was in company each year successively with twen-
ty, twenty-two, and thirty other members of the medical profes-
sion. Dr. Gros, then in his eightieth year, formerly attached to
the hospital at Boulogne, had enrolled himself among the volun-
teer infirmarians.

The Annals, which at present fill twenty-two volumes, are pub-
lished monthly, the Journal de Lourdes weekly. Every formal
statement of instantaneous cure is drawn up by a physician and
is accompanied by a certificate and appertaining proofs. For
ten or fifteen years past and now the national pilgrimages, often
numbering one thousand or fifteen hundred patients, are
under the direction and care of the Fathers of the Assumption,
who, before starting, attend to the drawing up of the rough and,
at times, very instructive preliminary statements of each case.
One of the fathers and one of the missionaries of* Lourdes attend
during the investigation of cases and write down, under medical
dictation, the particulars obtained.

As to conviction about the nature of the wonderful instan-
taneous cures, medical minds in France have separated into three
classes. One, numbering over three hundred in France, of which
Doctor Dozous and Professor Vergez, of the medical faculty of
Montpellier, were the pioneers, believes them to be miraculous;
another admits that they are unprecedented in the annals of
medical science, in contradiction to all medical experience, and al-
together inexplicable by any natural cause whatsoever. The re-
maining class set their faces against the conclusions arrived at by
the two preceding, and try to controvert them by alleging, in an
obstinate and unfair spirit, explanatory natural causes. Certificates
of previous diseased condition of patients applying for them have
been unreasonably withheld or drawn up in an unsatisfactory
manner. An instance is cited of the certificate given to a woman,
a hopeless invalid for six years in the hospital of La Salpetriere ;
no mention was made in it of the fact of her deafness in conse-
quence of a suppuration of long continuance from her ears, both
drums of which were in consequence perforated. Some of these
obstinately denying medical men asserted that Bernadette was
under an hallucination compatible with the exercise of reason,
and a certain Dr. Voisin, of La Salpetriere, even went so far as
to publish in the Union Medicate of June 27, 1872, the statement

1892.] THE MIRACLES AT LOURDES. 899

that Bernadette, whom he had never seen, was confined as a
lunatic in the convent of the Ursulines at Nevers. This was
promptly shown to be false by the Bishop of Nevers, who, in a
letter addressed to the Univers, stated that she had never been
in that convent, but in the mother-house of the Sceurs de Chari-
// et de ^instruction chre'tienne, where she waited on the sick and
where Dr. Voisin was invited to interview her. A Mr. Artus
offered Dr. Voisin to forfeit ten thousand francs if he could
prove his allegations, and finally Dr. Robert St. Cyr, the attend-
ing physician of the institution last mentioned, testified in writing
that Bernadette was of perfectly sound and well-balanced mind,
in nowise tending to insanity, and a quiet, reliable, and effica-
cious infirmarian. Dr. Voisin made no reply to the exposure of
his false statement, and thus meanly avoided the mortification
of withdrawing it, as he was in honor bound to do. The next
ground taken by these doctors, so obstinate in their unbelief, was
to assign hypnotism and fraudulent instigation connected with
it, hysteria and extraordinary nervous action, as explanatory
causes/ But Dr. Boissarie points out that at Lourdes there
never are cases of patients set to sleep by hypnotism ; it would
not be permitted ; and he demonstrates at length and minutely,
quoting the words of numerous other members of the profession
in agreement with him, that the contention is wholly untenable
because it is preposterous to endeavor to account on any such
grounds for the spontaneous healing and cicatrization of malignant
ulcers, abscesses, tumorous cancroid, and others ; for the prompt
disappearance of complicated chronic diseases of the eyes and
instantaneous return of perfect sight ; for the sudden restoration
to health and strength of consumptives in the last stage, having
cavities in their lungs becoming so well filled up that they ceased
being discoverable by auscultation, and for the prompt heal-
ing of many cases of organic diseases given up by attending
physicians as incurable. In this book we find narratives with
more or less particulars of miraculous cures taken from the
Annals of Lourdes, nearly every one of them attested by compe-
tent medical testimony. These include upwards of fifty various
inveterate chronic diseases : twenty-seven of phthisis ; twenty-three
of cancers, tumors, fractures, and ulcers ; two of obstinate dis-
eases of the eye, two of chronic malady of the stomach, one of
nervous disorder, two of hysteria, one of phthisis complicated
with another grave trouble, and one of relief from the morphine
habit, which last Dr. de St. Maclou would not class as a miraculous
cure, but only as a natural phenomenon brought about by a

THE WITNESS OF SCIENCE TO [Mar.,

special grace from God. Dr. Boissarie had under his sole care a
case of wonderful recovery, but waited fourteen years before
making up his mind to mention it. He had attended for many
months a Sister of St. Vincent de Paul afflicted with a severe
disease of the stomach, which rejected all food and could not
even retain a tablespoonful of water. She had reached the last
stages of debility and marasmus. Every treatment he tried was
in vain, and he was obliged to give her up and lost sight of her.
About the end of 1871 she, in blooming health, full of vigor
and the animation of new life, called upon him in company with
the superioress of her community, who informed him that his
former patient had gone to Lourdes with a pilgrimage and had
been suddenly healed there, and application was made to him
for a certificate giving such testimony as he could about the
case. The doctor declined to gh*e it. Only thirteen years had
then elapsed since the apparition in the grotto, and he was fear-
ful of -what the profession might think and say if he were to
append his name to the document asked of him.

A brief mention in conclusion of a few particularly striking
cases selected from the many related in the book, and of much
later date than those of which Henri Laserre has given account,
seems to me not out of place here and likely to be interesting
to readers.

Pierre Delannoy, during six years prior to the 2Oth of August,
1889, had been sixteen times under treatment for locomotor
ataxia in eight Paris hospitals. The diagnosis of his case was
certified by fourteen physicians, the celebrated Dr. Charcot head-
ing the list, all agreeing that it was locomotor ataxia. The pa-
tient had been subjected to the suspension process fifty times,
had been cauterized with red-hot iron oftener ; issues also had
been tried upon him, but all these without any successful result.
He had passed into the third stage of the disease, designated by
Charcot as " the paralytic period." On the 2Oth of August, 1889,
he was on his knees in the grotto of Lourdes, from time to
time kissing the pavement, exclaiming aloud, " Our Lady of
Lourdes ! heal me, if you please and judge it needful." Just as
the Blessed Sacrament was being carried past him he felt a keen
sensation of new strength prompting him to get up and walk,
which he found to his great joy he could do without any diffi-
culty or pain, and that he had recovered the perfect use of his
legs and co-ordination of his movements. Since then, during a
national pilgrimage, Delannoy has worked with the stretcher-
bearers, who carry patients from the hospitals to the piscinae,

1892.] THE MIRACLES AT LOURDES. 901

and none of his co-laborers were quicker or more agile than he.
In order to establish his identity he called four times in one
week at the Hopital de la Charite, and then and there astounded
the attending physicians, who telegraphed back to Lourdes " that
he could walk as spry as a rural postman." Dr. Petit, professor
in the medical school of Rennes, after minute scrutiny of the
case, declares that " only by the direct action of God could such
a cure have been effected."

The case of Father Hermann, the distinguished Jewish con-
vert, is one of the earliest recorded in the Annals. His eyesight
had been failing for a year. He tried entire rest and mountain
air without avail, and had to give up reading altogether, not ex-
cepting even that of his breviary. He consulted a celebrated
oculist of Bordeaux, who, after a very careful examination of his
eyes, pronounced the trouble to be glaucoma, and proposed an
excision of the iris. Father Hermann preferred to have recourse
to a novena in the grotto, at the close of which, on All Saints'
day, while intent on reciting his last rosary, he suddenly felt
that he was cured. His eyes were restored to a perfectly sound
condition ; he could stand sunlight or gaslight, which he could
not do at all before, and could read as much as he needed with-
out using glasses. He died two years afterwards of black small-
pox in the fortress of Spandau, while in charitable attendance
on the French prisoners of war confined there.

James Toubridge, an English Catholic, was hopelessly para-
lyzed in both legs from what is known in medicine as " Pott's
malady." He was besides afflicted with abscesses and wide-spread
sores, and an unceasing cough which showed that his lungs were
affected ; death seemed for him inevitable and very nigh. He
was brought to the hospital of Lourdes in company with other
pilgrims on the 2Oth of August, 1879. After having heard Mass
and received Holy Communion in the grotto, to which he was
borne on a stretcher, he was carried to the piscina and immersed
in it three times, and a fourth time of his own accord. He
came out so well and vigorous that, after returning thanks in
fervent prayer, he dressed himself without assistance and walked
oft carrying the hand-bag and blanket which he had brought
with him. Drs. Thorens and MacGeven, both Protestants, were
witnesses of his instantaneous recovery, and congratulated him
upon the blessing obtained. Later on in Paris, where he had
found work, a Protestant minister, after having heard him tell
his story, told him earnestly, " Your faith has saved you !"

The devotion to our Lady of Lourdes is very popular and

902 THE WITNESS OF SCIENCE TO [Mar.,

wide-spread in Belgium. Her sanctuary most in renown is that
of Lourdes Oostacker at a small town near Ghent, established at
the expense of a generous Belgian lady of rank and wealth,
who had in view to provide for the devotion of the poor who
could not afford the outlay needed for a pilgrimage to Lourdes.
On the i6th of February, 1867, Pierre de Rudder, a workman
and a native of Jabbeke in western Flanders, was on his way
home from work and stopped to have a chat with some acquain-
tances of his who w r ere felling trees by the roadside. He was
resting his foot on a fallen tree when another one, very unex-
pectedly taking an unforeseen direction, fell upon it and broke
his leg about four inches below the knee. He was carried home
suffering intense pain. Dr. Affenaer, of Oudenberg, set the leg
and applied the usual bandages. Five weeks later a large sore
broke out on the foot, the bones became diseased and would
not unite. Dr. Affenaer, having done his best, gave up the case.
The poor sufferer then called in Dr. Jacques and afterwards Dr.
Verriert, both of Bruges ; these having also been unsuccessful,
three other surgeons, respectively from Stabille, Varsena, and
Brussels, were applied to with no better result. Pierre lay in bed
an entire year before improving enough to be able to drag him-
self along on crutches. This condition of suffering and se-
vere lameness lasted eight years and two months. The ends of
the fractured bones were then a little over two and a half in-
ches apart, and could be plainly seen at the bottom of a con-
stantly suppurating sore. The lower part of the leg merely
held on to the upper part ; his foot could be hoisted in any di-
rection, and could be bent back upwards as high as the knee.
He had been pious from early youth and very devoted to the
Blessed Virgin, and, having heard of the wonders taking place
at Lourdes Oostacker, determined to go there, and reached his
destination despite the great difficulties in his way. After having
painfully tried to follow the pilgrims along the usual path, he
dragged himself on his crutches to rest on a seat opposite the
statue of the Virgin Immaculate, and there, begging pardon of
God for all the sins of his past life, he implored our Blessed
Mother to obtain for him healing of his diseased limb, so that
he might be able to work for the support of his wife and family.
While thus praying he felt a strange inward commotion in his
entire being ; he got up without using his crutches, glided through
the benches before him, and knelt before the statue. Then, after
a few moments of bewilderment and prayer, he recovered his
consciousness and became aware that he was on his knees and

1 892.] THE , MlR A CLES AT LO URDES. 903

was without his crutches, which he subsequently left at the grot-
to. After his return to his home at Jabbeke, Dr. Affenaer ex-
amined his leg and, shedding tears, told him : " You are radically
cured ; your leg is as sound as that of the healthiest new-born
babe ; all human remedies were powerless, but Mary can avail
where all physicians have failed."

Sister Julienne was admitted, when nineteen years old, into
the monastery of St. Ursula, at Brives, in France, after spending
eight years in an orphan asylum at Sarlat. While in the house
last named she had indications of a feeble, lymphatic tempera-
ment, and was troubled with a chronic inflammation of the eye-
lids and of the conjunctiva. In the monastery she was assigned
to the duties of sister-servant, having to attend to out-door mat-
ters, and got to be very well known in the town. In 1886 she
had an attack of bronchitis joined with a general debility of the
system. She grew worse, had to remain in bed for three months,
fly-blisters were applied to her chest, and, as her symptoms had
developed into phthisis, it was thought advisable to have her
try a change of air by stopping for a month at Sarlat. On her
return to the monastery she resumed her usual occupations, but
in October, 1887, she began spitting blood abundantly, and had
to take to her bed and not leave it from that time until August,
1889. All this while her disease made rapid progress, and
was diagnosed by the attending physician as phthisis in the
fourth stage, commonly known as " galloping consumption/' ac-
companied by bleeding of the lungs, and a cavity in the upper
part of the left one. During this stage of her illness she was
consumed with a high fever ; she could take nothing but bouillon
and milk, and her death was apparently a question- of a few
weeks or days. She did not desire to live, did not care about
trying Lourdes, although she had a firm presentiment that she
would be cured if she went there ; but finally yielded to the request
of the mother-superior, who got Dr. Pomarel's consent to the under-
taking only upon the express condition that he was to accom-
pany the patient on the journey. She left Brives on the 1st of
September, 1889, and arrived at Lourdes in such a moribund
condition that the lady attendants at the piscina at first refused
but finally consented to immerse her in it, near which she lay
motionless, voiceless, almost unconscious, and in a profuse sweat.
She was then undressed, lifted into the water, and looked as if
she was about to die on the spot. She was lifted out, her right
side not having been immersed, and was laid on the adjoining
steps. Just as the assistants thought it all over with her a faint

904 THE WITNESS OF SCIENCE TO [Mar.,

color came to her cheeks ; her eyes opened, her chest expanded,
she sat up, and then stood up, saying that she felt better. She
refused to remain seated, dressed herself without assistance, and
went to the grotto, where she remained half an hour in prayer.
On her return to Brives, entirely recovered, she was welcomed by
an enthusiastic crowd which filled all the room in the .railway
station ; six physicians attested the diagnosis of her case, seven
attested her instantaneous return to health ; Dr. de St. Maclou
auscultated her lungs and could not discover traces of even the
slightest congestion ; they were perfectly sound.

Dr. Chetail, of St. Etienne, had attended Miss Montagnon, a
dropsical patient, for twelve years, during which period he had
recourse to puncture eleven or twelve times, each time removing
twenty-two litres (over twenty-three quarts) of water without any
successful result. The abdomen, after each operation, filled up just
as before. She began a novena to our Lady of Lourdes, put a
compress of Lourdes water on the diseased part, fell asleep, and
awoke cured. Her abdomen, previously so protruding and dis-
tended, had returned to normal size and was entirely empty.
There was no show of water either in the bed or on the floor,
nor of any way by which it could have run off. " Who can
tell me," afterwards wrote Dr. Chetail, " where this consider-
able volume of water went without leaving any trace whatever ?"

Celestin Dubois was at service in the family of Mr.
Heriot, cashier of the Bank of France branch at Troyes. On
the 6th of October, 1879, while washing a skirt with soapsuds,
she ran a needle that was in the skirt straight into the base of
her thumb on the palm-side/ that part called in anatomy the
elevation of the thenar. Her mistress tried to draw it out by
the projecting end, but broke it off short in the attempt, one-
half of the needle remaining in the flesh. Celestin applied to
several physicians in Troyes, but none were willing to undertake
its removal. Two years afterwards she called on a Dr. Hervey,
who cut into her thumb, kept the incision open with gentian-
root, and during five or six weeks endeavored several times to
extract the needle, but in vain, so firmly was it embedded in the
flesh. For seven years Celestin suffered at times great pain,
had great difficulty in getting through her work, could not bear
to have her hand pressed, and had to wear a very wide sleeve
for it. In 1886 she made up her mind to have recourse to our
Lady of Lourdes, and set out on her journey on the i/th of
August, 1886, after having obtained from Dr. Hervey a certifi-
cate reciting the case, its duration, and his connection with it.

1892.] THE MIRACLES AT LOURDES. 905

She arrived there the 2Oth of the same month and went straight
to the grotto. Some one having suggested to her to go to the
piscina, she dipped her now doubled-up hand in the water and
kept it there just long enough to say a Hail Mary. No result.
Then Mrs. Recoing, of Troyes, met Celestin, and took her into
a smaller, well-lit room, called the piscina of smaller baths. Ce-
lestin dipped her hand in a pail of Lourdes water, and, shrieking
with pain, immediately withdrew it. Then Mrs. Recoing caught
her wrist and held it in the bucket for two minutes. She
shrieked, her face was wet with tears and perspiration, and when
her hand was withdrawn its fingers were flexible, but the thumb
remained half bent Then Mrs. Recoing dipped the hand a
second time and kept it there for a minute, Celestin suffering
and shrieking all the while. After the hand was withdrawn it
was perfectly free, and the needle could be discerned under the
skin of the lower thumb-joint. Mrs. Recoing then dipped
the hand in a third time, keeping it in the water half a minute,
and when she drew it out she saw the needle projecting three-
eighths of an inch out of the end of the thumb and drew it out
with ease. The whole thing took only four minute.s. Four
physicians, including Dr. Boissarie, carefully examined Celestin's
hand, and with the naked eye, as well as with a magnifying-glass,
could perfectly distinguish the course, two and one-quarter inches
long, which the needle had taken. The movement of the needle
could not be accounted for by them nor by their confreres of
the hospital of Troyes, and an ecclesiastical commission which
made minute investigation of the case came to the conclusion that
there was no room whatever to suspect perpetration of fraud.

Devotion to the Blessed Virgin has now spread to Constanti-
nople.

This apparition at Lourdes and the abundant miracles following
upon it may well be considered as the greatest of the many great
events of the present century now so near its close ; and France might
well humbly pour forth exultation to God in the words of the Psalmist :
" He hath not done in like manner to every nation."

The text of the book contains, in its four hundred and forty-
four pages, many medical terms not intelligible to ordinary
readers. The table of contents consists of useful tabulated refer-
ences, but I cannot help thinking that the pages might have
been condensed into a much less number without at all impair-
ing their value. And since Henri Laserre's book has been trans-
lated into so many languages this one of Dr. Boissarie's well
deserves to be translated into English. B.

VOL. LIV. 58

906 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Mar.,

THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW.

THE efforts recently made by working-men to bring about in-
ternational co-operation have proved for a second time unsuccess-
ful. In our last notes we referred to the strike of the miners in
the north of France, and to their disappointment in not having
been supported as they expected by the English miners. This
month we have to record the defeat, after a long struggle, of
the strongest union on the Continent of Europe that of the
German Printers and Compositors. In this case the unions of
Great Britain did not prove altogether faithless, for over fifteen
thousand dollars were sent by them to Germany. The United
States also rendered assistance. But the sympathy felt was
not sufficient to draw forth subscriptions large enough to main-
tain the men in their struggle with the united forces of the
employers. As a matter of fact, the help afforded proved a
misfortune, for by the prolongation of the strike the masters
were enabled to find substitutes, and many of the strikers have
been left without employment.

Many causes are assigned for this failure, and it would be
idle for us at this distance from the scene of conflict to pretend
to determine the real cause. We cannot help thinking, however,
that this defeat may be attributed in part, at least, to the dis-
trust of strikes as a suitable method of settling disputes ^a dis-
trust which is evidently gaining strength and influence over the
minds both of the employers and the employed. The disinclina-
tion is made manifest by the reports on the skilled labor market,
which are prepared each month by the labor correspondent of
the British Board of Trade. ' The reports for the last two
months show a remarkable diminution in the number of strikes,
for in the month of December the number decreased by one-
third in comparison with the previous month. The same thing
is shown by the report just issued of the London Conciliation
Board. From this it appears that the efforts of the board
during the first twelve months of its existence have been almost
unceasing on account of the applications which were continually
being made, and the arrangements arrived at for the preventing
of strikes and lock-outs. Everything, according to this report,
points to the future development of the conciliation movement.

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEE*? FROM THE NEW. 907

No fewer than sixty trade-unions are now more or less connected
with the London board, and have accepted its principles by
sending delegates to its various meetings, by means of which
they were brought into contact with employers of labor, and a
mutual good feeling between both has been promoted and en-
couraged. So great has been the success of the action of the
board that it has been encouraged to develop its procedure.
Instead of acting only at the request of one or both of the
parties, the board will in future take the initiative and offer its
assistance or mediation to both parties at an early stage in a

dispute.

In yet another case conference and discussion have averted
a conflict which would have involved nearly one hundred
thousand men. In South Wales the rate of wages has for many
years been regulated almost automatically by a sliding scale.
As the price of coal went up so did wages, and vice versa. Of
course the mutual satisfaction of both parties depended upon
their being in agreement as to what should constitute the basis of
the scale. With the basis as hitherto existing the masters grew
dissatisfied, and gave notice to terminate all engagements under
it. So long has it been since a strike took place that fears were
great that the younger generation of workers, who had not had
practical experience of the hardships involved in a large strike,
would not be willing to consent to a change. Better thoughts,
however, prevailed. The men appointed representatives and
agreed to abide by their decision. After long and anxious con-
ferences, which lasted for ten days, between these representa-
tives and those of the employers, an agreement was concluded
for a sliding scale upon a new basis ; and work, which had been
stopped for one day, was resumed. This success will tend to
strengthen the confidence which is beginning to be felt in dis-
cussion and conference as a mea/is of settling disputes.

In Belgium, with the same object of obviating strikes, a law
establishing Councils of Industry and Labor has lately come into
force, and, although these councils have no compulsory powers
and can only effect their object by means of discussion and per-
suasion, they have within the last few months succeeded in
averting conflicts on a large scale at Liege and Seraing. A few
years ago the industry of Belgium was paralyzed by a series of
strikes. This measure had for its object, in the words of its
proposer, M. Frere-Orban, " the preventing of strikes from degen-
erating into civil war," and was described by him " as an effort

908 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Mar.,

for protecting the workman from dreamers who dazzle him with
irrealizable ideas, from the fools who would lead him astray, and,
most of all, from the knaves whose object it is to get their living
out of him." The business of the councils is to deliberate on the
common interests of the employers and employed, and to prevent
and, if possible, smooth away such differences as may arise be-
tween them. Under the authority of the government any dis-
trict of the country may establish a council, and each important
industry forms a section of this council. Members of the council
are elected by ballot for three years, one-half being chosen by
the masters, the other by the men. The authorities provide
rooms for the council to meet in and make all necessary
arrangements for the comfort of the members, in addition to
which a small daily allowance is made to each member while
actually engaged in the work of the council. t^The advantage of
these councils consists in their affording a court always fitted by
the special technical knowledge, and, it is to be hoped, by the
individual character, of its members, to exert an influence over
the interested parties, and to make the dictates of reason and
prudence prevail over those of passion and short-sighted selfish-
ness.

The position of power and influence occupied at the present
time by English working-men may be illustrated by a few facts.
No less than forty seats in Parliament at the approaching elec-
tion will depend upon the support promised or refused by candi-
dates to the movement for limiting the hours of labor for miners.
The feeling against sweating is so strong that to accuse a firm
of employers of this practice brings such a loss of custom that,
in the event of the accusation being false, substantial damages
would be allowed in a court of justice. The clearest illustration,
however, is afforded by the manifestation of popular grief called
forth by the, death of Cardinal 'Manning. This manifestation is
undoubtedly a sign of the extraordinary change which has taken
place in the position of the Catholic Church in England in
recent years ; but it would be an overestimate of the strength of
that position to think that the tribute was paid directly to the
church. If the truth must be told, it was in spite of his being
Catholic that he was so honored ; and the most that can be said
is, that prejudice has to such an extent been removed as to
admit of such honor being paid to a Catholic archbishop and
cardinal. As one of- the canons of St. Paul's Cathedral said :
" We have almost ceased to remember how resolute and sharp

1892.]. THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 909

was the war that he, a Roman of the Romans, waged in mid-
life against the church he had forsaken, so deeply have we
learned of late to honor and revere in him the devoted adherent
of all high causes, the ally of justice, and of charity, and of
heroic sacrifice under whatever form humanity gave them birth ;
the friend and lover of the poor." To this feeling must be attri-
buted the fact that the cardinal's death called forth manifesta-
tions of regard which have rarely, according to the London

Times, been paid in the present generation to any public man.

As we have mentioned Cardinal Manning's action with refer-
ence to the labor movement it may be of interest to learn that
the settlement of the historic dockers' strike of 1889 was entirely
due to him. A Radical member of Parliament who was present
states that when the cardinal entered the room where the repre-
sentatives of the men were assembled, not a hand would have
been held up in favor of the compromise which the cardinal had
come to propose. But he spoke, he pleaded, he wrestled with
the men, and at last his personal eloquence and his lucid argu-
ment brought conviction to every mind. And according to
the same testimony, since that time only a few behind the scenes
know how much he has been consulted and how much he has
done to prevent disputes culminating in strikes. To the poor he
was a friend in need and a friend indeed. To quote from Bish-
op Hedley's funeral sermon: "Many have seen him with the
people in some room where chance had brought him in a shed,
perhaps, or a warehouse, or a bare school-room, far from the
quarters of the rich on a winter's night, discussing, by the fog-
dimmed light, with men who stood and sat around him anyhow :
men straight from the street, the work-shop, or the river-side,
their faces too often whitened with want and sometimes danger-
ous with passion discussing, attending, questioning, suggesting,
and then finally, with the dignity of his years and his priesthood,
holding the assembly silent by the light of his idea and the
tones of that earnest voice." The tribute paid by working-
men to the cardinal may be concluded in the words of one of
their own writers in the leading organ of the labor movement :
"Ah! well, I'm sorry for the Prince of Wales and family, who
have lost a son; and I'm also sorry, oh! so sorry, for the people

of England, who have lost a father in Cardinal Manning."

But to return to our illustrations of the position held by
workers in England at the present time. They are able, in many
cases, not merely to secure a fair proportion of the proceeds

9io THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Mar.,

of their toil, a proportion varying with the prices in the market
of the product, but they claim and enforce the right of being
heard in the settlement of such prices. Certain coal-owners
having made contracts with railway companies at prices lower
than those agreed upon by the Coal-owners' Association, their
colliers gave notice of a demand for an advance in wages, as a
practical intimation that they were going to have a voice in
the disposal of what they helped to produce, and that they
intended to have wages enough to keep them in health and
strength, and to give their wives and children a better future
than they themselves had ever possessed. To these demands
the employers were obliged to give heed, but we have not learned
the outcome of the.lr deliberations. Other signs of the power of
the working-man are, unhappily, some abuses of this power. Cer-
tain circulars have been issued by secretaries of trade-unions
which have been found actionable in the courts, and have been
condemned by the more responsible members of the unions.
Another instance of the same spirit is the renewal of the con-
flict between the unions of engineers and of plumbers on the
Tyne. A dispute has arisen as to the allocation of work to the
members of those unions ; arbitration has been tried, but the
defeated party refused to accept the decision. Of the action
of employers no complaint is made, and because two rival
unions cannot agree thousands have been thrown out of employ-
ment, trade hampered, and perhaps even permanently driven
away. So that it would appear that even in cases in which the
workman is master of the situation we cannot be sure of perfect
peace and quiet.

The position of the working classes in Russia has a special
interest. For in that country the entire power is theoretically,
but by no means actually, in the hands of one man, and at the
present time his empire presents the pitiable spectacle of hundreds
of thousands of his subjects upon the verge of starvation, while
millions of money are being squandered in military armaments
armaments which are the chief cause of the general disquietude
of Europe, and of the necessity of similar expenditure on the part
of the other powers. A report lately published from the British
embassy at St. Petersburg gives information respecting the nor-
mal condition of the artisan and laboring class. In Russia no
such associations as trade-unions exist, and the law punishes
with the utmost severity all attempts on the part of the em-
ployed by means of strikes to force the employer to increase his

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 911

wages. Wages, consequently, are extremely low. Sufficient infor-
mation, however, does not exist to enable an exact comparison
to be made with the wages in other countries ; but a Russian
economist has calculated that while an English cotton-spinner,
working 10 hours a day, earns 70 roubles a month, the Russian
cotton-spinner, working 12 hours a day, receives only 19^ roubles.
Of course, as in all such comparisons, the difference in the price
of food, clothing, and rent must be taken into account, and of
this we have no information.

There is no law restricting the hours of adult labor, and
there is a great difference in the hours of various establishments,
for they vary from 6 to 20 hours daily in the same industries
and even in the same districts. In the large majority of cases
the hours of labor are 12 or under, and it is said that, taken all
round, '12 hours may fairly be assumed as the normal working
day in Russia. There is no legal provision for Sunday labor, but
as a rule there is no work on Sunday or on about 28 holidays
throughout the year, making 80 days in all. This is one of the
brighter points in the workman's lot. If we add to it the fact
that the law enforces payment of wages in money, and that any-
thing like the truck-system is absolutely prohibited, we have
given a complete account of this brighter side ; for, although in-
spection of factories exists, yet owing to distance and to the
difficulties of communication, as well as to the absence of per-
sons with the requisite technical knowledge, the system is not in
a satisfactory condition.

Cardinal Manning in the beginning of his episcopate wrote
these words : "A Christian child has a right to a Christian edu-
cation ; a Catholic child has a right to a Catholic education."
L'ittle did his Eminence foresee that this principle would be
affirmed and made the basis of legislation in the country which
has since been the scene first of the apparent victory and then
of the defeat of the Kulturkampf. On the very day of the car-
dinal's death a bill was introduced into the Prussian Diet by
Count von Caprivi, the Minister-President, to render compulsory
the instruction of every child in the religious faith of its par-
ents. According to the school system as hitherto organized,
out of 1,700,000 Catholic children 1,600,000 are being educated
in Catholic schools. But if this bill becomes law, any school
which has sixty children of a different religion from that of the
majority must, and any school which has thirty may, make sepa-
rate provision for their education. Further, all schools hereafter

9i2 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Mar. r

founded must contain only Catholic or Protestant children, and
all teachers must be of the same religion as the children. The
bill goes even further in its requirements. No child, even in
the smallest schools belonging to any religious body recognized
by the state, is to remain without religious instruction, and this
instruction is to be given by a teacher of its own creed. The
clergymen charged by the respective religious bodies with the
superintendence of religious instruction have the right to be
present while this instruction is being given, may convince them-
selves by questions that the pupils are making progress, and at
the close of the lesson may correct or advise the teacher. In
Catholic parishes the priest is charged with the superintendence
of religious instruction. By these provisions not only does the
Prussian state recognize the necessity of religious instruction,
but also, according to the statement of the German chancellor,
the necessity of that instruction being definite and dogmatic in
order to its being real and worthy of the name. The home of
Hegel, Feuerbach, and Schopenhauer recognizes formally the in-
sufficiency, even for state purposes, of a purely moral education
not founded on Christian principles.

The foregoing are the proposals with reference to the reli-
gious bodies recognized by the state, for in Prussia the state
claims for itself the right to exclude from recognition bodies of
which it does not approve, or of which the number of the adhe-
rents is insignificant. What provision is to be made for the
children of parents who belong to some one of these unrecog-
nized bodies ? For these it is proposed that they must take
part in the religious instruction of the schools which such chil-
dren attend, unless the parents are able to satisfy the authorities
that they will give proper religious instruction at home. These
regulations will apply to Methodists, Unitarians, and Old Catho-
lics, as these bodies have no official recognition. And what about
the children of free-thinkers and unbelievers ? How are they
to satisfy the authorities that their children are receiving reli-
gious instruction at home ? For them the bill makes no provi-
sion, and, as the object of the emperor in causing the bill to
be introduced is to extirpate irreligion and unbelief, the only
course open to persons of this class is either to forfeit public in-
struction for their children or to submit to their receiving reli-
gious instruction in the schools.

Doubtless the advocates of secular education will make a
great outcry, and accusations of bigotry and intolerance will re-

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 913

sound far and wide. But among those who know the real spirit,
as manifested by their actions, of such advocates, these outcries
will provoke something like derision. For the world-wide exclu-
sion of religion from tax and rate supported schools is mainly
their work and that of a large number of short-sighted religion-
ists. A good example of the intolerant spirit of secularists is
being afforded at the present time in England. To supply the
need of London for a teaching university a charter has been
approved of by the Privy Council Committee, incorporating Uni-
versity College, King's College, and some half-dozen medical
schools under the name of the Albert University. But because
one of these colleges is associated with the Church of England,
and requires that the larger number of its professors should be
members of that church, the Liberation Society and various other
bodies of dissenters are offering to the granting of the charter
strenuous opposition, although they have in University College
a college and in the medical schools institutions without any re-
ligious tests. Although no endowment is to be given from the
taxes to the new university; although even to the college in
question students of every creed or of no creed are admitted,
these "liberals" prefer that what is looked upon as a crying
want should remain unsatisfied, rather than that a college which
has religious tests should share the privilege of conferring de-
grees. And yet these very men have no scruples in posing
before the world as the defenders of liberty, freedom, and tolera-
tion !

Should any doubt exist as to the ingrained intolerance of
unbelievers and secularists, a statement of their legislative acts
where, as in France, they hold the power, will be sufficient
to remove it. However ready we may be to admit that there
was provocation, no real and genuine lovers of liberty could so
far depart from their principles as to pass laws such as have
been passed during the last twelve years by the Republic. Reli-
gious instruction has been excluded from all examinations of
youth. Ministers of religion are deprived of the right of watch-
ing over the instruction ; they can no longer cross the threshold
of the elementary schools. The teachers are permitted and even
encouraged not to take their children to catechism or church.
They are forbidden to allow the catechism to be studied in the
school, even out of school-hours. Prayers have been abolished,
the crucifix removed from the schools; men and women belong-
ing to any order have been expelled from schools and hospitals;

914 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Mar.,

and the movement for separation of state and church includes
the confiscation of all the gifts bestowed upon the church during
the last century and a standing and permanent incapacity to
hold real property. Such is the character of recent national and
municipal legislation in France ; and what a wonderful and striking

contrast it presents to the measures now being taken in Germany !

The relations between church and state in France, which some
little time ago seemed upon the point of being established upon a
friendly basis, have unhappily become strained almost to breaking
point. This is due to the malevolent action of the late government
in forbidding the bishops to take part in the pilgrimages of the
working-men to Rome, and to the prosecution of the Archbishop
of Aix for so-called disrespect to the constituted authorities.
This -prosecution gave reason for anticipating the abandonment
by the clergy and the Catholics of France of the policy of con-
ciliation. To this abandonment the former government, by the
speeches of its members, did everything in its power to contri-
bute. In fact, the ministers seemed to fear nothing so much as
the hearty adhesion of Catholics to the Republic, for that would
mean their own displacement by more responsible and worthy
men. And so M. de Freycinet, who is more distinguished for
adroitness than courage, except when he has to deal with those
whom he considers weak, declared that he would take no steps
towards reconciliation. Consequently a bill has been introduced
for bringing associations both secular and religious more com-
pletely under the control of the officials. This bill provides for
the dissolution of every society by a decree of the government
in case of its containing a majority of foreigners among its
members, of one or more foreigners among its directors, or, if it
is a branch of a foreign society, of its recognizing a head resid-
ing abroad. It further provides that societies shall only possess
such property as is necessary for the accomplishment of their
object, and donations cannot be made to them, but only to a
member personally. Any member is entitled at any time to
withdraw, and to reclaim the return of the sums paid by him,
even if they have been expended to his own advantage.

But notwithstanding the efforts made by the late holders of
office under the Republic to alienate the bishops, and notwith-
standing the schemes of royalists to entrap them, the policy of
adhesion to the republican form of government has been stead-
fastly adhered to. In a joint manifesto the cardinal-archbishops
of France have laid before Catholics the duty of a frank and

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 915

loyal acceptance of political institutions, and of fidelity to elec-
toral duty in order to secure for the country true representatives
of the will of the nation. They insist upon respect being paid
to the laws of the country, except where they violate conscience,
and also to the representatives of authority. The Archbishop of
Bordeaux, in a circular prescribing prayers for Parliament, says :
" It must not be forgotten that the crown of our kings is
now on the brow of the people. The origin of the government,
humanly speaking,, rests in the people. Consequently everything
depends upon the will and temper of the people." It would
seem, therefore, that there has taken place a definite acceptance
of the existing form of government, and that the efforts of
Catholics are to be directed to the securing of legislation favor-
able to the church and to the repeal of the anti-religious legis-
lation of the last decade. We have every hope that this recogni-
tion of accomplished facts, late and tardy though it may be,
will lead to a happier era for religion in France.

There seems to be reason to think that a coolness has super-
vened upon the ecstatic warmth of the affection of France for
Russia, and of Russia for France. With a view to gratify Rus-
sia and to further her projects in the Balkan, diplomatic relations
with Bulgaria were broken off by France. Instead, however, of
meeting with the expected gratitude, the Russian press disclaimed
all responsibility for such proceeding, and warned the French
that the famine and the efforts to relieve it absorbed all the
energies of the empire, and that they wished to be spared every
complication abroad. On the other hand, the advances made by
Russia to obtain in France a new loan have been coldly received
by the financiers of Paris. In fact, the loan recently issued, al-
though vaunted at first as a great success, was such only in ap-
pearance, and is now at a discount. As this renders more secure
the prospect of peace for Europe it cannot but afford satisfaction
to all outsiders. The fearful famine which is ravaging some twenty
of the Russian provinces contributes to the same result. But the
sufferings it involves to so many poor peasants is so great that it
is almost impossible to find in its consequences, good as they
are, matter for consolation. One of the most harrowing and des-
olating features connected with the famine is the heartlessness
which has been brought to light of traders and merchants. Grain
destined for the supply of the wants of the famishing has been
found to have been adulterated with every kind of rubbish to
such an extent as to be unfit for food and even in some cases

916 THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. [Mar.,

injurious. The cruelties which man exercises toward man in
war are bad enough, but it would almost appear that those
which greedy traders exercise in peace are worse. There is, at
all events, something manly and noble in dying in battle at the
hand of the enemy compared with being poisoned and starved by

avaricious fellow-countrymen.

The maladroit proceedings of the French ministry have resulted
in its downfall. It was unwilling to take a definite and intelligible
position with reference to the church. On the one hand, it
would take no steps for the formal separation of church and
state, as advocated by M. Clemenceau and the radicals. On the
other hand, it would not respond to the conciliatory advances of
the bishops, but insisted upon .treating the clergy as hostile, and
as salaried officials bound to submit to orders. Consequently
they failed to meet with support from either side, and fell when
they least expected. It has had the distinction, however, of
having remained in office for nearly two years, a period almost
unprecedented since the establishment of the Republic. As a
rule there has been a new ministry every year ; in some years
two or three. The chief service which the late government
rendered to the country was the decisive suppression of the
Boulangist movement. For this the gratitude, not of their own

country only but of the whole of Europe is due.

The German emperor clearly has complete confidence in the
power of legislation and of state law to remedy social evils. We
hope his confidence may prove by results to be fully justified,
and, should this happen, that reformers and workers for the pub-
lic well-being in other countries may be led to follow his exam-
ple. Not content with promoting the school education bill, by
means of which he hopes to combat atheism and irreligion ; nor
with the bill for the suppression of drunkenness, introduced with
the object of rooting out intemperance and the evils which follow
in its train, a bill has been laid by his orders before the Federal
Council for the repression of public immorality. It will be
remembered that last October a decree was made by the emperor
by which the police were ordered to stamp out with unsparing
severity the class of persons called " souteneurs." Since its pub-
lication this decree has been largely acted upon. Several hun-
dred of these infamous characters now lie in prison, and whereas
formerly three months imprisonment was regarded as an adequate
punishment, five years penal servitude has been meted out to
them. The government, however, the police and the judiciary,

1892.] THE OLD WORLD SEEN FROM THE NEW. 917

are not satisfied with the powers already possessed, and this new
bill has been introduced in order to enable them to extirpate
more effectually a form of vice which is at once a shame to
humanity and a danger to the state. There is, moreover, one
admirable feature about the German system that a law when
once made does not remain a dead letter ; officials in Germany
are trained to obedience and to fidelity in the performance of
the duties for which they draw salaries.

A ministerial crisis has taken place in Portugal as well as in
France. The former ministry has resigned, and a new one has
been formed. The country, in fact, is on the verge of bankruptcy.
The man who held the position of minister of finance, and of
whom much was expected, seems to have betrayed his trust,
and to have taken part in some very dubious transactions. Por-
tugal, backward though it is in many respects, seems to possess
its share of robbers disguised as men of business. The new
ministry has frankly taken the country into its confidence, and
has called upon the citizens to make substantial sacrifices to avert
the crisis. To this appeal a response has been made. The king
has restored a fifth of the income allotted to him, officials have
been taxed from five to twenty-five per cent, according to the
amount of their salaries. An income tax of twenty per cent, is
to be imposed ; and the project of selling the colonies has been
revived. If the nation perseveres in the spirit in which it has
begun, there is reason to hope that the impending disaster will

be averted. In Spain what seems like undue severity towards

the anarchists who made a raid upon Xeres has caused manifes-
tations of grave discontent among working-men. In Austria, on
the other hand, the extreme leniency of the emperor towards
criminals of the worst sort seems to promise impunity for the
greatest malefactors. Elections have taken place for the Hun-
garian Parliament, but no question of vital importance arose, and
the liberal ministry will be nearly as strong as heretofore. The
prosperity of the empire-kingdom is such as to warrant the mak-
ing of serious efforts to return to metal currency in substitution
for the paper money which has been in use for many years.
The most conspicuous evidence of the activity of the Italian
government has been the suppression of the telegrams respecting
the health of the Pope a proceeding characteristic of " liberal-
ism " and worthy of the power which claims to be the successor
of the Caesars. It may prove a warning to those who would en-
large the sphere of state control.

9i8 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

THE most obvious reflection suggested by the " history " *
of Mrs. Humphrey Ward's new hero is, that had he enjoyed a
real existence outside of her imagination, neither his psychological,
theological, nor practical importance to the world at large would
have secured him more than the briefest of biographical memoirs,
even supposing them to secure him any at all. Assuredly, five
hundred and seventy-six closely-printed pages would never have
been deemed his just due by publishers or readers, and as lead-
ership was distinctly not in his line, there could have been no
admiring and generous disciple found ready to portray him at
such heroic length.

A kindred suggestion is that, had the concept of him as it
now stands been worked up by a novelist pure and simple, de-
serving on his merits of such popularity as Mrs. Ward gets
through a mere fluke the accident of an anti-Christian prepos-
session which chimes in with the tastes of those who set the
literary fashion of the day his history would in that case
also have been shorter, less disjointed, and cut up by fewer epi-
sodes like " Daddy's " long-drawn antecedents and " vegetarian
parlor," and the Regnault business in David's Parisian experi-
ences. Let us say, too, that had she been a wiser woman in
her own generation, a more skilful antagonist of historic Chris-
tianity, a more knowing advocate of " knowledge " as opposed
to superstition, tradition, and a credulous " desire to believe "
what one would like to be true, Mrs. Ward would never have
committed to cold types David's theory of how the " Resurrec-
tion stories " grew into their present form. This, in fact, is such
a characteristic bit of the stuff of which the " higher criticism "
is woven that we must needs quote it. It occurs near the end
of the novel. David has recently lost his wife through the rava-
ges of sarcoma, an incident which gives occasion for one of
those neat mosaics of miscellaneous but veracious information
which contribute so much to the length and importance of Mrs.
Ward's work. Chapters seven, eight, and nine of what must
have been the third volume of this novel in its English form,
furnish a nice little study of malignant lymphoma combined

* The History oj David Grieve. By Mrs. Humphrey Ward, author of Robert Elsmere.
New York and London : Macmillan & Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 919

with domestic affection and Unitarianism in such generous pro-
portions as make it entirely surpass in general interest such pure-
ly technical information as a mere medical text-book would sup-
ply. Lucy dies of her fleshy tumor after an unsuccessful opera-
tion, and David, whose love for her has in its final and best es-
tate risen to a compassionate affection, narrates in his journal a
dream in which he thought he saw her in a wholly lifelike and
familiar way. " There seemed," he says, " to be a strange mixed
sense at the bottom of my heart that I had somehow lost and
found her again." And then comes this astounding passage,
which does such honor to and reflects such light upon Mrs.
Ward's comprehension of the thing she calls science, and her
qualifications for estimating the critical habit and culture of
the first two centuries :

" When I came back nurse was there, and everything was
changed. Nurse looked at me with meaning, startled eyes, as
much as to say, ' Look closely, it is not as you think.' And as
I went up to her, lying still and even smiling on her couch,,
there was an imperceptible raising of her little white hand as
though to keep me off. Then in a flash I saw it was not my
living Lucy ; that it could only be her spirit. I felt an awful
sense of separation and yet of yearning ; sitting down on one of
the mossy stones beside her, I wept bitterly, and so woke, bathed
in tears."

The italics in the paragraph below, which immediately follows
that just quoted, are our own :

"... It has often seemed to me lately that certain ele-
ments in the Resurrection stories may be originally traced to
such experiences as these. / am irresistibly drawn to believe that
the strange and mystic scene beside the lake, in the appendix
chapter to the Gospel of St. John, arose in some such way. There
is the same mixture of elements of the familiar with the ghost-
ly, the trivial with the passionate and exalted which my own
consciousness has so often trembled under in these last visionary
months. The well-known lake, the old scene of fishers and fish-
ing-boats, and on the shore the mysterious figure of the Master,
the same, yet not the same ; the little, vivid, dream-like details of
the fire of coals, the broiled fish, and bread, the awe and long-
ing of the disciples it is borne in upon me with extraordinary con-
viction that the whole of it sprang, to begin with, from the
dream of grief and exhaustion. Then, in an age which attached
a peculiar and mystical importance to dreams, the beautiful, thrill-
ing fancy passed from mouth to mouth, became almost immediate-
ly history instead of dream just as here and there a parable mis-
understood has taken the garb of an event was after a while

920 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

added to and made more precise in the interest of apologetics or
of doctrine, or of the simple love of elaboration, and so at last
found a final resting-place as an epilogue to the fourth Gospel."

Could Colonel Bob Ingersoll do better than that in the way
of special pleading, covert insinuation, and suggestion founded on
nothing better than a stubborn prepossession against the possi-
bility of both miracle and revelation ? Look at the question-
begging in the remark about the " age which attached a peculiar
and mystical importance to dreams." It would be as just to call
the present an age which attaches a peculiar and mystical im-
portance to table-rapping and ghost-stories, and cite the " Pro-
ceedings of the London Psychical Society " in evidence ; or an
age noted for its achievements in higher criticism, free investiga-
tion, critical habits of mind, and so on, and produce " Robert
Elsmere," " David Grieve," Professor Huxley, and Ernest Renan
as supplying sufficient justification of the brag.

Returning to the book on its merits as a novel, it is to be
noted that Mrs. Ward betrays again that sort of contempt for
her own sex which seems to be based on her appreciation of
" intellect " as an almost purely masculine prerogative. With the
exception of " Louie Grieve " surely as detestable a figure from
first to last as was ever drawn of one woman by another her
women, from Catherine Elsmere down, are good but " slight, "
as she would say ; their strength is the characteristic stubborn-
ness of their femininity working on a foundation of irrational
creed ; they may have common sense, they must have a power
of self-sacrifice if they are to win her commendation ; but they
may not, as far at least as Mrs. Ward has yet gone in her pre-
sentation of them, have anything resembling clear intelligence.
A female Unitarian, won hardly from the morass of orthodox
Christianity, she has not yet tried her hand on except under a
veil, one hastens to add. Her men are not so distinctively mas-
culine that they could dispense with a label in a land where
clothes were epicene. She is just enough in her delineation of
such narrow virtues as she allows a Dora Lomax, but she can as
little refrain from a slur upon what she deems the secret self-love
of a fanatical woman as from a kindred depreciation of the intel-
ligence and strength of men like her own " Ancrum," who have
so strong a leaning toward the Christ of orthodoxy that their in-
evitable end is with "Newman " and "authority." One gets the
word of this enigma (the secret is hinted in the old injunction
" Know thyself ") by comparing the passages we subjoin. The
first is Mrs. Ward's personal appreciation of the sacrifice of her

1892.] , TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 921

own love in favor of Lucy's which she describes Dora as making.
The second describes, in David's own words, his genial attitude
toward ignorant orthodoxy. And if the same note of complacent
superiority, based on assurance of the possession of " funda-
mental truth," does not ring in both, our ear is out of practice.
Dora sinks down on her knees after an inner experience com-
parable to " Jeanne d' Arc's visions," and makes a consecration
of herself to " the mysterious sanctity and sweetness of the sin-
gle life," a step which to the ordinary student of her history
would seem more meritorious had there been evident in David
at any time the slightest inclination to woo her. She offers up
her love that it may be burnt " through and through with the
fires of the spirit."

" Lucy should never know and David should never know.
Unconsciously, sweet soul, there was a curious element of spiri-
tual arrogance mingled with this absolute surrender of the one
passionate human desire her life was ever to wrestle with.
The baptized member of Christ's body could not pursue the love
of David Grieve, could not marry him as he was now without
risk and sin. But Lucy the child of schism, to whom the mys-
teries of church-fellowship and sacramental grace were unknown
for her, in her present exaltation, Dora felt no further scruples.
Lucy's love was clearly * sent 'to her; it was right whether it
were ultimately happy or no, because of the religious effect it
had already had upon her."

And now for David, whose mental poise and far-reaching
sympathies inevitably suggest that Mrs. Ward studied them in a
moral mirror, as Dickens studied the facial expression of the
passions he wanted to portray in the friendly expanse of an
ordinary looking-glass.

" I have read much German during the past year, and of
late a book reviewing the whole course of religious thought in
Germany since Schleiermacher, with a mixture of exhaustive in-
formation and brilliant style most unusual in a German, has
absorbed all my spare hours. Such a movement ! such a wealth
of collective labor and individual genius thrown into it produc-
ing offshoots and echoes throughout the world, transforming
opinion with the slow inevitableness which belongs to all science,
possessing already a great past and sure of a great future.

" In the face of it " (italics ours) " our orthodox public, the
contented ignorance of our clergy, the solemn assurance of our
religious press what curious and amazing phenomena ! Yet proba-
bly the two worlds have their analogues in every religion ; and
what the individual has to learn in these days at once of out-
VOL. LIV. 59

922 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

ward debate and of unifying social aspiration, is * to dissent no
longer with the heat of a narrow antipathy, but with the quiet
of a large sympathy?"

The new Sairit-Amand treats of the daughter of Louis XVI.
and Marie Antoinette, taking up the story of her life on the
day when her mother left the Temple for the Conciergerie,
August 2, 1793, and continuing it to that on which, as Marie
Therese of France, Duchess of Angouleme,* she returned in tri-
umph to France, in the train of Louis XVIII., at the time
of the first Restoration, April 24, 1814. It is a sad and painful
story, whose almost sole relief comes from the high and heroic
virtues of the saintly Madame Elisabeth and her youthful niece
and pupil. The latter, imprisoned in the Temple with her
family at the age of fourteen, spent nearly fifteen months in soli-
tary confinement there, ignorant of the fate of her mother and
her aunt, and ignorant as well of the fact that her unhappy
little brother, most ill-fated of all the Capetian race, was suffering
almost every agony that could be inflicted on a child by mean
and stupid cruelty in the room beneath her own. There is no
relief at all to the pitiful tale of that infant's death in life. His
sister had courage, energy, the memory of a noble example by
which she had been mature enough to profit ; she had books ;
she had soap and water, and could at least keep herself clean ;
a certain respect was shown her youth and innocence ; she had
space to move about in ; she had the habit of prayer and the
other habit of obedience which kept Madame Elisabeth's
precepts of moral and physical hygiene in full force after
Elisabeth's head had rolled from the scaffold. The boy, a
bright and healthy child of seven when [imprisoned, had no
means of defending himself, at first from the barbarity of Simon
his jailer, and afterwards against the unbroken solitude, the filth,
the invading and conquering disease which harried him out of
life and into a nameless and never discovered grave by the time
he was ten. A more piteous and heartrending figure than his it
would be hard to find in the pages of all history. One break,
indeed, a real and lasting one, moreover, in the gloom of Marie
The"rese's life, occurs in the story of her marriage. Domestic
happiness, saddened by childlessness, but brightened to the end
by that real and faithful love which is the true crown and spe-
cial virtue of marriage, was her one unmixed joy in life. Aus-
tere, religious, blameless except, as in the case of Madame

* The Youth of the Duchess of Angouleme. By Imbert de Saint- Amand. Translated by
E. G. Martin. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 923

Lavalette, for a harsh lack of mercy, the history of which does
not occur in the present volume, and which one can understand
more easily than pardon, Marie Therese Charlotte, Duchess of
Angouleme, is like a piece of sculpture, beautiful, perfect, but
cold. The Temple chilled her to the marrow, perhaps. And yet
it left the love of country a love so bound up, indeed, with
love of family that it recalls the phrase of an ancestor of hers
" The state ; that's me " an invincible passion in her breast.

Pierre Loti * is an Academician at last. And small wonder.
The ineffable charm of a style which subtly penetrates through
the barriers put up by one translator after another, and
triumphantly vindicates itself at the end of each passage, might
well insinuate itself through the possibly denser medium of
native and contemporary judges of what constitutes a valid
claim to filiation with "the Immortals." And Loti longs all
the more for that immortality which books confer, because, as
he says himself, the sole spiritual reason one has for writing at
all is the craving to struggle against death. What a horror,
what a dread of death he has ! What an animal loathing and
reluctance, comparable indeed, as he himself compares it, to that
of an ox smelling kindred blood at the entrance to .the sham-
bles, and resisting the more highly developed animal who leads
him thither with all his puny impotence ! What a blank anni-
hilation it seems to him ! With what a cat-like tenacity he
holds on to places, to things, to early associations, and natural,
inevitable loves ! And what a contrast, sharp, characteristic, and
wonderfully suggestive between this survival of the mere instinc-
tive animal in him, shown more pathetically than ever in the
sketches which make up this volume "more my real self," he
says, " than anything I have yet written" and the other Loti
who reveals himself, with the whole potentiality of reason, will,
and conscience inevitably upon him, and consciously struggling
back from it into instinct alone, as in the story of " Loti's Mar-
riage " ! How kinder he is to the " mangy cat," whose trouble
he shares and sympathizes with, than to the soul of Rarahu,
whose immortality and responsibility he does not believe in !
But he is great to read, and, as we think, harmless, at all
events in the present volume. But let those who are on the
verge of death, and who fear it, leave all his books unread. To
some of us, on the other hand, he gives a fillip of reaction, and
puts as it were a jest against the " King of Terrors " into our

* The Book of Pity and of Death. By Pierre Loti (of the French Academy). T. P.
O'Connor, M.P. New York: Cassell Publishing Co.

924 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

mouths much as Mrs. Humphrey Ward's chief boon to us is
an intensified adoration and more vivid perception of the Word
made Flesh.

Mr. MacCabe has produced a really well-constructed and well-
written historical novel.* A certain stiffness of style marks it,
especially in its earlier chapters, but that is probably due to the
constraint of the rigid lines laid down for the novelist who aspires
to be a historian and an antiquary as well as a purveyor to
modern tastes. The time chosen is the last quarter of the elev-
enth century, when Henry IV. of Germany was in the height of
his struggle with Pope Gregory VII. The heroine is his unhappy
wife, Bertha. The tale is full of stirring incident, and makes an
altogether commendable addition to the " Historic Library" of
its publishers.

The Cassells have added to their '" Unknown Library" Saqui
Smith's rather clever story, Back from the Dead, f originally pub-
lished in the New York Sun. Another of their issues, Indian
Idyls, \ is prefaced by somebody with certain hints to the effect
that although the stories it contains may remind the reader of
Rudyard Kipling, yet they were, written " long before that gift-
ed author, began to write" ; that there is " a more human ele-
ment " in them, " more love in their love-affairs and more pathos
in their sorrows." In short, the prefacer kindly acts both as pur-
veyor and taster to the feast. It is not such a bad feast that
one might not have got through it on its own merits, had not
his palate been so needlessly stimulated. Except on the ground
of locality there is no manner of resemblance to Mr. Kipling's
work. Does any other work resemble his ? What a ringing,
swinging piece of verse his Tomlinson is, by the way.

The ideas underlying the Apostolate of the Press are too
germane to any discussion or appreciation of current literature
to permit us to omit reference here to the recently issued
pamphlet containing the addresses and papers read at the first
Convention held with that Apostolate in view. Every paper in
it is well worth careful study, and many of them are admirable
both in suggestion and expression. We should like to call
especial attention to the Rev. Joseph H. McMahon's paper on
Parish Libraries, so full is it of practical advice, sound criticism,

* Bertha ; or, Pope and Emperor. By William Bernard MacCabe. Boston : Thomas B.
Noonan & Co.

t Back from the Dead. By Saqui Smith. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

% Indian Idyls. By an Idle Exile. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

The Convention of the Apostolate of, the Press. Held in Columbus Hall, New York City,
January 6 and 7, 1892. New York : The Columbus Press, 120-122 West Sixtieth Street.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 925

and serviceable hints. When we shall have in working order
such a scheme of co-operative parish libraries as is here outlined,
and when more of our better-read, thoughtful, and zealous Catho-
lics wake up to the fact that the. call of the Holy Ghost in our
day is more than ever to individual and lay effort, based on a
recognition of the intelligence which supplies the rational basis
of faith, we shall see an upward movement all along our lines.
In connection with Father McMahon's paper the lessons of Mr.
James Britten's letter shouM be taken to heart, and those of the
kindred topics discussed by W. F. Markoe and Judge McGloin.
Readers of this magazine have already had the opportunity of
reading Dr. William Barry's article intended for the Convention,
and the thoughtful essay of Judge Robinson, of Yale University.
They will find Mr. Lathrop's paper equally suggestive in some
ways more so. Miss Conway's brilliant little essay appeals with
especial force to all concerned in the production of Catholic
periodical literature of whatever grade, and thus to men and
women equally. But those employed in certain branches of the
diffusion of this literature mainly women thus far will find
most helpful hints, expressed, moreover, in an engaging and
straightforward manner, in Miss Emma Carey's paper on " Read-
ing in Penal Institutions " and a letter from Sister Mary Austin,
of the Sisters of Mercy. But no one at all interested in one of
the greatest and most characteristic works of our own day should
fail to get and read this pamphlet. That is hardly the name for
it either, as it makes a book rather larger than THE CATHO-
LIC WORLD. But it is bound in paper covers, is printed with
admirable clearness and correctness, and costs only twenty-five
cents.

A novel with a curiously impossible yet coherent plot, and
a still more curious special pleading in favor of doing evil that
good may come, accompanied by a frank acknowledgment that
no good can really be hoped from such doing, is called Ruling
the Planets* The plot hinges upon a likeness between two
persons, one dead and one living, so strong as to deceive a fond
mother, affectionate sisters, an adoring betrothed bride, a family
lawyer, and several other persons, although it fails to impose
upon a pet dog belonging to the dead man. The deception is
initiated for the best of motives by the most upright and kind-
hearted of men, a physician in large practice, whose only sister
had been the fiancee of the deceased Herbert Fanshawe ; it is
carried out in a purely self-sacrificing and disinterested way by

* Ruling the Planets. By Mina E. Burton. New York : Harper & Brothers.

926 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

Stephen Maurice, the dead man's double. And when all is
done, the several complications worked out, the fortune jeopard-
ized by Herbert's untimely death rescued from the hospitals that
were to have been residuary legatees, and all at no greater cost
than an apparently harmless deception which really furthered
instead of thwarting the true wishes of a stupid testator, the
whole turns out to have been unnecessary. The end desired
could have been attained without it. But then, of course, one
novel the less would have been constructed. The story is told
with much elaboration and is entertaining in a mild way that
will endear it to many readers who depend on fiction for most
of their amusement.

In Rose and Ninette* t WL. Alphonse Daudet has put himself
on record against divorce, but in a characteristic way. His hero,
a successful dramatist, has been divorced just two weeks from a
wife of eighteen years' standing, when the story opens. He is
still in the great joy of freedom from a yoke which has been
galling, and has been so without fault on his part. True, for
the sake of his two daughters, whom he loves with a true
fatherly affection, and whose future he does not want to com-
promise, he has allowed himself to seem the sinner. Madame,
whose reputation is uncompromised, and by collusion with whom
on the part of her husband and a friendly magistrate the divorce
has been obtained, presently marries the cousin who has been one
of the causes of domestic unhappiness. But only one of the causes
' the chief is madame herself, a cold, vain, mean, and insincere
creature, studied, apparently, from the same model as that used
by Daudet when he created the terrible wife in One of the
Immortals. Regis de Fagan, the ex-husband, soon falls in love
with his landlady, an apparent widow with a charming boy of
ten, and is congratulating himself upon, his tardy good fortune
in having met a sincere, frank, honest, and virtuous woman with
whom he may find the pure home-life he has always craved,
when he learns that her husband is still living. One day Mad-
ame Hulin tells him the story of her remediless separation from
her husband. But when he counsels divorce, she will have none
of it. She is Catholic ; her " dear mother called divorce a sacri-
lege, and I myself, brought up with her ideas ' in short, the
thought is repugnant to her. However, it is not the religious
objection on which Daudet lays stress, but on the impossibility
of a real separation of interests between people who have been

* Rose and Ninette: A Story of the Morals and Manners of the Day. By Alphonse
Daudet. Translated by Mary J. Serrano. New York : Cassell Publishing Co.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 927

married and become parents. De Fagan ends by finding the
miseries he endured in his legitimate family merely intensified
by the separation which has weakened his rights over his
children without weakening his love for them or lessening his
care. " Ah," he says to Madame Hulin, when the suicide of her
husband has left her a widow, " when one has children, divorce
is not even a dissolution of the bond." There is no solution of
domestic difficulties but endurance the integrity of marriage rests
on foundations too deep to be shaken without plunging society
itself into the abyss. They say that Daudet reckons this his
greatest novel. If so, he is not gauging it by an artistic but a
social standard. As an object-lesson it has its uses, and in point
of presentation it is entirely clean. It would not be true to call
it wholly Christian in its purpose, but it is doubtless sanatory.

The best " all round " novel we have read in many a day is
Mr. Barrie's Little Minister* The scene is laid in Thrums, where
one would like always to keep the gentle dominie of the Glen
Quharity school-house, since there he sees and tells of so many
delightful things unrecorded elsewhere. Few of the Thrumsmen
who contributed to the fun and pathos of his previous book are
met with in this. Tammas the humorist and Gavin Birse the
postman stand almost alone, and alas ! the latter forgets to drop
a word concerning Mag Lowney and what happened after she re-
fused to "let him aff."

But whereas the other book was but a collection of sketches
strung on the slightest thread of personality rather than of story,
this has everything essential to a complete novel : an excellent
plot, abundant incident, characters that live and breathe and act
from their own initiative, a charming story of true love, just thrown
into sufficient relief against a lower but yet not a base passion,
as people ordinarily count baseness, to show what manner of
man he is who tells it, and a delightful humor which is provo-
cative of nothing but honest laughter. The scenes between Ga-
vin and " the Egyptian " are perfect in their way, which is the way
of a religious, pure-hearted, utterly unsophisticated man with a
maid almost as soulless as Undine, infinitely more amusing, and
as ready to take color from what is good. One finds Gavin very
fortunate in the chance that threw him in the gypsy's way, and
reflects that even the Auld Licht pulpit would not have been too
heavy a price to pay for her. Yet one rejoices also in the
strong, admirable scene on the island, where Gavin's faith in God

* The Little Minister. By J. M. Barrie, author of A Window in Thrums. New York :
United States Book Co.

928 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

and his manliness in the face of death so overpower the Auld
Lichts of Thrums that they condone even his marriage to a
gypsy over a pair of tongs, and with a fearful joy, as over one
who had come back from the grave, reinstate him in triumph as
their spiritual leader. These pages are full of wise, witty, and
tender sayings, and of flashes of insight into the heart that as-
tonish one more, coming from a man so young, than the brillian-
cy and dash, and air of knowing everything without having
learned it, that are so marked in Mr. Kipling's still more preco-
cious work.

I. THE CANON OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.*

This erudite and valuable work is the result of long and ar-
duous labor by its venerable author, the Bishop of Erie. Its
main object is to prove that the authority to determine the
canon of Scripture was vested in the high-priest of Judaism, and
transferred with all other prerogatives of his office to the Sove-
reign Pontiff of the Christian Church ; and that, by virtue of this
authority, the Alexandrine canon of the Old Testament, embrac-
ing all the books sanctioned by the Council of Trent, was recog-
nized in Palestine at the time of Christ, and handed over to the
Christian Church by the Apostles. There are other topics also
treated in connection with this one, particularly the respective
merits of the Catholic and Protestant English versions of the
Bible.

Protestants can have no certain criterion by which to deter-
mine a complete and indubitable canon of the sacred writings.
There is no such criterion except the supreme, infallible authority
of the Catholic Church. Biblical Protestantism is fast sinking in-
to the sand on which it is built. The same task which was per-
formed by Tertullian, Origen, and St. Irenaeus devolves now on
Catholic scholars : to defend the Scriptures against Jews and
heretics.

We welcome cordially the excellent contribution of Bishop
Mullen to sacred science, and recommend it earnestly to all the
clergy.

2. A HEBREW GRAMMAR.f

There are several elementary Hebrew grammars which are

* The Canon of the Old Testament. By Tobias Mullen, Bishop of Erie. New York :
Pustet & Co.

f A Practical Introductory Hebrew Grammar. By Edwin Cone Bissell, Professor in
Hartford Theological Seminary. Hartford Theological Seminary.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 929

all good and substantially alike. This one certainly deserves to
rank with them, and we are disposed to think that it has some
special advantages of its own. The Hebrew type is excellent.

3. HINTS TO AUTHORS.*

One seldom meets with so thoroughly enjoyable a book of
practical instruction as Mr. Dixey gives us in his little volume.

Having himself filled several editorial chairs, he is fully com-
petent to treat his subject, and throughout shows a frank, earn-
est desire to make his information useful to his readers.

Any young writer, and indeed not a few old ones, would
esteem themselves happy to have the friendly acquaintance o7
an experienced editor who would kindly tell them what he
knows about authorship and its work. This is what Mr. Dixey
has done : how to go about writing ; subjects to choose, faults in
style to avoid ; how to criticise one's own manuscript, prepare it
for the press ; with encouraging hints to the receivers of rejected
manuscripts, how to write for magazines, newspapers, the stage,
etc. We can think of no more useful book of its kind to put
before our college and convent classes in rhetoric.

The chapters on style, method, and the art of writing
furnish many good points in the way of literary criticism which
the members of our various Reading Unions might peruse with
profit.

4. THE ROMAN RITUAL, f

This is a new edition of Pustet's Ritual. For shape, size,
typography, and binding it is almost faultless. We have used a
previous edition continuously for years and with great satisfac-
tion, and in saying this we bear witness to the durability of the
book as well as to its general usefulness. Nevertheless, what to
many priests would be a small defect may be to others a grave
one : there is no table of contents prefixed to the book and no
general index affixed. An index of benedictions there is, of
course, but none of the entire contents. Familiar use will ren-
der this a merely nominal defect, but there are numbers of the
clergy who have only occasional need of the complete Ritual,
and who would find a table of contents and a general index of
great convenience.

* The Trade of Authorship. By Wolstan Dixey, Editor of Treasure-Trove Magazine,
etc., etc. Published by the Author, 73 Henry Street, Brooklyn, New York.

t Rituale JRomanum, Pauli V. Pont. Max., jussu editum et a Benedicto XIV. auctum et
castigatum, cui novissima accedit benedictionum et instructionum appendix. Editio tertia
post typicam. Ratisbonae, Neo Eboraci et Cincinnati! : Fr. Pustet. 1892.

930 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

5. THE AMERICAN HIERARCHY.*

The Hierarchy of tJie Catholic Church in the United States,
by Maurice Francis Egan, LL.D., introduces its subjects in pen
colors of rare harmony and brilliancy, seen even through the
thick veil of modesty which the American prelates possess.
Judged by what numbers have already been issued, the work
complete will contain reliable and succinct biographies of the
cardinal, the archbishops, and the bishops of the territory cover-
ed in the title, together with historical sketches of the episcopal
sees in alphabetical order of provinces. This arrangement gives
Baltimore, with the Cardinal Metropolitan of the American Church,
the first place. The author's ability to carry on the work un-
dertaken is seen in the first subject, and his embellishing of those
following is equally radiant and true. The richness of the work
does not end at the desk of the editor, for to make it worthy of
the aim, art, photography, engraving, and press are united to
produce an effect seldom attained. Published with the concur-
rence and approval of the hierarchy, its exactness may be relied
upon, while its typographical arrangement and insert binding,
when completed, afford the subscriber an opportunity to possess
an interesting and instructive volume of historical data of ex-
cellent workmanship. Each of the first five parts contains three
engravures, on steel-finished print, of the title-subjects, and the
typography is interspersed with reproductions 'of exterior and
interior views of American cathedrals and episcopal residences.
Sold in subscription form at an estimated number of twenty
parts.

6. HUNOLT'S SERMONS.f

These volumes are the seventh and eighth of the entire series
of Hunolt's sermons got out by the enterprise of the Messrs.
Benziger. The two volumes contain seventy-six sermons, adapt-
ed to all the Sundays and most of the holy-days of the year.
The translator and editor, Rev. J. Allen, D.D., of East London,
South Africa, has added a full index of all the sermons, and an
alphabetical one of the principal subjects treated. A feature of
peculiar value for practical purposes are the marginal notes, or
rather, abstracts of paragraphs. These are plentifully distributed

* The Hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church in the United States* By Maurice Fran-
cis Egan, LL.D. Philadelphia : George Barrie.

t The Good Christian ; or, Sermons on the Chief Christian Virtues. By Rev. Francis Hu-
nolt, S. J. Volumes I. and II. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

1892.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 931

through the work, and though not over-condensed, are brief enough
to be used as skeletons of the subject-matter, marking divisions
and indicating the argument or instruction to be followed.

On the appearance of the first volume of this series we ex-
pressed our welcome of it and our appreciation of Father Hu-
nolt as a great mission preacher, as well as an instructor in
Christian morality. It would be hard to exaggerate the benefit
to be gained by the study of his style and the assimilation of
his spirit. The mingled authority and kindliness of the Catholic
preacher are well exemplified in Father Hunolt. The steady use
of his matter cannot fail to improve the Catholic preacher in an
eminent degree.

The present volumes treat of supremely important topics,
such as the presence of God, the union of fear and love in the
divine service, the evil effects of venial sin, reverence for holy
things, gratitude, prayer, conformity to the divine will, fraternal
love and correction, and the joy of a good conscience. Some of
the sermons are short, others of medium length. Of these latter
it may be well to say that they can either be used as complete
discourses fully developing their topics, or broken up into two
or more separate sermons, their divisions and the editor's in-
dexes and notes enabling one to do so with facility. In con-
clusion we wish to express our hearty praise of the publishers,
not only for the style in which the printing and binding are
done, but for their services to religion in starting and continuing
the series.

932 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ALL COMMUNICATIONS RELATING TO READING CIRCLES, LISTS OF BOOKS,
ETC., SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION,
415 WEST FIFTY-NINTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY.

THE intrinsic value of books for children, no less than the
price, is a matter of serious consideration by thoughtful parents
and teachers. To secure the best results from an educational
point of view, untrained minds cannot be allowed to choose at
random books from public libraries. In many localities the
stories most widely diffused and easiest to get present to young
folks types of character unworthy of imitation. Daring acts of
disobedience in school and out of school are frequently depicted
in glowing colors. A vast quantity of reading matter is distri-
buted broadcast throughout the United States which is chiefly
concerned with the doings, real and imaginary, of youthful
criminals. Books of this kind exert a most pernicious influence
by bringing the inquiring mind of young folks in contact with
the worst side of human nature.

For many reasons, healthful, interesting stories, with a good
moral tone, are not sufficiently known in the home circle and in
school libraries. When placed within their reach children will
read attractive books. Hence the need of securing for them
guidance from those competent to make a personal inspection of
books adapted to their needs. With this object in view the
Columbian Reading- Union has prepared a list selected from the
very excellent collection of Books for the Young published by
Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons. A special order blank will be
sent with the list which will secure a liberal discount. By send-
ing ten cents in postage stamps a copy of this list and an illus-
trated catalogue may be obtained from the Columbian Reading

Union.

* * #

Jules Verne, the prince of story-tellers for young people, is
known among his friends and neighbors at Amiens, in France,
as a devout member of the Catholic Church. When a boy he
began to make plans and gather material for his wonderful
books, which have done so much to popularize the latest develop-
ments of science. As an indication of the plan adopted in the

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 933

list prepared by the Columbian Reading Union we give the titles
of the books by this famous Catholic author. The net price
shows the discount allowed :

Retail Net

Author. Titles of Books. Price. Price. Postage.

JULES VERNE. The Exploration of the World. Three
volumes, each with over 100 full-page
illustrations and .maps.

Famous Travels and Travellers. . . $2.50 $1.88 $0.21
The Great Navigators of the Eighteenth

Century 2.50 1.88 .21

The Great Navigators of the Nineteenth

Century 2.50 1.88 .21

Michael Strogoff ; or, The Courier of the

Czar 2.00 1.50 .19

A Floating City and the Blockade-Run-
ners 2.00 1.50 .19

Hector Servadac 2.00 1.50 .19

Dick Sands 2.00 1.50 .19

A Journey to the Centre of the Earth. . 2.00 1.50 .19

From the Earth to the Moon. . . 2.00 1.50 .19

The Steam House. .... 2.00 1.50 .19

The Giant Raft 2.00 1.50 .19

The Mysterious Island. . . . 2.50 1.88 .19

Young folks should be encouraged to talk about the books
they read, and, if possible, to write a short account of the rea-
sons why a particular book is interesting. The Columbian Read-
ing Union will gladly accept written notices of books from young
readers. For some tirrte the plan here proposed has been tested
at the School Library in New York City under the supervision
of one of the Paulist Fathers. A specimen of the results to be
expected may be seen in the following notices of books read
during the past year by a Catholic boy. He is about fourteen
years of age, and has neither the leisure nor the educational en-
vironment of little Lord Fauntleroy. Truly he represents the
vast army of intelligent boys working in first-class stores through-
out the length and breadth of the United States. At the public
libraries these boys are known as eager readers. That they
might be trained to become discriminating readers may be shown
by these critical notes representing a boy's own thoughts and im-
pressions expressed in his own language :

Life of St. Aloysius Gonzaga. By Students of St. Francis Xavier's
College. Edited by Rev. J. F. X. O'Connor, S.J.

" This is a book that a person could read over and over again
without getting tired of it. There is a litany at the end that
every boy who reads this book should say, at least once a week.
In the inside there is an elegant engraving of St. Aloysius hold-

934 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar.,

ing a cross in his hand, and I think it is such a pretty picture
that there is not a Catholic boy who would see it but would
feel like trying to imitate this holy saint. It is interesting also
to read about his father and his father's family, and how he gave
up all his riches and elegant clothes to be one of God's chosen
people."

Very Much Abroad. By F. C. Burnand.

" I think this book is more for men than for boys. The hu-
mor in it is not the kind a boy likes, and another thing, I do
not think a person could read very much of it at a time. Some
parts of it are very good, but there is too much of the one
thing for a boy. It is kind of English, and most of the pages
are stuck together. I liked some parts of it very well."

A Jolly Fellowship. By Frank Stockton.

" This story is not only a good one, but has some of the
best humor in it that you would want to read. It is told in
such a dry way, you would have to laugh at it if you had lost
a five-dollar bill. In the introduction the author states that a
man could read this book and would be pleased with it, and
it is indeed the truth.

" In the story one boy is supposed to act as guardian over
the other, but the guardian is led into the biggest scrapes by the
one under his charge. On their journey they meet a party of
a father and a mother and a little girl. The little girl leads
them into more scrapes.

" The father of the little girl is a foolish kind of a man, and
does whatever his daughter tells, him to do ; and, like the boys,
he is always getting into a comical situation. At last the parents
send her to a boarding-school, and she gets better. The book
has nice print, and is a capital story-book. Mr. Stockton is a
very fine author."

Among the Lakes. By William O. Stoddard.

" In this story the author introduces a country boy and a
city boy. The boy from the city thinks he knows everything,
and comes to find out he don't know half as much as the coun-
try boy.

" Stoddard, I think, writes the best story books published.
In this book he writes just as a country boy acts. It has nice
print, is a very nice book for a boy and would do for some girls
as well, because he brings in some little girls that have an impor-
tant part in the story."

Hans Brinker. By Mary Mapes Dodge.

" A fine book and a book you can learn out of if you think of
what you are reading. It is a very interesting story, and the
authoress explains the different places where the boys go to
while they are on skates. While the boys are skating they talk
of all the battles, and all the riots, and floods, and the people,

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 935

and in fact all the principal things that ever happened or oc-
curred in Holland. Things you ; have learned in school and you
have forgotten are brought back to your memory. The Hollan-
der's mode of life, what he eats, how he enjoys himself, are all
told you in the story. The story itself is very pathetic, almost
to the end. Hans, the hero, is a big, strong boy for his age,
like all heroes are ; and at the end becomes a great physician,
the sick father gets cured and becomes quite rich. Truly this is
an interesting book."

The Boy Emigrants. By Noah Brooks.

" A story of four boys' adventures going to the gold mines ;
and for a boy that likes to read adventures this is just the book
he wants. One of the reasons for myself liking the book is,
that there is not too many hair-breadth escapes, and that each
boy does not find a nugget of gold worth a million dollars,
like you read in other story books of boys going to the gold
mines.

" The print is nice and large, .and there is no danger of hurt-
ing your eyes reading it. The story is based on some country
boys starting out to make a little money to help the family get
along, and they go to the gold mines to make it. On their way
they meet with adventures, and get along as country boys do.
Noah Brooks is a very good author, and writes just as country
boys speak and act. I think this book is one of the best story
books I ever read."

From a recent issue of the Pilot we take the following graphic
account of a joint conference of the Catholic Reading Circles
established at Boston :

The announcement that the Rev. Thomas McMillan, of the
Paulists, New York, representing the Columbian Reading Union,
would meet representatives of the Catholic Reading Circles of
Boston and its neighborhood, at the rooms of the Catholic
Union, Tremont Street, Boston, last Sunday night, attracted
thither a large assemblage. The Circles represented were the
Catholic Union, of Boston ; the John Boyle O'Reilly, of Boston ;
the Newman, South Boston ; the Hecker, Everett ; the Father
Druillettes, Plymouth.

The meeting was called to order at 8 P.M. by Mr. John P.
Leahy. He briefly sketched the work which the Catholic Reading
Union has done, and is still to do, in impressing on the commu-
nity at large the intellectual strength of Catholics. We can take
courage and suggestion from the work accomplished by 'the
Methodists through their Chautauqua Reading Circle movement.
Referring to the large delegations present from the various
Circles, he said that the opportunity for interchange of opinion
thus presented should not be lost ; and proposed that a confer-
ence would be in order.

Mr. Bernard L. Corr was then moved to the chair, and the

936 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar.,

proposed conference proceeded. Mr. Corr dwelt on one especial
benefit resulting from the Reading Circles the strengthening of
young Catholics in correct knowledge of history. How many of
them (the reference, of course, was to Catholics educated in pub-
lic schools) had thus been afforded a much-needed opportunity
to correct the false notions imbibed from bigoted text-books.

Mr. Corr then requested each president to outline the plan
on which his or her Circle is conducted. This was done. Mary
Elizabeth Blake, president of the Catholic Union Circle, spoke
of the large membership roll and the comparatively small attend-
ance of active workers at the meetings. An animated discussion
ensued as to how this difficulty might be remedied. The sub-
ject of creating more originality in the discussions was also
touched upon. Mrs. Blake adverted to the fact that the member-
ship of nearly all the Circles was exclusively feminine, and ex-
pressed her conviction that it would be an advantage to encou-
rage the membership of young men. Mr. John D. Drum, of the
Boston College English High-School, spoke on the same line,
and instanced the success of a literary association which -had its
origin in one of the Boston evening high-schools, for the en-
couragement of Catholics.

Mr. C. J. Regan, president of the Hecker Circle of Everett,
was proud to state that of the twenty-four active members of
the Circle he represented eight were young men, and all were
present (applause). F. F. Driscoll spoke for the same Circle.

To facilitate interchange of visits among the Circles the
meeting times and places of each were given, as follows :

Catholic Union Circle, Boston Rooms, 602 Tremont Street,
second and fourth Thursdays of the month, 8 P.M.

John Boyle O'Reilly Circle of Boston Catholic Union Rooms,
as above, second and fourth Fridays, 8 P.M.

Newman Circle, South Boston, at the house of the presi-
dent, Miss E. A. McMahon, 273 Gold Street, every other Wed-
nesday, 8 P.M.

Hecker Circle, Everett Basement of St. Mary's Church, first
and third Mondays, 8 P.M.

Druillettes Circle, Plymouth basement of St. Peter's Church,
second and last Fridays, 8 P.M.

The flourishing Brookline Circle, unfortunately not repre-
sented, has its meeting in the basement of the Church of the
Assumption, first and third Wednesdays, 8 P.M.

At this juncture Mr. Leahy entered, escorting Father
McMillan, who was heartily welcomed. The presidents were in-
vited to give Father McMillan a brief synopsis of the work of
their respective Circles.

A WHOLESOME VARIETY OF METHODS.

Mrs. Blake summarized the work of the Catholic Union
Circle as follows : First year devoted to the study of Fabiola,
Callista, and The Pearl of Antioch, three novels built on the
history of the Primitive Church ; second year given almost en-

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 937

tirely to the works of Cardinal Newman ; the third year is be-
ing given to American Catholic writers of the past and present
generation, including representative churchmen, like the late
Bishop England and Bishop John Lancaster Spalding ; publi-
cists, as Brownson ; historians, as Dr. John Gilmary Shea; essay-
ists, as Agnes Repplier ; novelists, as Marion Crawford, Maurice
F. Egan, etc. The preparation of short papers on the subjects
under consideration is a feature of the work, though oral dis-
cussion is preferred. The reading of striking passages from the
books in hand is always on the programme. The Circle forms
no circulating library, but encourages members each to buy the
book or books which may engage the attention of any given
meeting thus promoting the circulation of Catholic literature.

Katherine E. Conway, president of the John Boyle O'Reilly
Circle, gave this summary of work: First year spent on the
novels, " Group I.," in the Columbian Reading Union lists, based
on the history of the Primitive Church. The chief feature of
each meeting was an essay on some related subject, as "The
Church of the Catacombs," " The Pagan Vestal and the Chris-
tian Nun," " St. Cecilia and Church Music," etc. The second
year, the same series continued, alternated with evenings given
to eminent personages in American Catholic history. The third
year is being given to modern Catholic novelists, biographers,
and essayists ; the Circle being at present engaged on the works
of Kathleen O'Meara. Each book is illustrated by what may be
called " related work." For example, the programme for the
evening devoted to Frederic Ozanam included also a brief sketch
of the life of St. Vincent de Paul and a history of the local
Conferences of St. Vincent de Paul. The reading of literary
selections and the answering of the queries given out from the
*' question box" are regular features of the meetings. This
Circle has a small circulating library.

Miss Ella A. McMahon, president of the Newman Circle, and a
veritable pioneer in Reading Circle work in Boston, gave an inter-
esting account of how her Circle had dropped away from novel-
reading, and become close students of church history. The
Newman Circle had sketched out an admirable plan of work
covering the interval from Charlemagne to the French Revolu-
tion. At the meetings the members alternate an event with a
personage. They respond to the roll-call with a quotation from
a Catholic author.

Mr. Regan, president of the Hecker Circle of Everett, said
that it was managed on lines quite similar to those of the Catho-
lic Union of Boston. Sometimes an evening was devoted to
the works of some eminent modern author. They had a John
Boyle O'Reilly night, which had been much enjoyed ; and they
had found much pleasure, too, in the works of Mary Elizabeth
Blake.

Miss O'Brien, president of the Druillettes Circle of Plymouth,
told brightly how their Circle got its name. Father Gabriel
Druillettes visited Plymouth on diplomatic business, under the
VOL. LIV. 60

938 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar.,

protection of Governor Bradford, in 1651, and was the first
priest ever to set foot on the historic " rock." This was at a
time when priests were proscribed in Massachusetts. Her Circle
was in its second year of existence ; had devoted the first year
to the poets of England and Ireland, and was now engaged
on alternate meetings with church history and the poets of
America.

After these accounts, to which he listened with great interest,

FATHER M C MILLAN MADE A BRIEF ADDRESS.

He congratulated Boston on its acknowledged leadership in
the Reading Circle movement, at which even New York, not
readily disposed to yield any pre-eminence to Boston, rejoiced.
The statements of work and methods to which he had just
listened delighted him, because they showed how thoroughly the
principle of Home Rule obtained in the organization. He had
been often importuned, in connection with the Columbian Read-
ing Union, to form what he called a central despotism. But he
disapproved of every sort of despotism, and wished each Circle
to be independent, and to adapt its methods to the local needs.
He liked such a locality feeling as, for example, the Druillettes
Circle of Plymouth has evinced, even in the choice of its name.
He spoke of the necessity for making Reading Circle libraries,
where such existed, attractive.

In the Watchwords from John Boyle O'Reilly, he said, there
is a good word about the right kind of bait. Bait your libraries
and your Reading Circle work generally with good, bright fiction
for the young, and by degrees they will get an appetite for
more solid reading.

Father McMillan spoke of the work the members might do in
getting Catholic books into the public libraries. Catholics paid
their full proportion for the maintenance of said libraries, and
this should be considered in the selection of books. It was in
the hands of Catholics themselves to see that for anti-Catholic
books in public libraries antidotes should be found in the same
place.

In conclusion Father McMillan said that there were people
who couldn't be quite easy unless antique precedents could be
found for modern enterprises. He had found, he said, a suffi-
ciently hoary precedent for the modern Reading Circle movement
away back in the University of Paris in the time of St. Thomas
Aquinas. There were three students, close friends, who were clever
enough, but so poor as to have only one full suit of clothing
among them. This each one donned in turn to attend the public
lectures, at which he was most attentive and took full notes.
These he carried back and imparted to his waiting companions ;
and together they discussed the lecture. Here was a small but
efficient Reading Circle.

In conclusion Father McMillan urged all to renewed enthu-
siasm and perseverance.

1892.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 939

Then a brief reception followed, Mr. Leahy presenting the
members individually to Father McMillan.

In reply to a correspondent who asks whether conversions to
the Catholic Church have ceased in England, we quote a portion
of an editorial notice of Cardinal Manning in the London Tablet
of January 23, 1892: "A few years ago a statesman was seri-
ously inquiring whether it were possible for a man to be at the
same time a good Catholic and a good citizen of the English
state. What a score of pamphlets failed to prove to the average
Protestant reader has since been so demonstrated by one blame-
less life lived directly before the eyes of the people that the very
problem itself has come to be forgotten. Cardinal Manning knew
his countrymen well when he trusted them so wholly. He held
firmly that neither prejudice nor the grotesque tradition of ages
would prevent them from acknowledging and acclaiming goodness
and truth when they knew it ; and he lived long enough to see
how surely the daily practice of his own life was setting the seal
to his theory. . . . While the stream of individual converts
continues to flow steadily, there is another movement going
silently forward among the English people which may have even
larger and more lasting consequences. As we see the whole
ritual and ceremonial and doctrine of the Establishment being
slowly transformed before our eyes, and its sons persuading them-
selves that they are not Protestants at all, so among the masses
the dying out of the old anti-national tradition is opening up
possibilities of conversions which shall not be by twos or threes.
For the first time since the Reformation, the example of individ-
ual lives, of lives that make perfect record of the faith that is in
them, has its right weight in the country."

In America also " the possibilities of conversions " are now
more numerous than formerly. The road to the church is more
easy to find. By the zealous efforts of Catholic Reading Circles
that road may be made still more luminous and attractive.

940 WITH THE PUBLISHED. [Mar.,

WITH THE PUBLISHER.

THE Publisher feels that he should congratulate the readers of
THE CATHOLIC WORLD as well as the contributors on the suc-
cess of the Manning number. Unqualified encomiums have come
from all sides, and indeed from unexpected quarters, on the time-
liness and appropriateness of such an issue. Manning is a name
that has touched the hearts of rich and poor, and both classes
were anxious to have honor done to his memory. THE CATHO-
LIC WORLD was second to none of the magazines in performing
this duty, and from letters received during the past month its
readers have thoroughly appreciated its efforts.

The death of Cardinal Manning has been the occasion for
the publication of a large number of interesting reminiscences of
his life written from many and diverse points of view. Append-
ed is a list of the most worthy of notice. In the Contemporary
Review for last month a close personal friend of the cardinal,
Mr. Wilfrid Meynell, who is doubtless known to our readers
under his nom de plume " John Oldcastle," gives a brief sketch,
while Mrs. Sheldon Amos, one of the many ladies devoted to
charitable work in London, the Reverend Benjamin Waugh,
whose great work for the prevention of cruelty to children is
well known, and Mr. Percy Bunting, the editor of the Review
give the impressions produced by the cardinal upon open-minded
Protestants. In the Nineteenth Century we have the Anglican
clergyman's view of the Cardinal from the pen of the Rev. Regi-
nald G. Wilberforce. In the Month a former secretary of Dr.
Manning gives an interesting account. In addition, already an-
nouncements have been made of two biographies, one by Mr.
Meynell, the other by the unfortunate Mr. A. W. Hutton.
These volumes, however, will be only a prelude to the full and
complete life which will be published hereafter ; for the cardinal
carefully kept his correspondence, and has left instructions to
literary executors for its publication.

The interest excited by economical questions has spread to
the compilers of text-books. Father Liberatore has published a
volume which has recently been translated into English, and a

1892.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 941

writer who is highly valued and appreciated, Mr. C. Devas, has
written for the Stonyhurst series a volume on the same subject.

It is a pleasure to see announced a reprint of the essays on
the Relations of the Church to Society by Father Edmund
O'Reilly, S.J. These essays appeared in the Irish Monthly many
years ago, and called forth the warmest commendation of Car-
dinal Newman. In collecting and reprinting them the editors of
the valuable series to which they belong have increased the
obligations under which they have placed all lovers of good
literature.

The Catholic University of America is already giving to the
world solid proofs of the learning which it was founded to pro-
mote. In addition to the works of Dr. Bouquillon, Dr. Hy-
vernat, Professor of Oriental Languages, Egyptology, and Assyriol-
ogy, has lately published a large illustrated volume giving an
account of the archaeology and an interpretation of the in-
scriptions of Armenia, Kurdistan, and Mesopotamia.

The Publisher would call the attention of his readers to the
enterprise of a well-known firm of English publishers. For the
small sum of twelve cents Messrs. Burns & Oates have issued a
series of devotional works which includes the New Testament,
the Imitation of Christ, Missal for the Laity bound in cloth, and
Catholic Belief, by Dr. Faa di Bruno.

One of the first tangible results of the Convention of the
Apostolate of the Press, lately held here, is the publication of all
the papers read during the two days' sessions. This book of
one hundred and seventy-six pages, in uniform size with THE
CATHOLIC WORLD, has been issued by the Columbus Press at
the urgent request of the delegates, as well as to satisfy the de-
mand of many throughout the country who were unable to at-
tend the Convention, but who awaited anxiously the results of
its deliberations. Here will be found, then, the utterances of
prominent Catholics from all parts of the country voicing the
missionary campaign spirit becoming so active in the Catholic
Church. The Publisher would suggest to the readers of THE
CATHOLIC WORLD, all of whom he feels should be leaders in
this missionary campaign among non-Catholics, the advisability
of securing copies of this report, reading the different papers
carefully, and distributing them among their Catholic and non
Catholic friends.

942 WITH THE PUBLISHER. [Mar.,

The value of these papers as furnishing food for thought and
stimulus for action in behalf of the cause of Truth through the
agency of the Press cannot be overrated. The character of the
articles is such as offer suggestions for practical good within
the most narrow as well as within the most wide conditions,
while the variety of methods suggested for furthering the spread
of our holy religion through such an agency are such as to meet
the wants of particular localities, just as much as they are fitted
to meet every grade of capacity in the individual apostle. It is,
as was intended, a hand-book for the man of zeal, wherever
found and whatever his environment and opportunities.

This Convention and its work, as embodied in this report, is to
the layman what the annual convention of Catholic editors is to

the fourth estate of the Catholic body.

The edition is limited, and all orders should be sent at once
to the office of the Columbus Press. Price, twenty-five cents a
copy. A postal note for that amount is the most convenient
form of remittance, which must invariably accompany all orders.
It contains every paper and letter read before the Convention,
thirty-five in number, and touches every point where the press
can be applied in the cause of Catholic truth.

The editor is much annoyed that the name of Mr. John A.
MacCabe, Principal of the Normal School, Ottawa, Canada, and
one of the most prominent members of the Convention, was omit-
ted in preparing the list for the press.

The Publisher would suggest that a form of labor in behalf
of the work of the Apostolate of the Press, and one that has
been repeatedly suggested in these pages, is the very practical
work his readers can do in behalf of the extension of THE
CATHOLIC WORLD among their acquaintances. How much good
can come from a reference to it in conversation, to a discussion
of the articles or a particular article found in its pages ! Make

the magazine better known and feel that it is your duty to do so.

The Catholic Publication Society Co. has recently published :
Succat ; or, Sixty Years of the Life of St. Patrick. By Very

Rev. Mgr. Gradwell.

Ireland and St. Patrick: A study of the Saint's character,
and of the results of his Apostolate. By Rev. W. B.
Morris, of the Oratory.
Memoirs (chiefly autobiographical ) of Richard Robert Madden,

M.D. Edited by his son, T. More Madden, M.D.
Seeds and Sheaves : Thoughts for Incurables. By Lady Lo-
vat. With prefatory verses by Aubrey de Vere.

1892.] WITH THE PUBLISHER. 943

Ballads and Lyrics. By Katharine Tynan.
Frequent Communion. By Father Joseph Hube. Trans-
lated by Rev. C. A. Barchi, SJ.
Works of St. J/nn of the Cross. Edited by David Lewis.

Second (final) volume.
The same company announces:

The Letters of the late Archbishop U Hat home. Edited by
Augusta Theodosia Drane. (Sequel to the Autobiogra-
phy.)

The Position of the Catholic Church in England and Wales
during the last two Centuries. Retrospect and forecast.
By Thomas Murphy. With a preface by Lord Braye.
The Conversion of the Teutonic Race. By Mrs. Hope. New

edition, in two volumes, at reduced prices.
The Passage of Our Lord to the Father. Conclusion of Life
of Our Life. By Rev. H. J. Coleridge, S.J. New volume,
Quarterly series.

The same company also has in preparation a complete and
uniform edition of the Works of .Pere Grou, edited by Rev. S.
H. Frisbee, S.J., of Woodstock College : The Interior of Jesus
and Mary has already appeared. The others are : A new trans-
lation, In two volumes, of Manual for Interior Souls, commonly
known under its mutilated Protestant dress as " Hidden Life of
the Soul "; Morality Extracted from the Confessions of St. Austin,
The Character of True Devotion, Spiritual Maxims explained, The
Science of the Crucifix, The School of Christ, The Christian Sanc-
tified by the Lord's Prayer ; and minor works.

By arrangement with the executors of the late Monsignor
Preston, the Catholic Publication Society Co. has taken over the
plates and stock of his books from his publisher. New and im-
proved editions will be issued as soon as the present ones are
exhausted.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

ORIENTAL RELIGIONS AND CHRISTIANITY. A course of Lectures delivered on
the Ely Foundation before the Students of Union Theological Seminary,
New York, 1891. By Frank L. Ellinwood, D.D., Secretary of the Board of
Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church U. S. A., etc. New York :
Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE GLORIES OF DIVINE GRACE : A free rendering of the Original Treatise of
P. Eusebius Nierenberg, SJ. By Dr. M. Joseph Scheeben, Professor in the
Archiepiscopal Seminary at Cologne. Translated by a Benedictine Monk
of St. Meinrad's Abbey, Ind. Second edition. New York, Cincinnati,
Chicago : Benziger Bros.

THE REALM OF NATURE : An Outline of Physiography. By Hugh Robert Mill,
D.Sc. Edin., Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, etc. With 19 color-
ed maps and 68 illustrations. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

HOFFMANN'S CATHOLIC DIRECTORY FOR 1892. Milwaukee: Hoffmann Bros. Co.

MANUAL OF CHURCH HISTORY. By Rev. T. Gilmartin, Professor of Ecclesias-
tical History, St. Patrick's College, Maynooth. Dublin : M. H. Gill & Son.

THE MEMOIRS (CHIEFLY AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL) OF R. R. MADDEN, M.D.,
F.R.C.S., formerly Colonial Secretary of Western Australia, etc. Edited
by his son, Thomas More Madden, M.D., F.R.C.S.E. New York: The
Catholic Publication Society Co.

944 BOOKS RECEIVED. [Mar., 1892.

IRELAND AND ST. PATRICK. By William Bullen Morris, of the Oratory of St.

Philip Neri. New York : The Catholic Publication Society Co.; London

Burns & Gates.
LIFE OF OUR LORD UPON EARTH (considered in its historical, chronological, and

geographical relations). By Samuel J. Andrews. New York: Charles

Scribner's Sons.
THE CEREMONIES OF SOME ECCLESIASTICAL FUNCTIONS. By the Rev. Daniel

O'Loan, Dean, Maynooth College. Dublin : Browne C: Nolan.
LIFE OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL. By John Morel (translated from the French).

New York : Press of the Mission of the Immaculate Virgin, Mount Loret-

to, Staten Island.

PAMPHLETS.

GUIDING STAR; OR, LIGHT IN DARKNESS (choice of a state of life). Philadel-
phia : H. L. Kilner & Co.

THE MEANING OF THE ETHICAL MOVEMENT. Fifth anniversary address. By
W. L. Sheldon, Lecturer of the Ethical Society of St. Louis. St. Louis :
Commercial Printing Co.

EDUCATION : To WHOM DOES IT BELONG ? A Rejoinder to the Civilta Cattolica.
By the Rev. Thomas Bouquillon, D.D., Professor of Moral Theology at the
Catholic University of America, Washington, D. C. Baltimore : John Mur-
phy & Co.

VISITS TO ST. JOSEPH FOR EVERY DAY IN THE MONTH. Dedicated to the zeal-
ous clients of that Saint. By a -Spiritual Daughter of St. Teresa. New York
and Cincinnati : Fr. Pustet.

SHORT LINE TO THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. By Rev. J. W. Book, R.D.
Fourth edition. Published by the author, Cannelton, Perry Co., Ind.

THE REASONABLENESS OF THE CEREMONIES OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. By
Rev. J. J. Burke. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Bros.

THE FALL AND THE RESURRECTION OF THE PEOPLE OF ISRAEL : A translation
of the last chapters of " Les Nations Fremissantes centre Jesus Christ et son
Eglise," by the Abbe Joseph Lemann. New York : The Vatican Library
Co., 84 Church St.

MISSION WORK AMONG THE NEGROES AND INDIANS, What is being accom-
plished by means of the annual collection taken up for our missions. Bal-
timore : Foley Bros., Printers.

THE SUPREMACY OF THE SPIRITUAL. By Edward Randall Knowles. Wor-
cester, Mass.: Published by the author.

THE STATE LAST : A Study of Doctor Bouquillon's Pamphlet : " Education : To
whom does it belong ? " With a supplement reviewing Dr. Bouquillon's
Rejoinder to Critics. By Rev. James Conway, S.J., Canisius College, Buf-
falo, N. Y. New York and Cincinnati : Fr. Pustet & Co.

OOUD DUSX.

" OUT of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh," so I want to speak of "Gold
Dust." I have proved it to be so good that T want every woman who has to work to know
how much easier it will make their work. It is somewhat similar to other Washing Powders,
but is much cheaper and more effective. When I got the first package, I emptied some into
a pail and put it on the table to experiment with in any and every place where I would use
soap. I have found it to be better than the best soap I ever used. When washing dishes it
makes the water soft for the hands ; silverware washed with it keeps brighter ; tinware re-
quires only about half the work to keep it shining ; and last, but not least, is the clean, sweet
dish-cloths which you can have with far less trouble than if soap is used. I had some stove
zincs which were all specked from ashes or some other cause ; I had tried everything on them
that I knew of, but one cleaning with Gold Dust was worth more than all the rest.

And now a word about washing with it. I don't put my clothes asoak Sunday night,
any other night, but Monday morning I get breakfast and eat it ; then I sort over the clothes
and put them to soak in warm water, to which I have added a level tablespoonful of Gold Dast
Washing Powder for each pail of water ; next, I wash dishes, make beds, and so on, for about
two hours ; then I finish my wash, by rubbing, boiling, sudsing, and rinsing as usual ; but the
rubbing is more in name than in reality, except in a few badly soiled places ; and I only let the
clothes fairly boil up. I get my wash out in good time and the clothes are clear and white.
It does not hurt my hands, so I will risk the clothes. Several months' use has only added to
my appreciation of it for all kinds of kitchen and laundry work. Try it, -sisters, and be con-
vinced. MRS. EVA GAILLARD, Box 209, Girard, Pa.

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