Full text of "The Catholic world"

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

MONTHLY MAGAZINE

GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.

voi,.

APRIL, 1895, TO SEPTEMBER, 1895.

NEW YORK :
THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD,

120 WEST 6oth STREET.

1895.

THE COLUMBUS PRESS, 120 WEST 60iH ST., NEW YORK.

CONTENTS.

Ancient Monumental Records of Crea-
tion and the Deluge. By Rev. R. M.

Ryan, 223

Apostle of the Alleghenies, The. {Illus-
trated.} By K. Hart, ... 94
Better than a Trip to Europe. (Illus-
trated.} By Henry Hedges Neville, 640
Bonaparte and the Black Cardinals. By

B. Morgan, . . . ... 145

Brook Farm To-day. (Illustrated.} By

A. A. McGinley, . . . v . 14
Caesar's Head. By John J. a Becket, . 604
Canadian Poets and Poetry. (Illustrat- .
e d.} By Thomas CfHagan, M.A.,

Ph.D., 783

Catholic Champlain, 1895, The. By

JohnJ. CPShea, . . . .560
Catholic Church the Parent of Repub-
lics, The. By J. Thomas Scharf,

A.M.,LL.D., 290

Centenary of Maynooth College. (Il-
lustrated.} By Rev. George McDer-

mot, C.S.P., 205

Church Unity and the Papacy. By Rev.

Lucian Johnston, .... 433
City of the Soul and its Churches, The.
(Illustrated.} By Orby Shipley,

M.A 614

Columbian Reading Union, The, 136, 284,
427, 573, 7*3, 8 57
Corner of Acadie, A. (Illustrated.}

By M. A. Taggart, . . . .165
Downfall of Zolaism. By Walter Lecky, 357
Dr. Heber Newton on the Resurrection.

By Rev. George M. Searle, C.S.P., 387
Editorial Notes, 134, 277, 420, 705, 853

Father Hecker and the Establishing of
the Poor Clares in the United States.
By Rev. S. B. Hedges, ... 380
Foot-Prints of Canadian Missionaries, In

\ht.ByJ.K.Foran,LL.B., . 200

From Doubt to Faith, . . . .688
Genius of Leonardo da Vinci, The. (Il-
lustrated.} By John J. VShea, . 235
Glimpses of Italy. (Illustrated.} By

E. C. Foster, 254

Glimpses of Life in an Anglican Semi-
nary. (Illustrated.} By Rev. Clar-
ence A. Walworth, .... 60
Great Engineer, A. (Illustrated.} By

JohnJ. O'Shea, . . - -833
Great Waters of the Ojibways, By the.
(Illustrated.) By Rev. Thomas Jef-
ferson fenkins, 54

Growth of Catholic Reading Circles.

By Rev. Thomas McMillan, . . 79
Here and There in Catholicism. By

Henry Austin Adams, . . i93> 335
His Appearance was as Lightning and
His Raiment white as Snow.

(Frontispiece.}

Incorrigible Recidivist, An, . . .627
Inerrancy of Scripture in Light of the
Encyclical "Providentissimus Deus,"
The. By Patrick J. Cormican, S.J., i
Introduction to the Study of Society, An.

By Rev. George McDermot, C.S. P., 762
Irwinscroft. By F. C. Farinholt, . 443
Law of Moses and the Higher Criticism,
The. By Very Rev. A. F. Hewit,
D.D., 738

Le Pere Philippe. By Mary Boyle

O'Reilly, 157

Little People and Great Ideas. (Illus-
trated.) By John J. O'Shea, . . 77

Lustre of "The Light of Asia," The.

(Illustrated.} By Rev. R. M. Ryan, 809

Martyrs of Africa, 208 A.D., The. By

Henry Hayman, D.D., . . .481

Mary's Day Festival Procession in Ger-
many, (Frontispiece.}

Master's Cup, The. By Hildegarde, . 755

Miler the Apostate. By P. G. Smyth, . 44

Missionary Experiences. By Rev. Wal-
ter Elliott, 246

Missions and Mission- Workers in "The
Great Lone Land." (Illustrated.}
By E. S. Colcleugh, . . . . 108

Monasticism in Scotland. (Illustrated.}

By Edward Austin, . . . -74

More Light on " The Light of Asia."

By Rev. R. M. Ryan, . . .677

Mr. J. A. Creighton. (Frontispiece}

Museum of the Rocks, The. (Illus-
trated.} By William Seton, LL.D., 395

Musings of a Missionary. By Rev. Wal-
ter Elliott, 86

New System of Writing for the Blind,
A. (Illustrated.} By J. A. Zahm,
C.S.C., 32

Old Church in the Catskills, An. (Il-
lustrated.} By Rev. B. J. Reilly, . 305

Oxford University. (Illustrated.} By

Anna M. Clarke, . . . -49*

Papal Policy toward America, The,

Personal Character of the Renaissance
Pontiffs. (Illustrated.} By JohnJ.
O'Shea, Z

Personal Honesty in Civic Reform, . 106

Pope and England : To-day and To-mor-

row, Ite.-ByAnson T. Colt, . 361

Public-Hall Apostolate, The. By Rev.

J. M. Cleary, 577

Requirements of a Catholic Catechism,
The. By Rev. A. B. Schwenniger, I

Sae's Lamp. By F. A. Doughty, . .214

Seeming Liberal Check in England, A.
By Quasivates, c

Sister Katharine. - By Mary Boyle

O'Reilly, 72i

Some Notes on Disestablishment. By

F. E. Gilliat -Smith, 34

CONTENTS.

Legend, A. By T. L. L. Teeling, 802
Talk about New Books, lai, 269, 405, 564,

697, 846

Testimony of Character, The. (Illus-

t rated.) By P. J. MacCorry, . . 462

Theosophy and Protestantism.^ Rev,

Francis B. Doherty, . . - 182

Tide at its Flood, The. By Helen M.

Sweeney, . . . 5 12

Training-Schools for Nurses of the Sis-
ters of Charity, The. (Illustrated.}
By Thomas Divight, M.D., . 187

Trend of Total Abstinence, The, . . 843

Turkey and the Armenian Crisis. (Il-
lustrated.) By Theodore Peterson,
B.D., . . . . ^5

Two Captivating Prodigals. By M.

Murray- Wilson, . . . 3 22

Unselfish Woman, An. By M. K., . 3 l8

Uncle Sam's Violin.^ Percy Lee-
Hudson, 26

Uraniberg and Tycho Brahe. (Illustrat-
ed.) By A. Hinrichs, . . . 59

What George Canning owed to an Irish
Actor. (Illustrated.} By Patrick
SarsfieldCassidy, .... 77

What shall We do with Our Girls IBy

F. M. Edselas, 538

What the Thinkers Say, . 141, 279, 421,

S7i , 707, 855

Wordsworth : His Home and Works.

(Illustrated.} By Philip Oleron, . 349

POETRY.

Adsum ! (Illustrated.) By John J.

O'Shea, ...... 75

Agnes of Dunbar. By Lillian A. B.

Taylor, 2 3 2

Ascension, The. (Illustrated.} By M.

T. Waggaman, . . . J 99
At Night. By Frank H. Sweet, . . 808
Banagher Rhue. By Dora Sigerson, . 769
Dawn. By Bertrand L. Conway, . . 367
De Profundis in Tenebris. By V. D.

Rossman, 43

Dgg Watch, The. By Frank H. Sweet, 676
* Ecce, Venio." By Alba, . . .213
Foreseen. (Illustrated.) By Felix

Gray, 59

Holiest Picture, The. By Margaret H.

Lawless, 49

e.yM. T. Waggaman, . . 304
Mercy of Christ, The. By C. Filomene

Lepere, 2 45

New Spring, The. By Daniel Spillane, 105

Phidias, To. By Albert Reynaud, . 625
Penance of Galahad, The. By Louise

Imogen Guiney, .... 334

Pentecost, The. By Thomas F. Burke, 289
Race of the Gentiles, Of the. By John

J. VShea, 588

Salve Vale. M. E. Henry-Ruffin, . 696

Sir Hugh after the Boyne, 1690, . . 459
Smiles. By M. E. K., . . . .85
Soul's Release, The. By Anna Cox

Stephens, 826

Summer Rain. By Mary T. Waggaman, 526

Though Thou art Queen. By M. Rock, 181

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Adventures of Captain Horn, The, . 700

Armenian Crisis in Turkey, The, . . 269

Army Boys and Girls, .... 275

Bernadette of Lourdes : A Mystery, . 128
Churches and Castles of Mediaeval

France, 272

Course of Study for Roman Catholic

Parochial Schools, A, . . . . 703
Dervorgilla ; or, The Downfall of Ire-
land, 275

Dion and the Sibyls, . . . 407

Down at Caxton's, 131

English Seamen of the Sixteenth Cen-
tury, 405

Essays and Addresses : Religious, Lite-
rary, and Social, ..... 132
Foundations of Belief, The, . .. . 126
Foundation Studies in Literature, . . 701
Giulio Watts-Russell, Papal Zouave, . 565
ry of the Church of England, . 130
\ \ ixtory of the Councils of the Church, A, 416

y of the Popes, from the close of

the Middle Ages, The, ... 697
Indian and White in the North-west ; or,

A History of Catholicity in Montana, 848
Iroquois and the Jesuits, The, . . 701
Jewish Race in Ancient and Modern His-
tory, Thf 566

Juliette Irving and the Jesuit, . . 564

MIIUS fur die Katholischen Volks-
schulen in den Vereinigten Staaten

414

Lady and her Letters, A, ... 565
Life after Death ; or, Reason and Reve-
lation on the Immortality of the Soul, 273
Life of St. Anthony of Padua, . . 567
Little Comrades : A First Communion

Story, 847

Lotos-Time in Japan, .... 409

Loyalty to Church and State. The Mind
of his Excellency Francis Archbishop
Satolli, Apostolic Delegate, . .411

Marriage, ...... 564

Meditations in Motley, .... 702

Mooted Questions of History, . . 851

Occult Japan ; or, The Way of the Gods, 272

Others Saw Him : A Retrospect. As, . 127

Outre-Mer. Impressions of America, . 411
Plain Facts for Fair Minds : An appeal

to candor and common sense, . .417

Poems and Lyrics, ..... 408

Pope and the People, The, . . .121

Popular Scientific Lectures, . . . 125

Practical Lessons in Algebra, . . 704

Practicable Socialism, .... 276

Pretorium to Golgotha, From the, . 416

Questions on Vocations, . . . 703
Spirit of the Papacy, The, . . .568

Study in Party Politics, A Short, . . 567
Tales of the Fairies and of the Ghost
World collected from oral Tradition

in South-west Munster, . . . 846
World as the Subject of Redemption,

The 415

\S I.IC.HTMNC. AND HlS RAIMKNT \VHITH AS SNOW.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXI.

APRIL, 1895.

No. 361.

THE INERRANCY OF SCRIPTURE IN LIGHT OF THE
ENCYCLICAL " PROVIDENTISSIMUS DEUS."

BY PATRICK J. CORMICAN, S.J.,
(College of the Sacred Heart, Woodstock, Md.)

HE present age has come in for
an ample share of praise or
blame according to the different
stand-points from which its ac-
tivities are viewed. It is pre-
eminently the age of progress,
of education, of broad-minded-
ness, of liberal views, and, we
must add, of hostility to revealed
truth. In former times, as the
Holy Father says, the Catholic
apologist had to deal with men
who set private- reason above
the teaching office of the
Church, who rejected divine tra-
dition, and clung to Scripture as
the one source of revelation and the final appeal in matters of
faith. To-day we have to contend with the legitimate progeny
of the Reformers, to wit, the Rationalists, who, like succei
plagues of locusts, have swooped upon the remnant
supernatural left by their predecessors and
devoured it. " They deny that there is any such thing as
lation or inspiration or Holy Scripture at all ; they see

2 THE INERRANCY OF SCRIPTURE IN LIGHT OF [April,

only the forgeries and falsehoods of men ; they set down the
Scripture narratives as stupid fables and lying stories ; the
prophecies and the oracles of God are to them either predictions
made after the event, or forecasts formed by the light of
nature ; the miracles and the wonders of God's power are not
what they are said to be, but the startling effects of natural
law or else mere tricks or myths ; and the Apostolic Gospels
and writings are not the work of the Apostles at all." * This
" higher criticism," as it is used, or rather abused by godless
men, seems to have alarmed certain Catholic theologians and
Cartiolic scientists, who think that the best way to meet the foe
is to narrow inspiration to Faith and Morals, or if it must
extend to other parts of Scripture, let it be so attenuated as
not to exclude error. This view of inspiration, as we shall see,
is directly against the teaching of the Encyclical " Providentissi-
mus Deus."

In dealing with the Inerrancy of Scripture we have two
questions to ask and to answer :

I. First, does inspiration by its very nature and of necessity
exclude error?

II. What is the extent of inspiration in Holy Writ ?

The first question asks what is inspiration ; the second, how
far does it go : in philosophical language, one is concerned with
the comprehension, the other with the extension of the term.

I. To the first question we answer that inspiration, by its
very nature, is incompatible with error, so that a sentence or a
part of a sentence cannot be inspired and erroneous at the
same time. To show this, let us analyze the idea and see what
are the elements of which it is composed. From Jewish tradi-
tion, acknowledged and confirmed by Christ and his Apostles,
from Christian tradition, from the Councils of the Church as
well as from Holy Writ itself, we know that God is the Author
of Sacred Scripture. But in what sense is he its author? To
be the author of a thing is to be its source or efficient cause.
Now, God is not the author of Scripture in the sense of
universal or first cause ; else he might be called the author
of all books sacred and profane. Neither is he author of the
Bible as particular and sole cause ; for in that case there would
be no subject of inspiration, no penman inspired of God, no
inspiration properly so called. He must, then, be the author of
Scripture as principal cause, using the inspired writer as his
instrument. How does he use this living, intelligent, free instru-

* Encyclical.

1895.] THE ENCYCLICAL " PROVIDEN TISSIMUS DEUS." 3

ment ? or in other words, what is the effect of inspiration on
the sacred writer? It has a threefold effect: illumination of
the intellect to understand exactly what God wishes him to
write ; an impulse of the will to write just so much and no
more ; and divine assistance to express it in apt words and with
infallible truth. Without an enlightening of the writer's mind,
the book would not contain the thoughts of God but of man,
and hence God would not be its author. Without a movement
of the will, the hagiographer would not be an instrument in the
hands of God ; for, according to St. Thomas,* an instrument as
such must be moved by the principal agent. Without divine
assistance as he wrote, he might express what God wished,
more or less exactly, but not with infallible truth. This is the
Catholic idea of inspiration clearly laid down in the Encyclical :
" Because the Holy Ghost employed men as his instruments, we
cannot therefore say that it was those inspired instruments who
happened to fall into error and not the primary author. For
by supernatural power he so moved and impelled them to
write, he was so present to them, that the things which he
ordered and those only, they first understood rightly, then
willed to write down faithfully, and finally expressed in apt
words and with infallible truth." The argument contained in
the preceding passage is this : as the Holy Ghost cannot be the
author of error, and as the sacred writer must express his mes-
sage in apt words and with infallible truth, it follows that
whatever is written under the influence of inspiration cannot be
false ; that is, inspiration, as far as it goes, excludes error.

II. Now comes the question, How far does it go as a mat-
ter of fact? Does it extend to every statement, to every sen-
tence, to every word in the original text, or is it confined to
Faith and Morals? The answers given to this question by
Catholic theologians may be divided into two extremes and a
mean : one errs by excess, the other by defect, and, as a conse-
quence, the correct opinion holds a middle ground. Let us see
what ecclesiastical documents have to say on the subject. The
Council of Florence f (H39-45) defined that God is the author
of the Old and New Testament because both were written
under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. The Council of
Trent \ (1545-63) pronounced anathema against any one wh
refused to accept as sacred and canonical the books of Scrip-
ture, whole and entire with all their parts, as they are woi

*Summa Tk. % iii. q. fa, a. x. ^ Decretum pro Jacobs.

% Sessio iv., Decretum de Canonicis Scnptuns.

4 THE INERRANCY OF SCRIPTURE IN LIGHT OF [April,

be read in the Catholic Church and as contained in the old
Latin Vulgate. The Vatican Council (1870) explains why the
books of the Old and New Testament, whole and entire with
all their parts, are to be received as sacred and canonical and
are so received by the Church : " not because, having been
composed by human industry alone, they were afterwards
approved by her authority ; nor only because they contain
revelation without error ; but because, having been written
under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, they have God for
their Author."* And in the fourth canon of the same chapter
it adds : " If any one will not receive as sacred and canonical
the books of Holy Scripture, whole and entire with all their
parts, as enumerated by the sacred Tridentine Synod, or if any
one deny that they are divinely inspired ; let him be anathe-
ma." But, it may be asked, if it be solemnly defined that
the Scriptures are inspired with all their parts, how were Catho-
lics at liberty to dispute the extent of inspiration ? For the
simple reason that it was not clear what was meant by the
word " part " in the Tridentine definition. Nor was the doubt
removed by the Vatican Council ; for Cardinal Franzelin, in his
speech before the sacred synod, declared that nothing was
added to the definition of Trent as to the extent of inspiration,
and that it still remained an open question with theologians.
Here are the exact words of the cardinal :f " As regards the
extent of inspiration, by an express appeal to the Council of
'Trent is meant that those parts are to be believed inspired
which Trent declared to be sacred and canonical. But ques-
tions hitherto disputed among Catholics as to the sense in
which the phrase parts of books in the Tridentine decree should
be understood, are neither defined nor touched. Consequently
nothing has been added to the definition of Trent on the
extent of inspiration."

VERBAL INSPIRATION.

As an error by excess we have the theory of verbal inspira-
tion, which held that every word, not to say every inflectional
ending, in the original text was inspired. At one time this
opinion was defended to some extent in Catholic schools, and
was held by the first reformers ; but I must add in justice, their
successors have made ample amends for this bit of strictness by
going to the other extreme. We reject verbal inspiration on the
following grounds : (a) First of all from the passage of the En-
cyclical already cited, which requires "apt words" and nothing

Constitute Dn Filius, cap. 2. f Collectio Lacensis, vol. vii. p. 1621.

1895.] THE ENCYCLICAL " PROVIDEN TISSIMUS DEUS." 5

more, to convey God's message to mankind. Provided they are
capable of expressing the meaning intended, that is sufficient.
Now, that the same ideas can be expressed in a variety of ways,
nobody will deny who has studied the synonyms of grammar,
the figures of rhetoric, or the convertible propositions of logic.
(b) In the second place, the theory of verbal inspiration multi-
plies miracles without necessity, and miracles are not to be
assumed without proof. In this matter nothing more is to be
granted than what is required in order that God should be, in
a true sense, the author of Scripture ; and for this it is suffi-
cient, as a general rule, that he supply the matter of the sacred
volume, the ideas, the truths to be penned, (c) Moreover, we
find a diversity of style corresponding to the character and learn-
ing of the different writers ; for example, Isaias is sublime in
thought and refined in diction, whereas the style of the shep-
herd Amos is simple to a degree bordering on rusticity. Here
and there in the sacred books we find faults against taste or
anomalies in grammar and rhetoric, which are hard to explain
if we suppose verbal dictation on the part of the Holy Spirit.
If God wished the inspired writer to be considered as a mere
amanuensis who took down dictation word for word, why did
the Divine Author change his style and commit solecisms in
grammar as if to conceal his own identity ? (d) Again, the words
of Christ are differently related by different evangelists. Take,
for example, the consecration under the form of bread. St.
Matthew (xxvi. 26) says : " Take ye and eat, this is my body/'
St. Mark (xiv. 12) has: " Take ye, this is my body." St. Luke
(xxii. 19): " This is my body, which is given for you." St. Paul
(I. Cor. xi. 24) : " Take ye and eat : this is my body which shall
be delivered for you." Nay more, one and the same writer,
Moses, gives the Decalogue, which was written by God's own
hand, in different words and varied style in different places.
(Cfr. Exod. xx.; Lev. xix., xxvi. ; Deut. v.) Hence we conclude
that different words can express the same ideas without destroy-
ing inspiration, and therefore inspiration per se does not require
a set form of words, (e) As a last argument against verbal in-
spiration we may refer to the second book of Machabees, where
the writer apologizes for poverty of style and bad arrangement,
while he offers no excuse for the matter, which was suggested
by the Holy Spirit, who is above excuse. And St. Paul himself
(II. Cor. xi.) confesses that he is " rude in speech, but not in
knowledge," and the reason doubtless was that his speech was
human, while his knowledge was divine.

6 THE INERRANCY OF SCRIPTURE IN LIGHT OF [April,

RESTRICTED AND ATTENUATED INSPIRATION,

Just as the theory of verbal inspiration erred by going too far,
so other theories sin by not going far enough ; they restrict inspir-
ation to certain parts, or they reduce it to a minimum which
does not exclude error, or they deny the historical character of
certain books. In the seventeenth century Holden, a doctor of
the Sorbonne, held that inspiration extended only to those parts
of Scripture which are either purely doctrinal or have a neces-
sary and proximate connection with doctrine ; in the other parts
God assisted the inspired writer just ' as he assists any pious
author whatever, neither more nor less.* Holden's book was
condemned by the Sorbonne. Erasmus and Grotius went a step
further and admitted errors in the primitive text. In our own
days Rohling denied the veracity of Scripture in science and
natural history ; f and Lenormant extended the same doctrine to
certain historical parts, such as the first ten chapters of Genesis,
together with the books of Job and Ruth. According to him,
these writings were not composed with a view to form a history,
and have no historical value whatever ; they are mere myths,
and only a figurative way of presenting sublime truths. His
book* is on the index. Canon di Bartolo, whose book is also
on the index, distinguished a maximum and a minimum in inspir-
ation : the former regards faith and morals, and excludes error ;
the latter covers the remaining ground, and is compatible with
misstatements and erroneous views. The minimum merely keeps
the hagiographer from contradicting what the maximum dictated,
but may allow him to blunder in science or history. Monsignor
d'Hulst, who occupied the Notre Dame pulpit in Paris for some
Lenten seasons past, is thought to favor lax views on inspiration.
He divides Catholic opinions on the subject into a right wing,
a left wing, and a centre. To the right wing belong those who
admit neither error nor the shadow of error in the original text
of Scripture ; to the left wing those who admit inaccuracies not
to say downright falsehoods ; in the centre, the place of virtue,
stands Monsignor d'Hulst himself. What his precise views are
on the subject in question is largely a matter of surmise, for he
does not state them very clearly. Judging from the sympathy
ith which he throws himself into the opinions of the left wing
and champions its cause, it is easy to divine on which side his

* Divincc Fidei Analysis, lib. i. cap. 5.

t Die Inspiration der Bibel und ihre Bedentungfiir die frete Forschung

\ Les Origines de rhistoire fapres la Bible, etc. / C riteri 'theologici.

1895.] THE ENCYCLICAL " PROVIDENTISSIMUS DEUS." 7

sympathies lie, and what vote he would cast when it came to
an issue.*

On account of an article which appeared in the Nineteenth Cen-
tury for July, 1884, Cardinal Newman is generally set down for
the opinion that obiter dicta are not inspired. No doubt he
favored that theory and would be only too glad if it could be
held. He had a tendency, in general, to make things as easy as
possible for the Catholic apologist, and to lessen the difficulties
which confront those who propose to enter the Church of Rome.
The object of the aforesaid article is to prove that the inspiration
of obiter dicta in Scripture is not de fide ; and that when a Cath-
olic student is pressed by a Scriptural difficulty which he has
neither the learning nor the ability to grapple with, he may
pass it by without violating communion with his church. While
his main purpose was to show that it is not of faith that obiter
dicta are inspired, the cardinal went further and adduced posi-
tive reasons to prove that, as a matter of fact, they are not in-
spired. On page 189 he writes : " And now comes the important
question, in what respect are the Canonical books inspired ? It
cannot be in every respect unless we are bound de fide to believe
that ' terra in ceternum stat,' and that heaven is above us, and
that there are no antipodes. And it seems unworthy of the
Divine Greatness that the Almighty should, in his revelation of
himself to us, undertake mere secular duties and assume the office
of a narrator, as such, or an historian or geographer except so far
as the secular duties bear directly upon the revealed truth." Again,
on page 197 : " And here I am led on to inquire whether obiter
dicta are, conceivable in an inspired document. We know that
they are held to exist and even required in treating of the dog-
matic utterances of Popes, but are they compatible with inspira-
tion ? The common opinion is that they are not. . . . Now,
it is in favor of their being such unauthoritative obiter dicta that,
unlike those which occur in dogmatic utterances of Popes and
Councils, they are, in Scripture, not doctrinal, but mere unim-

* La Question Biblique, Correspondant, Janvier, 1893.

Monsignor d'Hulst, as Rector of the Catholic University of Paris, together with the
professors in the theological faculty of the university, sent a letter of adhesion and submission
to the Encyclical, and also a personal letter to the Holy Father. . In this latter he professes
that he did not intend to set forth his personal opinions, but only to give account of various
hypotheses of Catholic authors, in his article on La Question Biblique. Among these he says
there was one which he then regarded as a free opinion, viz., "that which limits the guaran-
tee of absolute inerrancy resulting from the fact of inspiration to matters of faith and morals."
He then adds : " I willingly acknowledge that the latter part of the Encyclical does not allow
this opinion to be held any longer." These and other letters of adhesion are published in an
appendix to Father Brandi's La Questione Biblica.'&Q. C. W.

8 THE INERRANCY OF SCRIPTURE IN LIGHT OF [April,

portant statements of fact ; whereas those of Popes and Councils
may relate to faith and morals, and are said to be uttered obiter,
because they are not contained within the scope of the formal
definition, and imply no intention of binding the consciences of
the faithful. There does not seem to be any serious difficulty in
admitting their existence in Scripture"

Obiter dicta as commonly understood include such things as
St. Paul's cloak, Toby's dog, and the salutations at the end of
the epistles ; but the cardinal uses the phrase in a wider sense,
when he says (p. 198) : " By obiter dicta I also mean such
statements as we find in the book of Judith, that Nabuchodono-
sor ivas king of Ninivc" This extension of obiter dicta and
corresponding limitation of inspiration would give to a large
part of the Written Word merely human authority ; and
indeed in one place (p. 190) he seems to argue for the divine
authorship of the Bible history " in its substantial fulness "
only. And yet, according to Father MacDevitt,* there is noth-
ing in Newman's opinion " to offend the most sensitive
theological acumen." When taken to task by Bishop Healey
for his broad view, the cardinal called attention to his main
proposition, that the inspiration of obiter dicta is not of faith,
and that " we must not confuse what is indisputable as well as
true, with what may indeed be true, yet is disputable" (p. 187).
Granting that the question under consideration had not ; been
defined by the church, and was therefore disputable to a certain
extent, it is as clear as day that he favored and championed
the negative side while admitting that the affirmative is a com-
mon opinion among Catholic theologians.

This " broad " view of inspiration was taken up by Dr.
Mivart and made broader yet. In the Nineteenth Century for
July, 1887, he writes as follows : " In the matter of Biblical
criticism Cardinal Newman has himself taken a step which,
though a very cautious and short one, as befits his responsible
position as prince of the church, yet seems to indicate a road
along which persons less officially fettered may boldly advance "
(p. 47). As the doctor was not hampered by official fetters he
takes a stride befitting an advanced thinker, and asserts that
the inspired passages in Scripture '" may consist only of brief
sentences scattered at wide intervals through the sacred books "
(ibid.) He would fain restrict inspiration to faith and morals,
and let scientists take care of the rest of the Bible. " For," he
goes on to say, " God has taught us by the actual facts of
the history of Galileo that it is to men of science that he has

* Introduction to the Sacred Scriptures, p. 115.

1895-] THE ENCYCLICAL " PROVIDENTISSIMUS DEUS." 9

committed the elucidation of scientific questions, scriptural or
otherwise, and not to a consensus of theologians or to ecclesi-
astical assemblies or tribunals " (p. 50). Take away " these two
bugbears of timid Catholics, the consensus of theologians and
the ordinary teaching," and liberate us " from every bond save
the formal decrees of the Sovereign Pontiff teaching the whole
church ex cathedra as to faith and morals " (ibid.} If the
doctor had had more regard for the consensus of theologians
and the ordinary teaching of the church, he would never have
written his articles on Hell; or if he did write them, they
should not have been put on the index. I hasten to add that
his noble submission to such a humiliation shows his heart to
be in the right place, and his practice to be better than .his
theory. In his article on the " Catholic Church and Biblical
Criticism " already referred to, Dr. Mivart predicted that the
Holy See would refrain from condemning the conclusions
arrived at by such men as Kuenen, Wellhausen, Colenso, and
Reuss, although they may startle and offend pious ears ; that as
the church could accommodate her old ways and habits to
heliocentric Astronomy in the seventeenth century, to Geology
in the eighteenth, and to Biology in the nineteenth, so in the
twentieth would she take up the results of Higher Criticism
even as practised by Rationalists, and make them her own. His
prediction has been falsified in the event ; he promised fair
weather, and a storm came ; he cried peace, but there is no
peace ; lax views on inspiration are forbidden by the Encyclical.
I may mention in passing that Dr. Briggs, of New York,
belongs to that new school of Biblical Criticism * whose object
seems to be, to pick flaws in the inspired writings. The third
of the charges brought against him ran as follows: "The
Presbyterian Church of the United States of America charges
the Rev. Charles A. Briggs, D.D., with teaching that errors may
have existed in the original text of Holy Scripture, as it came
from the hand of its authors : which is contrary to the essential
doctrine taught in the Holy Scripture and in the standards of
the said church, that the Holy Scripture is the word of God
written, immediately inspired, and the rule of faith and
practice."

VIA MEDIA.

While rejecting verbal inspiration on the one hand, and a
restricted or attenuated form on the other, we hold that every

* As to the use and abuse, the province and the- limits of Higher and Lower Biblical
Criticism, I refer the reader to an article of rare merit in the American Catholic Quarterly
for July, 1894, by Dr. Grannan, of the Catholic University.

io THE INERRANCY OF SCRIPTURE IN LIGHT OF [April,

sentence and every statement in the original text were inspired.
The Encyclical leaves no room for doubt on this point, for it
says : * " It is absolutely wrong and forbidden either to narrow in-
spiration to certain parts only of Holy Scripture, -or to admit that
the sacred writer has erred. For the system of those who, in
order to rid themselves of difficulties, do not hesitate to con-
cede that divine inspiration regards things of faith and morals
and nothing beyond, because (as they wrongly think) in a ques-
tion of the truth or falsehood of a passage, we should con-
sider not so much what God said as the reason and purpose
which he had in saying it, this system cannot be tolerated.
For all the books, which the church receives as sacred and
canonical, are written, wholly and entirely with all their parts,
at the dictation of the Holy Ghost ; and so far is it from
being possible that any error can co-exist with inspiration, that
inspiration not only is essentially incompatible with error, but
excludes and rejects it as absolutely and necessarily, as it is
impossible that God himself, the Supreme Truth, can utter that
which is not true. . . . Hence because the Holy Ghost
employed men as his instruments, we cannot therefore say
that it was these inspired instruments who happened to fall into
error, and not the primary author. For by supernatural power
he so moved and impelled them to write he was so present to
them that those things which he ordered and those only . . .
they expressed in apt words and with infallible truth. Other-
wise it could not be said that he was the author of the entire
Scripture. ... It follows that those who maintain that an
error is possible in any genuine passage of the sacred writings,
either pervert the Catholic notion of inspiration, or make God
the author of such error. And so emphatically were all the
Fathers and Doctors agreed that the divine writings, as left by
the hagiographers, are free from all error, that they labored
earnestly, with no less skill than reverence, to reconcile with
each other the numerous passages which seem at variance the
very passages which in great measure have been taken up by
the * higher criticism ' ; for they were unanimous in laying it
down that those writings in their entirety and in all their parts
were equally from the afflatus of Almighty God, and that God,
speaking by the sacred writers, could not set down anything but
what was truer According to the doctrine here stated it is
wrong and forbidden to restrict inspiration to certain parts of
Scripture or to admit that the sacred writer has erred : to admit
error is to impugn the veracity of God or to pervert the Catho-

* Translation as given in the American Catholic Quarterly Review.

1895-] THE ENCYCLICAL " PROVIDENTISSIMUS DEUS." \ \

lie idea of inspiration ; for the sacred writer wrote those things
and those only which God ordered, and he expressed them in
apt words and with infallible truth. Here, then, is an answer
to our two questions as to the nature and extent of inspiration :

I. Inspiration by its nature is incompatible with error.

II. Inspiration extended to every sentence and statement in the
primitive text.

Are we, then, to conclude that inspiration begins and ends
with the matter of the sacred volume ? Is it concerned only with
the thoughts, the ideas, the statements, and with nothing be-
yond ? No, we are not to lay down a hard-and-fast rule,- which
admits of no exception. It seems to belong to the principal
author to determine, in a general way, the specific form of the
inspired message, whether it shall be in prose or in verse, in the
shape of an epistle or a psalm or a dialogue or a narrative.
Although inspiration per se does not require a set form of words,
per accidens it may, when there is question of a mystery, such as
the Blessed Trinity, which demands exact wording ; or in pas-
sages in which the Holy Ghost intended to supply in after ages
the precise words of dogmatic formulas ; or again, where a mys-
tical meaning is superadded, or the form of a sacrament exactly
prescribed. Of course, it is not always easy to determine, in
particular, when the style was dictated word for word, and when
it was not. In certain cases the connection between the thought
and a set form of words may 'be necessary, in others it may.be
only convenient, and in others still it may be altogether indifferent.

As truth cannot contradict truth, so there can be no real con-
tradiction between science and the Bible. How, then, are we to
reconcile apparent contradictions ? First of all let the claims of
science or archaeology be proved beyond doubt, and let nothing
be taken for granted. Those who attack the Bible are to be
suspected on general principles, from their very hostility to
everything supernatural. Their data are often uncertain, their
assertions rash, their conclusions forced and illogical. While
subjecting heaven and earth to human reason, they are them-
selves the most unreasonable of mortals. A Babylonian brick or
an Egyptian sarcophagus has more weight in their eyes than all
the books of the Canon put together. They seem to forget that
early chroniclers were more poets than historians ; that dates
were generally given in round numbers rather than exact figures ;
and that national pride made primitive peoples claim a far higher
antiquity than belonged to them. Only the other day, Profes-
sor Erman, a learned German archaeologist, struck off, at a sin-
gle blow, a thousand years from Egyptian chronology ; and his

12 THE INERRANCY OF SCRIPTURE IN LIGHT OF [April,

critics declare that further modifications in the same direction
are needed still. * " In matters of chronology Professor Erman
differs greatly from Mariette and Maspero, for he places the
sixth dynasty as late as B.C. 2500, while they date it at B.C.
3700 and 3300 respectively. There is no doubt that serious
modifications in Egyptian chronology must shortly be made."

What is said of archaeology may be said also of those sciences
which claim to contradict revealed truth. Last August Lord
Salisbury, as president of the British Association, delivered a
remarkable address at Oxford on the limitations of our present
scientific knowledge, which was supposed to be so thorough and
far-reaching. Towards the close of his speech, taking up the
subject of evolution, his lordship showed that, in the face of
certain difficulties which he discussed, the laity is justified in
returning a verdict of " Not proven " on the wider issues of the
Darwinian school ; that the modern scientist has no resource but
to fall back on the mediate or immediate principle of design ;
and that, with men of common sense, modern discoveries are
powerless to dislodge the old belief in a Creator and Ruler of
the universe.

As the first step to be taken against the enemies of the
Bible is to have them prove their point beyond a doubt, so a
second would be, to make sure that the text in question be
genuine and complete. The original writings, as they came from
the hand of the sacred penman, have long since disappeared,
and we have nothing to-day but copies of the primitive text.
Now, as the Holy Father says, it is true, no doubt, that copy-
ists have made mistakes, although a mistake in any particular
case is not to be admitted except when the proof is clear.
Even the Latin Vulgate, which was declared by the Council of
Trent to be the official text and to be substantially correct, is
admitted to contain errors in matters of minor importance ; this
seems plain from the consent of theologians, from the preface
to the Vulgate itself, as well as from the fact that several popes
have set about preparing as correct an edition as possible.
Hence when the Holy Father speaks of the absolute inerrancy
of Scripture he is careful to mention the " genuine " text, or
the sacred writings " as left by the hagiographers." To deter-
mine whether any particular text be genuine or not, is the pro-
vince of textual or " lower criticism."

When the claims of science have been proved to a certainty
and the text shown to be genuine, if there be any clash be-
two, we must have recourse to a principle laid down

* Nature, October 25, 1894.

1895.] THE ENCYCLICAL " PROVIDENTISSIMUS DEUS." 13

in the Encyclical : we must distinguish between the absolute and
relative truth of Scripture. An example will make my meaning
clear. Take that passage in the book of Josue where it is said,
that " the sun stood still in the midst of the heaven, and hasted
not to go down the space of one day" (x. 13). Here the sacred

writer seems to imply that the sun moves round the earth a

scientific error ! We must remember, as the Holy Father says,
that " ordinary speech primarily and properly describes what
comes under the senses ; and somewhat in the same way the
sacred writers . . . put down what God, speaking to men,
signified, in the way that men could understand and were accus-
tomed to." They used the language of their day to describe
phenomena which the Holy Spirit did not intend them to ex-
plain scientifically. If the Divine Author intended to give a
complete system of astronomy or geology, no doubt he would
have taken care that his human instrument used words which
should be scientifically more correct. But as that was not the
object of supernatural revelation, all the Holy Spirit wished was,
that the words used should be capable of bearing a true sense
according to the principles of hermeneutics and the genius of
human language. The words may be vague at times, as in the
first part of Genesis, where the Hebrew word (yotri) for day
etymologically may signify a period of years, or a space of
twenty-four hours. Again, it is not necessary to suppose that
the inspired writer always knew the exact explanation of the
phenomena which he described. Such being the case, we ask,
if scientific men can speak of the sun as " rising " and " setting "
without any prejudice to their veracity, even though they know
better, why should similar expressions be considered errors in
Scripture, which was never intended as a scientific treatise ?

In the words of the Encyclical, let scholars " loyally hold
that God, the Creator and Ruler of all things, is also the
Author of the Scriptures ; and that therefore nothing can be
proved, either by physical science or archaeology, which can
really contradict the Scripture. ... As time goes on, mis-
taken views die and disappear ; but truth remaineth and groweth
stronger for ever and ever." Let us bear in mind the golden
rule of St. Augustine : " If in the sacred books I meet anything
which seems contrary to truth, I shall not hesitate to conclude
that either the text is faulty, or that the translator has not ex-
pressed the meaning of the passage, or that I myself do not
understand."

14 BROOK FARM TO-DA y. [April,

BROOK FARM TO-DAY.

BY A. A. McGINLEY.

|F it were not that the revered name of Father
& Hecker is inseparably connected with Brook Farm,
H j| where he passed through some of the most inter-
esting phases of his singular spiritual life, the
place might never have held any interest for
Catholics beyond what is usually given by them to similar
monuments outside the church.

Not that Brook Farm ever assumed a character exclusively
religious, but the study of its inner life in the spiritual sense,
as illustrated in the lives of the majority of its members, is only
another illustration of the unrestful wanderings of the human
soul into alien paths in its yearning search for truth.

It is in this sense that it is looked upon by Catholics as
outside the church. Its social ambition for the material improve-
ment of society appealed as strongly to Catholics as to Pro-
testants.

We have not only, then, been led into a closer interest in its
material history on account of Father Hecker's connection with
it, but in the consideration which this brings before us of the
high-souled motives, pure aspirations, and generous impulses
that moved these men and women with one heart and one mind
to give the world a great object-lesson in the practice of the
golden rule, we are brought face to face with the fact that in
our daily lives we are side by side with those who are as capa-
ble of heroism and self-sacrifice in the cause of truth as the
best among us ; that a change of their place to our own, with
its helps and graces, and its sure light to guide our feet, would
prove, perhaps, that they were worthier than we of the posses-
sion of " the pearl of great price."

The failure of the Brook Farm community is not attributed,
by themselves at least, as due to any falling off in the spirit
that actuated them in forming the organization, and when it
came to the end of its short-lived existence in 1847, about six
years after its foundation, the leaders and many of its members
went their several ways into the wide world disappointed, per-
haps disheartened, at the futility of their human efforts in try-

I895-] BROOK FARM TO-DAY. I5

ing to materialize a day-dream, but with the fire that had urged
them on to the endeavor still unquenched in their hearts.

Thirty years afterwards an attempt was made by one of the
surviving members to have a re-union of the old brotherhood.
Many of those who could not be present at it replied to the
invitation sent them in terms which told that age had not worn
away their early hopes. William H. Channing wrote : " The faith
and longing for the perfect organization of society have only
deepened with time " ; and Charles A. Dana declared too in his
reply that his sentiments were still unchanged, believing that
" the ends for which we then labored are sure at last in good
time to be realized for mankind."

About three years after the departure of the Brook Farm
community, the city of Roxbury, which has since lost that dig-
nity, having been annexed to Boston in 1867, purchased the
land and the houses, and moved the city almshouse there. The
-community had erected several large houses on the grounds,
but the best of these were destroyed by fire. The " Eyrie,"
the " Pilgrim " which had been so called after some staunch
Puritans from Plymouth the " Hive," and the " Cottage," besides
.a barn and a greenhouse, remained on the ground when the
poor-farm took possession. The two latter are still standing.
The " Pilgrim " has disappeared, leaving only a heap of stones
to remind one of the walls that once sheltered those stout-
hearted champions of liberty and fraternity. The " Eyrie " has
disappeared likewise. After it was demolished some of its tim-
bers were used for the construction of a pig-pen literally,
" pearls before swine."

It seemed almost like a mockery to those brave protestors
.against human misery that their successors at the farm should
.be the very ones who represented that misery in one of its
most unfortunate forms.

" Here," as Hawthorne wrote, " where once we toiled with
hopeful hearts, the town paupers, aged, nerveless, and disconso-
late, creep sluggishly afield."

In 1861, some time after the removal of the poor-farm to
other quarters, Brook Farm was used as a camping ground for
the Massachusetts Second Regiment of Infantry, under Colonel
George H. Gordon. " Camp Andrews " it was called, after the
governor then in office. They remained from May II till July
8. Colonel Gordon has written a history of the regiment under
the title of From Brook Farm to Cedar Mountain* with an inter-
esting account of its encampment at the former place.

*F,rom Brook Farm to Cedar Mountain, Boston : James R. Osgood & Co.

!6 BROOK FARM TO-DA v. [April,

" I can recall it," he wrote, " in all the poetry of a romance
which the pen of Hawthorne in the wildest hours of his most
exuberant fancy could never excite in the pages of his Blithe-
dale story. I can see it too in a reality which has for ever
and for ever exorcised the fitful play-day of the dreamers who
preceded us. Brook Farm is to me for ever hereafter holy
ground; it has been consecrated by our occupancy, redeemed
by the solemn tread of our columns upon its green sod ; while
its story shall live as an organ strain in the grand epic of
American liberty."

Another period of vacancy passed after the last sound of
trumpet call and beat of drum had died away from hill and
meadow land, before Brook Farm again re-echoed among its
solitudes with the stir and bustle of human life.

" GETHSEMANE."

Some twenty-three years ago a corporation, formed among
a number of Lutheran congregations, purchased the farm and
founded there a home for orphans under the " auspices " of
Martin Luther. It is known as the " Martin Luther Home for
Orphans." On the slope of the hill, around which the Second
Regiment lay encamped, they prepared a place for a cemetery
which is called " Gethsemane." Any other name almost would

1895-]

BROOK FARM TO-DAY.

have been better than this. No shady olive-tree or drooping
willow suggests that ancient retreat of solitude and prayer; not
so much as a shrub casts a shadow against the noontide sun
upon this lonely spot. Here the white burial slab seems to
bleach still whiter beneath the sun's scorching rays, and the
freshly-turned earth of new-made graves dries up and scatters

THE MARGARET FULLER COTTAGE.

itself upon the green sward at the lightest touch of the summer
wind.

Except for this one new feature, Brook Farm remains
unchanged in its appearance. It is perhaps even more isolated
and less inhabited, except for the sleeping inmates of the graves
on the hill, than it was in the days when the blithesome Brook-
Farmers made wood and vale re-echo with the pleasant sounds
of life.

Not far from the cemetery, on another hill, stands the cot-
tage still called the "Margaret Fuller Cottage," which is now
occupied by a farmer and his family, who sows and reaps and
garners his crops in much the same fashion as did those dreamy
husbandmen who ploughed furrows in these same fields before
him, and sowed the seed of human kindness in their hearts as
VOL. LXI. 2

BROOK FARM TO-DA Y. [April,

they thus learned in the sweat of their brow how to sympa-
thize with the lot of those who toiled not as they did, " of their
own sweet will," but from the unromantic and real necessity of
" tent, and raiment, and bread."

Of the indications that remain of the earlier inhabitants, the
Margaret Fuller cottage best suggests their idea of the pictur-
esque and artistic. Removed from its present position to the
edge of a dusty roadside it might look homely and ordinary
enough, but it is placed so prettily here among the sheltering
trees that one might imagine that nature had beforehand raised
the mound and planted out her garden round about it, just in
preparation for its coming. It is painted a deep red, which shows
in pleasing contrast to the surrounding verdure, from amid
which it peeps through the occasional vistas in the landscape
that one catches in a walk around the farm.

Far less romantic in its appearance to-day is the old farm-
house, or, as it was more generally called, the " Hive." This is
the building properly known as the Home. A house that had
been used by the Brook Farm community as a factory or work-
shop has been removed from its former site and joined on to
the Hive, making a place large enough to accommodate about
fifty orphans. It looks bleak and barren enough now to destroy
at first sight the poetic feelings of any stray Brook-Farmer of
old that might chance to revisit the haunts of early days.

But the little orphans, in blissful unconsciousness of poetic
feelings, romp about the place as noisily and as irreverently as
they would had no grave-eyed philosophers or social reformers
sat within its walls and dreamed of a time when the great mil-
lennium would come, and every one would be happy and good
the live-long day, just as these little German orphans seem
to be.

Around under the trees and on the benches sit tiny frdu-
leincn plying their knitting-needles like little old ladies, making
socks for themselves or their brothers, who, no doubt glad even
at this age at being able to shift the larger share of care for
domestic economy upon the other sex, caper around and make
themselves heard in true masculine fashion.

The interior of the house bears no traces of the comfort and
cheerfulness that it is described as presenting to the traveller
in the days of its Arcadian existence. The uncovered floors
and ancient walls might make one shiver even on a summer
day at the thought of being here in mid-winter in a blustering
north-easter.

I895-] BROOK FARM TO-DAY. , 9

The old hearth, however, which Hawthorne pictures so vividly
in Blithedale, is still here, though its cheery blaze no longer
casts flickering shadows from wall to floor on winter nights.
A modern stove imparts the necessary warmth instead. On the
wall of the reception room hangs a picture of the "great re-
former "; another is placed in the children's dormitory, where
it meets the first gaze from the sleepy eyes of these poor inno-
cents when they wake in the morning, little knowing that the
one whose picture thus greets them has deprived their young
eyes of fairer visions and driven from their sight far sweeter
faces and tenderer smiles from pictured saints and dear Madon-
nas.

Near the house a small printing establishment has been
erected in which the orphan boys are placed to learn that trade
when old enough. Two German papers are published here, the
Zeuge der Wahrheit and the Lutherischer Anzeiger* which set
forth in language poetic, trenchant, or merely prosaic, as the
inspiration comes, the doctrines of the hardy Luther and the
present results of the glorious Reformation that is, not all of
them.

It is a relief to turn away from this view of the place to
seek elsewhere on the farm for reminders of former days. The
brook yet strays between its grassy banks below the green ter-
races in front of the farm-house ; but here where it once flowed
clearest, and lent the sweet sound of its murmuring flow to the
music of the summer night, the young urchins have dug a large
hollow place into which the waters are drained, and this they
use as a bathing-place, it seems, when the privilege of a walk
to the distant river is denied them.

There is a little spot here that reminds one again that the
idea those early agriculturists had of sylvan beauty expressed
itself in many pretty ways. They formed a kind of fairy circle
and planted it about with trees and shrubs ; then dug a bed
for the brook to flow around it, with a little bridge for passage
to the brink.

It is in the solitude of the woods which make a background
to the farm that one can best recall in fancy the forms that
once strayed among its shadowy paths, and here too may be
seen the favorite haunts of that " knot of dreamers" whose
half-real, half-fancied history Hawthorne has woven into the
story of his own experiences in the place.

* Zeuge der Wahrheit : Witness of the Truth ; Lutherischer Anzeiger : Lutheran Adver-
tiser.

BROOK FARM TO-DA Y. [April,

Thinking that it might prove a fruitless search if I tried to
follow the intricacies of the woodland paths alone in looking
for places of interest, I asked at the house if one of the little
orphan boys might not accompany me, knowing full well that
there could be but few places in the woods that the prying
eyes of these small boys had not sought out in their rambles.

The favor was cordially granted me, and a bright little fel-
low, with eyes as sharp as the squirrels' that peeped from their
coverts in the trees, was allowed to go with me as guide. I
tried to designate to my youthful escort the places I wanted
to find by describing them in terms that would meet his young
ideas of them, as I had found that my first inquiry had puzzled
him exceedingly.

" Do you know where * Eliot's pulpit ' is ? " I had asked
him ; he shook his head in a positive way, convinced that there
was no such unlikely object in the place. I tried to explain.
" It is a big rock or heap of rocks piled together with a place
on top like a pulpit." He still looked puzzled. "And there is
a cave underneath." " Oh, yes ! " he broke in ; "I know where
the cave is." I never heard of a small boy to whom a cave in
the woods did not have a special attraction as offering a possi-
ble hiding-place for wild Indians, bears, or any of those awful
things that fill a small boy's dreams. He guided me directly
to it, where it may be recognized without difficulty by any one
who has read Hawthorne's perfect sketch of it.

I was still looking at it, trying to draw in imagination the
figure of John Eliot as he stood there pouring out his fervid
eloquence into the hearts of his dusky hearers two centuries
ago, and thinking, too, of that later scene that the pen of
fiction has drawn of the humiliated Zenobia bending here in
tearless agony, and Coverdale standing behind her in the
shadow looking on in unspoken sympathy, when suddenly my
little companion disappeared as completely as the vague
shadows I had been evoking from the dim past. If I had been
deserted by him among these uncertain paths, my dilemma, I
fear, would have been as great as that of the helpless " Babes
in the Woods," but he presently reappeared, emerging from
beneath the further side of the rock. He had crept into the
cave, which has an outlet on the other side, through which,
however, only such a small body as he possessed could possibly
creep.

Our next tramp was to the river. Of course there was no
need of any assistance from me in making my guide remember

1 895.] BROOK FARM TO-DAY. 2I

where that was. So on I followed, over rocks and brambles,
stumbling awkwardly into the hollows that lay concealed in the
pathway, over which my little friend hopped as unconsciously
as a hare, pushing the shrubbery aside as he went, and holding
it back in the thickest places to make a passage for me.

Soon we got beyond into a beautiful pine grove, which no
doubt resounded in days of yore with the merry laugh of gay
picnickers from the farm. Here it was -that they played theii
masquerade when Dana, Channing, and Parker, and even
Ripley, the dignified president of the community, disported like
children among the trees, dressed in the fantastic garbs of wild
Indians, gipsies, and dancing-girls. One who has written remi-
niscences of those days describes the appearance that was pre-
sented by one of the members one of the grave and reverend
seigniors too as he appeared in the costume of a then very
popular danseuse.

This pine grove seems now almost like a deserted church ;
for here these same merry-makers wandered in grave and
thoughtful hours, plunged in mournful revery perhaps, or hold-
ing still communion with " Him who seeth in secret." One can
walk over the ground, carpeted as it is with deep layers of
pine-needles, as noiselessly as a kitten, while the fragrance of
the pine floats upwards at the pressure of one's footsteps like
the sweet breath of incense.

Not very unlike cathedral pillars, too, do these stately pine-
trees look in the distant forest shade, with long deserted aisles
fading away into dim perspective. It seems a fit haunting-place
for the restless spirits who once walked here in bodily shape.

One could readily imagine that a fancied Priscilla stood
under yon lofty pine, gazing upwards with far-away vision, and
listening to spirit-whisperings among the trees.

We continued our journey towards the river, and at last,
after many devious windings, broke through the shrubbery on
the other side of the woods, into an open meadow beyond which
lay the beautiful Charles. From where we viewed it, we could
see it flowing through the broad fields on either side in a clear,
open stream ; no overhanging trees or bushes cast midnight
shadows on its sparkling face ; but further on, to our left, a
clump of trees stood, huddled together in a. thick mass, their
heavy branches leaning far over the stream, reaching out
almost like human arms, as if to shut out our gaze from what
lay beyond. Under the gloomy arch thus made the river
flowed onward, black and silent. No doubt this was the spot

22 BROOK FARM TO-DA y. [April,

" with the barkless stump of a tree aslantwise over the water "
that was afterwards made to play a part in that strange mid-
night tragedy ; but I had no desire to explore these gloomy
depths, and that part of the river near which we stood sparkled
so cheerily in the sunshine that I had not the heart to pry into
its buried secrets.

It seems an ungrateful thing in Hawthorne, after all the

A FANCIED PRISCILLA STOOD UNDER YON LOFTY PINE.

pleasant days he spent here, to have written that gruesome
>ry and to use his former companions as characters upon

riuch to build subjects for it ; for although he denied having

them . mind when he wrote, one can never read their real

tory without being haunted with the comparisons that are

antly suggested by the resemblances between the fictitious

and the. real persons.

1895.] BROOK FARM TO-DAY. 23

There was still one more object that I was anxious to dis-
cover if time had not obliterated all traces of it from the
place, and that was the vine-covered pine-tree known in the
romance as " Coverdale's Hermitage." I went the shortest way
I could think of in finding out if my little guide knew of its
whereabouts by asking, " Do you know where any wild grapes
grow around here ? " He looked at me with a merry smile as if
there could be any doubt of it. Yes, he knew where there was
one that " grew up the trunk of a tree and twined itself around
the branches high in the air." As he positively assured me
that this was the only place where wild grapes grew in the
woods, " because he and the other boys knew," I concluded
that this must be the veritable grape-vine, and found afterwards
that I had not been mistaken when I compared its situation
with the place that is described as being Hawthorne's favorite
retreat. It is true that the original grape-vine, of unusual size
and luxuriance, which formed a " kind of leafy cave with its
wreathing entanglement of tendrils high up among the branches
of a tall, white pine," must have been much thicker in its foli-
age than this one, which had grown, however, from the same
root. The pine-tree itself gives evidences of a decrepit old age.
It has lost its lofty top, and the trunk, shriveled and crumb-
ling, seems as if it were supported by the twining tendrils of
the vine, rather than to lend support to it.

There are few now left who can recall these scenes from
personal remembrance. Lowell and Whittier were among the
last to go ; Holmes lingered after " as the last leaf on the tree."
Only last September saw the departure of one whose name was
not so widely known as these perhaps, but one who in those
blithesome days oft lent cheer to the household circle at Brook
Farm by the charm of his rare musical talents. This was John
S. Dwight, he who, together with Margaret Fuller, awakened a
desire in the general public here in Boston for a higher order
of music, and aroused in them an appreciation of the composi-
tions of the great masters. He was one of those idealists who
lingered longest with the community, loath to leave a place
hallowed by so many dear associations. " One of the last to
go, one of the saddest of heart, one of the most self-sacrificing
through it all, was John S. Dwight. It may be truly said that
Brook Farm died in music."

Instead of the singing of mere ballads and love-songs when
those light-hearted revellers gathered together for an evening^
entertainment, snatches of Beethoven's symphonies and Mozart's

BROOK FARM TO-DA v.

[April,

grand masses floated out on the night air ; for however mis-
taken these persons might have been in their practical views
of existence, they were at least consistent ; they carried their
idealism even into the unconventional moments of life.

This may recall to the minds of Catholic Summer-School
students our own " informal receptions," and the pleasure they
gave to those who were present. Indeed, there are many
phases in Brook Farm life which might recall those too quickly
fleeting days spent upon the shores of the beautiful Champlain ;
and many things to which might suggest deeper thoughts than
those evoked by the remembrance of that pleasant vacation
time.

In these days of summer-schools and like organizations a

study of the Brook Farm con-
stitution and its methods of
association seems opportune.
Perhaps their greatest secret
of success in making the com-
mon life so agreeable was that
the principles of democracy so
loudly proclaimed from its plat-
form were actually practised in
their daily lives. No "epicur-
ism in companionship " was
cultivated here ; and it is not
to be supposed, of course, that
among the one hundred and
fifty persons who were at one
time numbered in this house-
hold all were of the same ele-
vated tone as those whose
names we know best among
them. Yet, with a heroism
that it would be hard to find

GEORGE RIPLEY.

better illustrated outside of the
Catholic religious community,

personal repugnance went down before interest for the com-
mon good; and no one set a better example of this than their
leader, the noble-hearted Ripley. Re had a spirit worthy of an
imitator of the great Ignatius. In a letter of his, published by
Father Elliott in his Life of Father Hecker, we find expressions
ch reveal this spirit of zeal and heroism : I long for action
shall realize the prophesies, fulfil the Apocalypse bring

i895-] BROOK FARM TO-DAY. 2 $

the new Jerusalem down from heaven to earth, and collect the
faithful into a true and holy brotherhood. To attain this con-
summation so devoutly to be wished, I would eat no flesh, I
would drink no wine while the world lasted. I would become
as devoted an ascetic as yourself, my dear Isaac. But to what
end is all speculation, all dreaming, all questioning, but to ad-
vance humanity, to bring forward the manifestation of the Son
of God ? Oh ! for men who feel this idea burning in their
bones. . . . Would that you would come as one of us to
work in the faith of a divine idea, to toil in loneliness and tears
for the sake of the kingdom which God may build up by our
hands." We wonder why such spirits do not find the truth
at last, for each Catholic heart knows at least one who is less
worthy of the possession of it.

Surely, here among these " gentle reformers " were earnestness,
and generosity, and self-sacrifice enough to convert the world
into a paradise ; and intelligence calm, clear, and deliberating
to direct it all ; and yet their efforts came to naught, and their
story might by this time have been forgotten by many save
that it served as a theme for the writing of a romance.

The " Solution of the Social Problem " that was what they
were striving for, and we but lately were striving for it too in
a far different way ; but who shall say that our arms were not
more potent than theirs ?

2 6 UNCLE SAM'S VIOLIN. [April,

UNCLE SAM'S VIOLIN.

BY PERCY LEE-HUDSON.

HE summer day was drawing to a close. A few
fleecy clouds drifted slowly toward the east,
and mingled with the dim line of a steamer's
smoke lying just above the horizon.

The murmur of the waves upon the shore
beyond the white sand-dunes, and the harsh chirp of a cricket
among the spears of sedge-grass bending in the gentle evening
breeze, were the only sounds that broke the stillness.

The fishing fleet were coming home. Scores of tiny pointed
sails shone white and gray, as the boats rose and fell on the
waves, and passed slowly behind the hills toward the inlet.

" Howdy, Uncle Sam ! " cried a cheery voice.

" Evenin', Jimmy ! " And turning from his work, the old
man let his hoe fall on the black, mouldy clods he had just
dug up.

" 'S yer pap come home ? "

" Hain't seen 'im yit. Mammy tuk Oscar over t' Miss
Pollit's t' git sum o' that thar new med'cin."

" 'S the baby got hoopin'-cough, sure enough ? "'

" Pap says, ef that thar hain't hoopin'-cough, he never
heered none."

" By cracky, don't that beat all ! "

"Say, Jimmy!" as the boy started away, "tell yer pap t'
hang a bunch o' them * ole wives' * on the gate when he comes
by, an' I'll hoe his tater-patch fer 'im next week. Now don't
ye fergit it." And with a cheery " Yassur ! " Jimmy trudged away.

The old man watched the queer little figure, with the big
basket, winding in and out along the crooked path, until it
clambered over the fence of barrel-staves that surrounded the
lot, and the crown of the tattered old straw hat disappeared
behind the dune that marked the wreck of the slaver. Stooping
slowly and picking up his hoe, he leaned it against the fence,
and, taking off his old straw hat, wiped the sweat from his fore-
head and the top of his bald head. For a moment he
looked out over the ocean, and then toward the weather-stained
house nestled under the poplars. A wistful expression came

* The fish " alewife."

1 89 5.] UNCLE SAM'S VIOLIN. 27

over the bronzed and wrinkled face and his lips quivered
slightly. A tear trickled down his cheek. He sighed, and
brushing it away with the back of his hand, resumed his work.

Regularly the hoe rose and fell. The old man's mind
wandered over the sixty-two years he had lived in the little
house. He thought of how he had toiled early and late,
catching the oysters and fish in their seasons. Each spring he
had ploughed the self-same ground, and each successive autumn
had gathered the scanty crop. Summers had come and gone.
His children had grown up and left him, and now he stood
alone, where so .many times before he had stood and watched
his gray-haired wife at her spinning in the cottage door, or
moving about the yard at her work. But the door and yard
were empty. The old sun-bonnet was laid away with her other
things, and she slept in the little grave-yard among the pines.
At the head of her grave he had placed a wooden slab
fashioned out of a bit of wreck, and on it was rudely carved
her name, " Isabel."

As he worked on, he thought of their wedding day so many
years before, and how they went to the little house to live.
One by one the children had come. Some, and among them
little Sammy, the first one, named by the fond mother for him,
had died. The others had grown up, married, and gone away.
They seldom thought of the old man. And then when Isabel's
hair had grow gray, and his own back bent with age, they
had lived their quiet life alone. At evening, when the work
was done and the dishes were cleared away, she used to sit in
her rocking-chair by the cottage door while he fiddled the
tunes she loved. And then the day he found her lying so
white and still by the well, where she had fallen ! Tenderly he
carried her to the best room, and laid her on the bed, Gil
went off to "the main" in the batteau for the doctor, but
before he came she died,

When they had crossed her toil-worn hands on her breast
and drawn the sheet over her placid face, he crept out under
the trees, and laying his head on the old rocking-chair, still sit-
ting where she had last used it, he sobbed himself to sleep.
Mary Lizzie found him there, and waking him gently, led him
to the little room under the eaves, where Sammy died.

The hoe rose and fell more slowly. The old man's eyes
were dim, and again he brushed the tears away.

The lowing of the cows, waiting at the barn to be milked,
told him it was stopping time, so shouldering his hoe he
hobbled across the lot to the barn-yard. Somehow it pained

28 UNCLE SAM'S VIOLIN. [April,

him to walk. When he reached the lane he had to stop to get
his breath, and as he leaned against the trunk of an old apple-
tree it was one Isabel planted the first year she was his
wife he felt a twinge of pain in his heart that well-nigh took
his breath, but it was soon gone and he plodded on.

The. cows knew him, and old Daisy rubbed her nose against
his arm as he let down the bars.

Hanging the hoe on the fence, he stopped again to rest, and
then took the milk-pail from the hook and went to the well.

Was the sweep heavier than it used to be, or had the old
man's arm grown weak ? It took a long time to bring the
bucket from the bottom, and when he tried to pour the water
into the spout his hands shook and the water was spilled.

" Yer well-nigh played out, Sam," he said as he leaned
against the curb.

" Ole Daisy '11 wait, so I '11 rest jest a leetle " ; and he tot-
tered toward the house. Passing through the kitchen, neat but
not as it used to be when she was there, he went into the best
room, and opening the door, drew the rocking-chair where he
could see the sunset. He took the old fiddle from its box
under the bed, and placed it under his chin. Lovingly he
touched the strings, and with a trembling hand drew the bow.

" A leetle more rosum, Sam, fer it squeaks mighty bad," he said.

Again he closed his eyes and drew from the strings one
tremulous note. His hand was unsteady and his fingers stiff.

" Try agin, Sam, fer she's a-listenin'," he murmured, " an'
this time you must play right."

Plaintive and low were the notes at first, but they grew
stronger as he played and beat time with his foot on the
sanded floor.

The sun sank lower and lower, and disappeared behind the
mainland woods. Old Daisy stood in the barn-yard patiently
chewing her cud, and the pigeons on the roof of the barn
cooed to their mates. The shadows deepened, the gentle even-
ing breeze died out, and as the wailing notes of the fiddle
floated out on the still air darkness fell, and with it one by
one the twinkling stars came out.

Yes, she was "a-listenin'."

"Gil, go^ over to the ole man's, an' see ef he ain't sick;
them cows 's been lowin' all this blessed night."

" It's nothin' but ole Daisy lowin' for her calf," responded
Gil, and went on putting new hooks on his lines, while his wife
with the old-fashioned wheel spun yarn for his winter socks.

i895-] UNCLE SAM'S VIOLIN. 29

" Pap," said little Jimmy, as he left off playing with old
Spot, the dog, and leaned against his father's knee, " does cows
git lonesome when their calves is gone?"

" I reckon they do, honey ; they keep enough fuss."

"An' don't Uncle Sam git lonesome, too?" continued
Jimmy.

" Gil, 'tain't no use talkin'. I ain't goin' t' let the- ole man
stay there by hisself no longer. Ef his own children don't
think 'nough o' him t' take care o' him, why I will," broke in
Mary Lizzie, stopping the wheel. "This house is too cramped
fer us anyway, an' I know Uncle Sam '11 be glad ef we '11 move
over there."

" Well, when '11 we move ? " said Gil, with his usual drawl.
41 Sence the fish 's been a-bitin' I ain't had no time to do
nothin' but ketch 'em."

"I tell ye, Gil; I '11 go over in the mornin' an' tell him, an'
we'll move on Sat'day. You stop by an' tell Bill Tom t' come
over with the cart an' steers an' take the things over."

" Mammy, I kin drive the steers, fer Uncle Sam let me drive
'em clean from the new wrack, yist'day," said Jimmy.

" Mammy's boy must go to bed, fer the sand-man's comin'
around," said Mary Lizzie, and pushed the spinning-wheel into
the corner. So when Jimmy had kissed his father good-night,
she led him to his bed in the loft, where he was soon sound
asleep, dreaming of " drivin' the steers on movin' day."

The sunlight streamed in at the open doorway. The
chickens clucked and scratched in the moist earth near the well,
and in the house Mary Lizzie moved to and fro cleaning up
the dishes and putting the room to rights.

Gil had gone out with the fleet before sunrise. The break-
fast was finished, and only little Jimmy's meal sat on the stove-
hearth.

The long summer day had just begun, and there was much
to do. Putting the stone churn on the shelf outside the door,
Mary Lizzie shaded her eyes with her hand, and looked across
the meadow toward the old man's house to see if he was stir-
ring. She could see that the cottage door was open, and
thought she saw him sitting there. The cattle stood in the
yard under the shade of the poplars, and along the shore the
gulls screamed and dived.

Turning from the door, she looked in the bed-room to see if
the baby was still sleeping, and then called from the foot of the
stairs: "Jimmy, are you up?"

30 UNCLE SAM'S VIOLIN. [April,

The patter of bare feet across the floor above told her that
he was, and presently the little shock head appeared in the

opening.

"Mammy, them swallers in the barn has got young uns.
I jest seen 'em an' heerd 'em squeak."

" Have they, honey ? " she answered. " Come on down now,
an' mammy '11 dress you. After you eat your cakes, you can go
over to Uncle Sam's an' help 'im haul the drift-wood home."

Down he came, hugging his clothes in a bundle under his
arm; and after a few moments, with face washed and hair
combed, Jimmy sat down to his breakfast, while his mother sat
by the open door paring potatoes for dinner.

"Mammy," he said suddenly, looking up from his plate,
" didn't Uncle Sam ever have no folkses ? "

Mary Lizzie did not reply, but instead placed the pan of
potatoes on the table, and, picking up her sun-bonnet, turned to
leave the room.

"Jimmy," she said as she paused in the door-way, "go over
to Uncle Sam's an' tell 'im I'll be over by an' by an' git din-
ner fer him. I'm goin' down in the lot to git some roastin'

ears."

Left alone, Jimmy hastily finished his meal, and, putting the
old straw hat on his head, started toward the old man's. His
round, freckled face was all aglow with pleasure, and his black
eyes danced with glee, as he pranced over the white sand, twirl-
ing his little whip about his head and shouting : " Whoa ! back !
gee ! Git up thar, Star ! Hother, Bright ! " as he drove his
imaginary steers.

He stopped at the lot and peered between the pales of the
fence ; but the old man was not there, so he went on.

When he reached the yard he saw the hoe hanging on the
fence, and the milk-pail sitting beside the well half-filled with
water. The cows were chewing their cuds contentedly except
old Daisy, who followed him to the kitchen door. The room was
empty, and so still he paused and called aloud : " Uncle Sam !
Uncle Sam ! " But there was no reply. He pushed open the
door and went into the best room.

" Uncle Sam ! " he called again, when he saw the old man
sitting in the rocking-chair by the open door, " Mammy said
she was a-comin' over to But he stopped, for the stillness
scared him.

For a moment he stood silent, and then, approaching the old
man, said timidly : " Uncle Sam, are you asleep ? "

Getting no reply, he went beside the chair and touched

1895.] UNCLE SAM'S VIOLIN. 3I

the old man's hand. It was so cold he started back in terror.
Half-crying, he called a little louder : " Uncle Sam ! " And
when the old man's figure did not stir nor speak, he turned and
ran from the room as fast as his little legs would carry him.

With tears blinding his eyes he ran through the gate into
the road, and as he passed old Daisy lowed mournfully.

Through the briars he went, never minding the scratches on
his bare legs ; along the sandy path, falling now and then over
some projecting root, but picking himself up and hurrying on,
until he reached the cottage, and running to his mother's side
he buried his head in her lap and cried as if his heart would
break.

Taking the frightened child in her arms, and feeling that
dread in her heart that she had felt ever since she heard Daisy's
mournful low the night before, she tried to soothe him.

" Honey, what's the matter ? " she said, patting the tumbled
head, and brushing away the tears that came into her own eyes,
she knew not why ; " did mammy's boy hurt hisself ? "

" No ! " he sobbed ; " Uncle Sam's went to sleep an'
won't wake up."

Why did the mother's heart sink and her face grow pale ?
Had her good intentions been too long delayed, and was it now
too late? Putting the child down she went out.

" Jimmy," she called from the yard, " you go up the shore
an' meet Bill Tom, an' tell 'im to come to Uncle Sam's jest as
soon as he kin." And then she ran along the narrow path
toward the old man's house.

The gate stood open, just as Jimmy had left it. The kitchen
door was open too, and as she entered an old hen perched upon
the table flew out of the window with a harsh cackle.

She did not dare to call, but passed into the best room, where
the silent figure sat in the doorway. She placed her hand upon
his forehead. Its chill went to her very heart, and with a sob
she sank to her knees beside him.

The old man was not roused by her touch. His head lay
upon the cushion Isabel had made long years before. His eyes
were closed. The wrinkled face wore a peaceful look, and the
gentle wind coming in at the open door blew the few silvery
locks from his forehead. His hands still clasped the old fiddle,
but the bow had fallen and lay beside him on the floor.

He was dead. His life had gone out at evening like the
snuffing of a taper, while the strings of his fiddle vibrated with
the last note of the tune.

SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. [April,

A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND.

BY J. A. ZAHM, C.S.C.

MARVELLOUS SUCCESS OF M. VENTO, A GRADUATE OF THE SOR-
BONNE, WHO HAS BEEN BLIND FROM HIS BIRTH.
I

ROM the earliest ages of Christianity those af-
flicted with the loss of sight have ever been
objects of pity and commiseration, but, strange
as it may appear, little was done for their instruc-
tion and for the amelioration of their condition
of dark and perpetual isolation until the end of the last century.
Then it was that M. Valentin Haiiy, the brother of the
illustrious Abb Haiiy, the father of crystallography, entered
upon his philanthropic career, and proved to the world not
only the possibility, but also the practicability, of the general
education of the blind.

In 1784 he inaugurated in Paris the first institution for the
education of the blind which had ever been successfully at-
tempted. Previous efforts, it is true, had been made by divers
persons to enable the sightless to enjoy some of the advantages
of an education, but these were attended with only very
limited success. As early as 1670 Padre Lana Terzi, an Italian
Jesuit, wrote a treatise on the instruction of the blind, while
almost a century later the Abb Deschamps drew up a plan
for their instruction in reading and writing. But these were
only tentative efforts which were not destined to issue in any
practical or lasting results.

Haiiy was the first one who had the happy idea to print in
characters which could be recognized by the touch. His first
book, Essay on the Education of the Blind, printed in raised or
relief letters, was published in 1786, and was subsequently trans-
lated into English by the blind poet, Dr. Thomas Blacklock.
By Hauy's invention the blind were enabled to read with their
fingers, but as yet no means had been devised which would
enable them to write.

The first one to propose a practical and successful method
of writing for the blind was M. Louis Braille, a blind pupil of
the Institut des feunes Aveugles in Paris. This was in 1834.

1 895.] A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. 33

The merits of Braille's invention were at once recognized/ and'
his system of writing, like Hatty's system of reading/Vas soon
almost universally accepted and employed in the education of
the blind. Other systems both for printing and writing soon
followed those of Haiiy and Braille. Among these are to be
noted that of the Abbe Carton a modification of Braille's
which has had a certain vogue in Belgium. In some of the
systems introduced Roman letters, more or less modified, are
used. In others, stenographic characters are employed, while in
others still a phonetic alphabet is adopted. The systems which
have been in most general use in Great Britain and the United
States are those devised by Fry, Moon, Alston, and Howe, in all
of which the characters deviate more or less widely from
Roman letters. In France Braille's system with the exception
of one institution prevails universally both for printing and
writing. It is also extensively used in Belgium, Switzerland,
and Holland, while for writing it is employed in almost all the
countries of Europe.

Although open to some objections, Braille's system is quite
simple both for the purposes of printing and writing. As is well
known, all the characters, according to this method, are com-
posed of varying combinations of six dots. But useful as is
this system of tangible point writing and printing, and great as
are the blessings which it has conferred on the blind, it still
leaves much to be desired. It is indeed an advance on the
invention of Haiiy. This philanthropist made reading possible
for the blind ;* Braille taught them how to write with facility.
But designed as it was for the blind, his invention was of
little or no service to them when they wished to correspond
with those who are blessed with eyesight. Consisting of purely
arbitrary signs, entirely different from those composing the
ordinary alphabets used by persons endowed with the power of
vision, it afforded them no assistance when they desired to
communicate with those who were ignorant of the system.

For this reason, notwithstanding all that had been achieved
for the behoof and advancement of the blind, it was necessary
to make yet another step forward before these hapless people
could communicate readily with their more fortunate brethren.
It was, in a word, necessary to devise a system which both the
blind and the not-blind could readily understand and use. And
this invention, important and far-reaching as it is, has actually
been effected, although little or nothing has yet been said or
heard of it at least outside of France where for some years
VOL. LXL 3

34 A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. [April,

past it has been undergoing a thorough test in a certain private
institution which is destined sooner or later to become famous.

The inventor of the new system is a lady Mile. Mulot, of
Angers, France. The institution wherein the method has been
put to the test is a school under the direction of the inventress
herself, and is known as L Ecole des Jeunes Aveugles. Wonderful
results have already been achieved by the use of the system,
and it may be safely predicted that it is only a question of
time until it shall supersede all others in both Europe and
America. Discarding all the arbitrary signs and symbols which

had been hitherto employed,
Mile. Mulot makes use of the
ordinary Roman letters, and at
once cuts the Gordian knot,
which had so long puzzled
some of the keenest minds of
the educational world. By
means of a simple frame, con-
trived for the purpose, and a
blunt style, she has made it
possible for the blind to cor-
respond not only with the
blind, but also with the seeing
with equal readiness and satis-
faction. The most astonishing
thing about the invention is its
simplicity, and ttke many other
extraordinary discoveries, it
now seems strange that the
idea did not occur to some
one long before.

The frame, or stylographic
guide, employed is essentially
nothing more than a metal plate
ordinarily, there are two of
them, hinged together for the sake of convenience in which there
is a number of square perforations arranged in parallel lines.
At each corner of these perforations there are small indenta-
tions which enable the writer not only to move his style in and
around the aperture, but also permit him to move it up and
down, thus forming vertical lines at the right and left of the
little squares. By moving the style from one angle to the
other of the perforation, or from little notches, cut on the four

MLLE. MULOT, OF ANGERS.

i895-] A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. 35

sides of the square, it is possible to write with the greatest ease
and exactness the ordinary letters, large and small, of the Roman
alphabet. Thus the letter u is composed of one horizontal and
two vertical lines, the letter x of two diagonals, while the
letter o is made up of two horizontal and two vertical lines,
all slightly curved. For letters like b, d, p, q the writer is
obliged to move his style into the proper indentation at one of
the corners of the square. Thus, d would be made like the
letter o with a prolongation upwards of the vertical line at the
right.

When it is desired to use the instrument in writing to the
blind, a sheet of letter-paper is placed under it, and above a
sheet of blotting-paper, which serves as a cushion. The blind
person writes from right to left of the sheet, while the style, by
reason of the blotting-paper underneath, brings out the letters in
relief on the side opposite that on which they are written. On
looking at the reverse side of the written page the letters are
seen in their natural position, and are read as in ordinary writ-
ing from left to right.

The letters, it is true, are not much raised, but the relief is
quite sufficient to enable the delicate, well-trained ringers of the
blind to distinguish them with the greatest ease and rapidity.
When the matter written is intended for those whose vision has
not been lost, a sheet of carbon-paper is placed between the
cushion, or blotting-paper, and the paper on which the characters
are written. The letters are then not only brought out in relief,
as before, but they are likewise colored, as they are on the
printed page from a type-writing machine.

So simple and so accurate is the method that even little
children are, by its means, enabled to become expert writers in
a comparatively short time. When ordinary care is taken the
letters made are of unvarying uniformity, and may even be of
mechanical exactness. All the lines of the written page must
be parallel, because the perforations in the frame are parallel ;
and the letters must be uniform, because all the little squares
in the plate are of the same unvarying size. For this reason a
page written with the aid of Mile. Mulct's device is not only
perfectly legible to any one capable of reading ordinary writ-
ing, but it also exhibits far more regularity than is possible
when the style or pen is held in the unguided hand.

But remarkable as is the facility with which the blind can
write with this machine, the rapidity with which they can form
letters is even more astonishing. By frequent trials it has been

36 A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. [April,

demonstrated that they can take down ordinary dictations with-
out difficulty, and with fully as great accuracy as those who
have the use of their eyes. Already in a number of instances
the pupils of Mile. Mulct's school have presented themselves
before the government examining boards, and, without having
had any favor shown them, have acquitted themselves quite as
creditably as their more fortunate companions.

These successes, but little known yet outside the circle of a
few friends of Mile. Mulot and her enterprising school, open up
a grand vista to the educator and the humanitarian. Some-
thing that was impossible a few years ago the education of
the blind alongside those who are not blind is now quite pos-
sible, and it will not be long, I trust, before they shall enjoy
all the advantages which the new system is capable of affording
them. Anything that can be taught by dictation can, by the
new method, be learned almost as well and as quickly by the
blind as by the sighted. It is, indeed, difficult fully to realize
as yet all the benefits that would follow from the general
adoption of the new method, and to forecast the great ameli-
oration that would result thereby in the condition of the blind.
One of the most pitiful consequences of their misfortune isola-
tion would at once be removed, and a new world of enjoy-
ment and usefulness would, in consequence, be opened to them.
Not only would the intensity of their affliction immeasurably
be diminished, by thus being able to associate with their more
favored brethren, but the world would also don a brighter
aspect to the friends and relatives of such unfortunates.

But it may be asked, " Why is it that a system which pre-
sents such marked advantages over all other systems has not
been adopted ere this at least in France, where those inter-
ested in such matters should surely be cognizant of its merits? "
It is the old story of petty jealousy and the unwillingness on
the part of the self-complacent officials of state institutions to
admit that anything good can come from private enterprise or
individual initiative. The professors and managers of the
National Institute for the blind in Paris are not unaware of the
superiority of Mile. Mulot's system, but their pride forbids them
to acknowledge that the method followed in the humble little
Catholic school of Angers is superior to that adopted in the
institutions of the nation, or that the happy idea of a woman
has enabled her to accomplish what men had striven for but in
vain, and what they themselves, were they but honest, would
have been glad to achieve, had they but been blessed with such

1895.] A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. 37

good fortune as has been vouchsafed to her whose invention
they affect to ignore and despise. Such ignoble jealousy and
such tenacious conservation of antiquated methods in the face
of others which are demonstrably simpler and better, are at all
times reprehensible, but doubly and trebly so when they affect
the well-being and progress of countless thousands of our sight-
less fellow-creatures. But truth and justice always triumph and
real merit is sure to be recognized sooner or later. One need
not, then, be a seer to predict that it is only a question of time,
and, I trust, but for a very short time, until the beneficent
system of Mile. Mulot shall be known and adopted not only in
France, but in all the institutes for the blind throughout the
civilized world.

What precedes may seem to some an exaggeration of the
merits of the new system, and yet I am far from having
exhausted all that might be said in its favor. A comparison of
a specimen of writing according to Braille's system with one
according to the system devised by Mile. Mulot, together with
an illustration of the results which one is capable of attaining
by following the new method, will prove incontestably that all
that has so far been said in its behalf is based on facts which
speak more eloquently than words.

COMPARISON BETWEEN THE METHOD OF M. BRAILLE AND THAT

OF MLLE. MULOT.

In the following specimens of writing the first is according

. ': Sochez done

o .*

Le pLabteur

BRAILLE'S SYSTEM OF WRITING MLLE. MULOT'S SYSTEM OF WRITING

FOR THE BLIND. FOR THE BLIND.

to Braille's method, and the second according to that intro-
duced by Mile. Mulot. In the first the letters are composed of
a certain number of dots variously arranged and designed solely
for the blind. In the second specimen the characters employed
are ordinary Roman letters and are readily recognized by all

38 A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. [April,

who have the use of their eyes, and are as easily, if not more
easily, distinguished by the blind as are the dots or raised
points of the former. The first specimen is intelligible only to
the sightless who are familiar with Braille's method ; the
second is read alike by the blind and the not-blind, and thus it
affords a means of communication between the two classes of
persons that is not furnished by the older system.

The proposition in both examples given is the same and in
both instances is expressed in French. Translated into English
it reads : " Learn, then, to distinguish a friend from a flatterer."

I have already stated that
some of the pupils of L Ecole
des Jeunes Aveugles at Angers
have had their ability as well
as the system they followed
fully tested by the examiners
of the government schools,
and that they have stood the
test in a most surprising man-
ner.

But a far more remarkable
illustration of the superior
merits of the new system is
supplied by the signal success
of one of the pupils of Mile.
Mulot, M. Vento, a young
man who has been blind from
his birth.

M. Vento was a. studious
pupil and bright, although one
would not say that he was ex-
ceptionally talented. Having
pursued his studies in the school
of Mile. Mulot as far as she was

able to take him, it was his good fortune to fall into the hands
of Rev. Father Goupille, C.S.C., the present learned and sympa-
thetic rector of the College of the Congregation of the Holy
Cross at Neuilly, near Paris. The good father's interest was at
once aroused, and he immediately resolved to attempt what at
first sight would appear almost visionary. He had examined
Mile. Mulct's system and recognized its capabilities; he had
confidence in the intelligence and industry of M. Vento, and
he accordingly determined to take him through a full classical

M. VENTO.

1895-] A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. 39

course and prepare him for passing an examination and for
taking his baccalaureate in the Sorbonne.

No one had ever entered upon such an undertaking before,
or if any one did, there is no record left of final success. Both
teacher and pupil went to work with a will. Father Goupille
took his pupil mon aveugle, as he always affectionately called
him through a thorough course of Greek, Latin, and French
literature. The blind man was introduced to the beauties of
Homer and Virgil, and made familiar with the choicest speci-
mens of poesy and eloquence ; ancient and modern history, logic

FATHER GOUPILLE.

and philosophy, he likewise mastered, and in a way that sur-
prised all who knew him. Science and mathematics he had
studied before he met Father Goupille.

In due course of time M. Vento was ready to present him-
self for his degree. " Will your pupil be able to pass his ex-
amination?" I asked Father Goupille a few days before M.
Vento faced his examiners in the halls of the Sorbonne. " Sans

40 A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. [April,

doute "without doubt he instantly replied. " Not only will he
pass, but he will acquit himself with marked distinction." I
thought at the time that he was a little over-sanguine, but sub-
sequent events proved that I was mistaken.

A few weeks ago, early in the morning, Father Goupille, his
pupil, and Mile. Mulct started for the Sorbonne. As I saw
them setting out for this venerable seat of learning, I was, I
must confess, quite curious to know what would be the result
of their undertaking. On their part, however, there was neither
doubt nor trepidation ; for on the faces of all three one could
read the imprint of hope and confidence the confidence that
comes from a consciousness of knowledge and power.

The examiners of the Sorbonne were astonished beyond
measure to see a blind man before them an applicant for a
degree, but they could not discriminate against him on account
of his misfortune ; neither could they show him any special
favor. This last M. Vento neither expected nor desired. The
same questions, accordingly, were given to him as were put to
other candidates for a similar degree. The learned professors
were amazed at the readiness and accuracy of the blind man's
answers, and the facility and exactness with which he wrote his
versions from Latin and Greek.

The result was, as Father Goupille had predicted it would
be, a glorious success. It was a splendid triumph for pupil and

Ho*

VouL i e* ( me sem (.L
ai t votre,c' es b '
M ' vous U <3 c c d r o e j j^ r c e

vous a i m e .

vous done- com*ie a Lui

I a u 've-~ {--sea,

3 n n M t 5 $ bf n c e

t> n fc o ,

1895-] A NEW SYSTEM OF WRITING FOR THE BLIND. 41

teacher. Above all, it was the most striking and conclusive
proof of the superiority of the system devised by Mile. Mulot
for the education of the blind.

A short note from M. Vento to Father Goupille, written
immediately after the result of the examination was made known,
announces the issue of their joint efforts in words as simple as
they are touching. I give (on preceding page) the note in French,
with the subjoined translation :

REV. FATHER : My distinguished success, as you desired it,
seems to me to be entirely yours ; it is God who accords it to
you because He loves you. To you, then, as to Him, my lively
gratitude. VENTO.

I append two more letters as specimens of what can be
done by students who follow the system I have been describing.
The first is a New Year's greeting from M. Vento to Very

Jeunes Avewales

fet!

e> L'infcBffcb
bit CJe. Nlou<3 cHez

|4c*d -Mubob fit a

pcr-

>JeLLL

Le.9

d' /looers c)e<*tf odepk tous
Lt-s [cues ciwo5 Leur

rv tr du &

r ~ i * i_ '

be poo J^eu beo
C.opqreubft 'ion de Sbc, LroX;
\ls eovo'icqb chwcon de
sea Jrteobres en pwrticuLier
Leurs <*efl

Rev. Father Francis, C.S.C., superior-general of the Congrega-
tion of the Holy Cross who has always been a special friend
of LEcole des Jeunes Aveugles at Angers and the other is a
similar letter from one of the children of Mile. Mulot's interesl
ing institute. Not even the most exacting could demand

42 A NEW SYSTEM OF WAITING FOR THE BLIND. [April,

stronger evidence of the superiority of the new system. Neither
letter was written for public inspection, much less for the press,
and yet they will bear the most searching criticism that the op-
ponents of Mile. Mulot are capable of making.

From the foregoing it will be seen that a new era has dawned
for those who have so long lived in darkness and isolation.
Mile. Mulct's invention is destined, so soon as it is properly
known and appreciated, to revolutionize completely the methods
at present followed in the instruction of the blind. She has
accomplished a work that will secure for her the gratitude of
countless thousands, and will place her among such noble bene-
factors of humanity as Haiiy, Braille, and the Abbs de L'Epee
and Sicard all, like herself, devoted children of Holy Church
who have contributed so much towards the amelioration of the
condition of the blind, the deaf, and the dumb, and who have
made it possible for these unfortunates to enjoy many of those
pleasures and blessings of life which were before entirely closed
to them.

When one remembers what a large percentage of our race is
afflicted with blindness one in one thousand in temperate cli-
mates and a still larger proportion in other latitudes one will
realize more fully the greatness of the benefits that must accrue
from the general introduction of Mile. Mulct's method of writing.
It puts within the reach of all who are deprived of sight a
means of communication with their fellow-men, and of acquiring
an education in the higher branches of knowledge that a short
time ago would have been deemed impossible.

In times past, indeed, great things were achieved by the
sightless. Huber, the celebrated naturalist, was blind from his
youth. Theresa von Paradis, the noted pianist and composer,
was blind from her childhood. Nicholas Sanderson, the succes-
sor of Newton in the chair of mathematics in the University of
Cambridge, was blind from his infancy. Nicaise, of Mechlin,
and Peter Pontanus, deprived of vision when they were but
three years of age, won distinction in law and divinity, philoso-
phy and literature. Margaret of Ravenna and Frances Brown
lost their sight when but a few months old, but notwithstanding
this they were able to attain to eminence in theology and
morals, poetry and fiction. John Metcalf became blind at the
age of six and John Gough at the age of three, and yet the
former was afterwards distinguished as a road surveyor and con-
tractor, while the latter became famous as a botanist and a
natural philosopher. The Bohemian patriot, Zisca, was celebrated

1 895-] A NEW SYSTEM OF WAITING FOJ? THE BLIND. 43

as a military genius, and, nevertheless, it is said of him that
" he was more dreaded by his enemies after he became blind
than before."

But all the persons just named achieved success by the sheer
force of genius. Mile. Mulot has, by her invention, put it in
the power of any one, possessing ordinary industry and perse-
verance, to accomplish what only those dowered with extraordi-
nary talents and energy would otherwise attempt. She has given
a spur to the ambition of the sightless, ennobled their aspirations,
and fortifred their courage. She has shown them that labor and
determination may, at least in a measure, replace genius in the
intellectual world, and that their privation, great as it may
seem, is not without numerous and important compensating
advantages. All honor, therefore, to her and to the generous
and sympathetic friends who have so nobly seconded her efforts
in her work of mercy and chanty. May she live to see the
system, which she has labored so assiduously to perfect, adopted
throughout the world, and may she be permitted also to enjoy
at least the recompense of appreciation which is so frequently,
alas ! withheld from the greatest of the world's benefactors !

Notre Dame University.

DE PROFUNDIS IN TENEBRIS.

BY V. D. ROSSMAN.

N dark and torturous doubt my way I grope :
Could I but see the light, the guiding light !

God, dear God ! my blinded eyes pray ope,
And put an end unto this awful night !

Lo ! here upon my knees, prone in the dust,

1 bow my wretched head and pray to Thee,
That I may feel that trust, that saving trust,
Which fills the good man's soul with ecstasy.
That settles on his heart eternal peace,

And chases from his mind all thoughts of woe.
I feel that soon my wretchedness must cease ;
That soon the God of Comfort I shall know:
I must think this, I must feel so ! O send
The light, kind Heav'n the darkness rend !

44 MILER THE APOSTATE. [April,

MILER THE APOSTATE.

BY P. G. SMYTH.

EARLY everybody who has visited the celebrated
penitential resort known as " St. Patrick's Purga-
tory," on the little island of Lough Derg, Done-
gal, knows the tract of mingled arable and heather,
meadow and bog, that stretches southward to
where the lower Lough Erne expands its bright shield, bedecked
with emerald bosses.

This tract formed the termon, or church lands, of Saint Daveoc
of Lough Derg. Its revenues went to support the ascetic com-
munity on the little penitential island, which in olden days was
a famous resort of pilgrims from near and far, including many
noble knights from England, France, and Spain. The Magrath
family, resident in the neighborhood, were the erenachs, that is
hereditary guardians or wardens, of this bit of church property,
which was consequently known as Termon Magrath.

Early in the sixteenth century one of these good Magraths
of Termon Magrath the place lies on the romantic border of
Tirconnell and Fermanagh had born unto him a son. The
infant at its christening had its head tonsured, according to the
pious old Irish custom in dedicating children to saints, and was
named Maolmuirre, meaning " tonsured servant of Mary," usually
shortened to Miler.

MILER THE MONK.

A more extraordinary and grotesque character than this
Miler Magrath is not to be found in all the checkered pages of
Irish history. Yet his personality is but little known to the
general student ; the peculiar niche he occupies is wrapped in
rather sinister gloom.

The three grim witches, ambition, avarice, and cunning, gath-
ered round his cradle on the bank of Lough Erne, and after-
wards followed him persistently through life. Yet, with a less
sombre doom than Macbeth's under like conditions, he seems to
have eventually wriggled from beneath their unholy spell and
cheated them and the devil to boot in the end.

His parents intended young Miler for the church. His own

1895-] MILER THE APOSTATE. 45

ideas lay in that direction also, but his motives in entering
religion have been severely interpreted. In pursuit of his
studies he went to the Continent. At an early age he entered
the order of St. Francis, taking the usual solemn vows of obe-
dience, chastity, and poverty. There was no nobler class of
men than the Irish Franciscans of that time, heroic, talented,
and devoted. Unfortunately, Brother Miler proved an exception
to the order. Scarcely had he donned the rough habit and
knotted cord ere he entered with avidity upon the long struggle
for power, place, and pelf that made him the most noted man
of his time in this respect.

Clever and obsequious, he fawned his way into the good
graces of influential personages in Spain and Holland. At
length, in deference to most flattering recommendations, Pope
Pius V. appointed him Bishop of St. Patrick's ancient see of
Down, in Ireland, October 12,. 1565.

So, at the age of forty-three, Bishop Miler Magrath set out
to take possession of his diocese, carrying, it is said, the aposto-
lic letters pendant in a pyx or burse upon his breast.

MILER THE BISHOP.

Arriving in Ireland, the new bishop found sundry serious
obstacles in his way. More than twenty years previously King
Henry VIII. had suppressed the monasteries. The bells no
longer rang the Angelus from the lofty campaniles ; the poor no
longer gathered for relief at the convent wickets. And now
Queen Elizabeth was following up the work inaugurated by her
sire of the many wives ; her priest-catchers were hard on the
scent of bishop and friar. Queen's bishops, chiefly apostate friars
consecrated by other apostate friars, held possession of various
sees. Down was as yet unprovided with one of these, but in
the face of a strong English Protestant colony Miler dared not
venture to take possession ; his predecessor, Bishop Eugene
Magennis, had held the temporalities of the see only by first
swearing that Henry VIII., and not the Pope, was the true
head of the church ; and secondly, by becoming Protestant alto-
gether an example in which he had been followed by one other
member of the native Irish hierarchy.

Under these conditions Bishop Magrath thought well to take
refuge in the " Irish country," where English law and English
reformers dared not penetrate. In Tyrone, amid warlike hosts
of gallowglasses in conical helmets and long coats of chain-mail,
kernes in their voluminous yellow shirts, and Scots in their

46 MlLER THE APOS7ATE. [April,

plaids, with the haughty " Red Hand " of O'Neill waving defi-
antly in the breeze, he received rough-and-ready welcome from
the terrible Shane the Proud.

MILER THE FORGER.

In Ulster at this time was the venerable Richard Creagh,
Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of Ireland. Although prac-
tically under the protection of Shane the Proud, this did not
deter Archbishop Creagh from rebuking the fiery Ulster chieftain
for the excesses committed in his wars. In August, 1566, Miler
Magrath was present at an interview between the archbishop
and Shane at Inish-Darell, near Cloondarell, in the county Ar-
magh. That very year Shane's followers had hanged a priest
during their raid against O'Donnell. No doubt the primate's
reproof was grave and incisive ; probably the prince's retort was
characteristically hot and haughty. Anyhow, the ambitious Miler
craftily determined to turn their dispute to his own advantage.
He formed a vile plot. Evidently he aimed at the deposition
of the archbishop and his own appointment in his stead. He
forged some letters, " purporting to be written by the primate,"
says he who tells the story, " containing horrible things and evil
counsels most foreign to his nature." These letters Miler for-
warded to Rome, basing on them a series of false and malicious
charges against the primate. It was an attempt as clumsy as
mean. The Vatican experts soon discovered that the hand
that wrote the charges was the same that had written the
letters.

Prompt on the detection of his crime Miler fled, a disap-
pointed place-hunter and baffled forger, to England.

MILER'S RECANTATION.

The following summer was productive of sensational events
in Ireland. Primate Creagh, with the government bandogs hot
on his footsteps, made his way into Connaught, where he was
treacherously seized and delivered to the queen's officers by
O'Shaughnessy of Galway, a contemptible native chieftain.
O'Shaughnessy received a special letter of thanks from Eliza-
beth for his miserable act, and the poor primate was conveyed
for imprisonment to London Tower, to pine there in chains for
eighteen long years.

On May 31, 1567, exactly a month after the primate's arrest,
Bishop Miler Magrath, in the church of Drogheda, under the
protection of English spears and muskets, read his recantation

1 895-] MILER THE APOSTATE. 47

of faith, renounced the " errors of Popery," and declared him-
self a loyal Protestant.

A few weeks later the haughty head of Shane the Proud,
treacherously slain by the Scots of Antrim, was drenched in
preserving tar and spiked on the battlements of Dublin Castle.
Tyrone, bereft of its native prince, fell for the time being under
English influences.

THE QUEEN'S FAVOR.

Miler's apostasy was not immediately followed by any special
token of royal recognition ; Elizabeth did not confirm his appoint-
ment by the pope to the see of Down ; instead she assigned
that see to her own chaplain, John Merriman. The Verted
prelate experienced nearly three years of suspense and chagrin.
Then his preliminary reward reached him in the shape of a wel-
come letter from the queen dated May 18, 1570, appointing him
bishop of his native diocese of Clogher, in possession of which
he was confirmed by royal grant of September 16 following.

Much more feudal than religious in character was his installa-
tion in the ancient cathedral of St. Maccartin, built where for-
merly stood the celebrated clock oir, or gold-adorned stone, which
in pagan times was said to utter oracles and which gave name
to the northern diocese. A military escort protected him, an
unnecessary precaution ; the native Irish, though indignant at
the action of the apostates among their clergy, nevertheless
respected their ordained persons. Although many of the Catho-
lic clergy were arrested and put to death, often with cruel tor-
ture, by the Reformers, in no known instance did the Irish Catho-
lics retaliate in kind. Besides, in Clogher the people were partly
inured to episcopal infidelity ; Miler's predecessor in the see,
namely Hugh O'Kervallan or O'Carroll, Shane O'Neill's bishop,
had sworn that Henry VIII. was the true head of the church.
So, surrounded by bristling spears, Miler Magrath re-entered the
province from which a few years previously he had fled a dis-
graced and malicious forger.

IS MADE ARCHBISHOP.

Not quite six months had he enjoyed the temporalities of
Clogher when he received an additional and far more substan-
tial mark of the royal bounty. This was his appointment in
February, -157-1, as archbishop of the united sees of Cashel and
Emly, in Munster. Southward accordingly he went and took
possession of the beautiful pile of ecclesiastical buildings on the

48 MILER THE APOSTATE. [April,

lofty, historic rock where of old the kings of Munster had col-
lected their tributes. It was an uneasy time in the south. From
the windows of the high cathedral he could see bodies of troops
in motion, plumed knights careering over the plain, and the
smoke of burnings in the distance. The English were trying to
suppress the revolted Geraldines. Red war was afoot, and it
might at any time roll up to the venerable Rock of Cashel.
This, in fact, had happened a few years before, when, on the
repulse of the English, the townsmen of Cashel admitted the
pope's archbishop a fearless and aggressive Mayo man, by
name Maurice MacGibbon, surnamed Reagh, or the Strong who
compelled the queen's archbishop, one James M'Caghwell, to
walk in procession to the cathedral and to assist in the choir
during the celebration of Mass. Some English writers state,
but with little appearance of truth, that on that occasion the
pope's archbishop attacked and seriously wounded the queen's
archbishop. But now the energetic Maurice the Strong was
absent in Spain, urgently seeking military aid for the Catholic
cause in Ireland he died at Oporto in 1578 and the Geraldines
were eventually compelled to retire into the fastnesses of the
Glen of Aherlow ; so that Archbishop Miler felt comparatively
secure so secure, indeed, that he felt called upon to thoroughly
fill the role of reformed prelate by taking unto himself a wife.

MILER AND HIS BETTER-HALF.

The partner he selected was a girl of the O'Mearas Christian
name Annie. The event evoked a burst of popular indignation
and ridicule, some of which was embodied in a rough satire,
"The Apostasy of Miler Magrath," written about the year 1577
by a Franciscan friar named Owen O'Duffy. He taunts
Magrath with being false to his name, Miler or Maolmuirre,
the tonsured servant of Mary :

" He is not the Miler of Mary, but the Miler of Annie.
. . Miler without Mary, Mary without Miler, is your name
for ever. Miler has forsaken the Virgin for Annie, and bar-
tered his faith for flesh on Fridays. I congratulate the Virgin
that Miler has forsaken her, the Queen of Heaven of the face
benign. O Annie ! whose cousin I should f>e sorry to be, I
cannot congratulate you on your swarthy Miler."

The friar advocates a series of judicious thumps as a means

bringing sundry backsliders, Miler included, to a sense of
their transgressions. The following, by the late John O'Daly, is
a translation of some of the verses :

1895-] MILER THE APOSTATE. 49

" To William O'Casey, the potent
By the aid of the Saxon not by God's
Give him a stunning clencher on the ear
In the halls, of the castle of Dublin.

" The blessing of the hosts I will ever pray
On the immaculate daughter of Anna, the spotless,
If she gives a box or two to Conor O'Brennan,
The swarthy, the black and hideous monster.

" To the friar whose religion is false,
To Miler Magrath the apostate,
Until he submit to God's word, the boor,
Give him a box on each big jaw."

Probably Miler laughed in indifference at these quaint attacks.
He had a certain stock of grim sarcasm himself. One Friday,
sitting at dinner with his wife, he noticed she did not eat and
inquired if she were ill.

" No," she replied ; " but I don't think it is right to eat
meat on Friday."

" You may as well eat it," he assured her, with a grin on his
swarthy face as he cut into his succulent steak ; " abstaining
will do you no good now ; you're sure to go to hell anyhow
for having married me."

He entered upon a very free and festive existence, pursuing
various pleasures with a zest strange in one who had spent so
many ascetic years in the garb of a Franciscan. Hunting was
a favorite pastime of his ; in Clogher he kept a pack of hounds,
which he billeted, with their huntsmen, upon that diocese. " A
man of uncertain faith and credit and of depraved life," is the
way Camden describes him.

Annie O'Meara did not long survive her marriage, and Miler
married again.

He was by no means a rampant persecutor of the ancient
faith. Many a time a hint dropped to his wife, who sympa-
thized with the hunted bishops and soggarths, enabled those
ecclesiastics to escape from danger.

His old mother, from the County Fermanagh, felt her faith
waver as her end approached. She therefore asked her saga-
cious son the archbishop, as being acquainted with both reli-
gions, which one he would advise her to die in.

" Mother, confess your sins and get yourself anointed," was
the answer.

VOL. LXI. 4

5o MILER THE APOSTATE. [April,

Tradition relates that, riding out one day in the direction of
Golden, he saw a poor man dying by the roadside. Dismount-
ing he inquired if the man was a Catholic or a Protestant ;
on being told that he was a Catholic he gave him absolution,
then brought forth his yet undiscarded oil-stocks and gave
him extreme unction. The place of the occurrence is still
pointed out, and is called Knock-an-ulla, the hill of the oil.

A RAVENOUS GRABBER.

All this goes to show that the man was still a Catholic in
principle, sometimes even in practice ; he was a professed
Protestant for the purpose of glutting his insatiable avarice, and
this he did by an awful devouring of church-lands. Possibly
he philosophically argued with himself that the fat revenues
accruing from religious benefices might be as well enjoyed by
an unscrupulous Irishman as by some greedy English robber.
Keen as a vulture in quest of prey, he was continually striving
after vacant dioceses and livings. He persistently urged his
merits and claims, and this with signal success. In 1582 he
obtained from the queen a commendatory grant of the fine
sees of Waterford and Lismore. Yet was he discontent. To
Burleigh, lord high treasurer of England, he expressed his
chagrin at not getting the deanery of St. Patrick's Cathedral,
Dublin, and the bishopric of Limerick, which he preferred to
Waterford : " I may say with the prophet," he wrote, " thy
rebuke hath broken my heart ; I am full of heaviness. I look
for some one to have pity on me, but there is no man, neither
have I any to comfort me."

By this time, through the barbarous war levied by Lord
Deputy Gray against the Irish, the fair province of Munster
presented a frightful and mournful spectacle. From Cashel to
the west of Kerry could scarcely be heard the lowing of a cow
or the voice of a ploughman. Hundreds of villages lay in
blackened ruins ; thousands of corpses of men, women, and
children lay unburied ; others swung from the boughs of trees.
Feeble, emaciated men, wasted almost to skeletons by English-
created famine, hid in the woods and crept forth now and
then on their hands and knees in eager quest of a patch of
sorrel or watercress, for there was nothing else eatable to be
had.

' They did eat the dead carrion, happy where they could
find them ; yea and one another soon after, insomuch as the
very carcases they spared not to scrape out of their graves." So

I895-] MILER THE APOSTATE. 5 ,

wrote the celebrated Elizabethan poet and enterprising plun-
derer, Edmund Spenser, some time secretary to the fanatical
butcher Lord Gray, who had effected the bloody desolation of
Munster and whose treacherous cruelty was a by-word through-
out Europe. Spenser received a " grant " of lands robbed from
the native Irish. So also did his colleague, the polished pirate,
Walter Raleigh, who fleshed his maiden sword on disarmed men
in that dark campaign.

It was to Raleigh that Archbishop Miler Magrath bare-
facedly disposed of the fine castle and manor of Lismore, the
bishop's residence, at an annual rent of 13 6s. %d. When
Raleigh was beheaded this property fell into the voracious maw
of the greatest land-grabber of his time, Boyle, Earl of Cork.
Of course Miler had no right to alienate it ; the transfer was
practically a piece of church-robbery ; but, if the transaction
were attended with impunity, he would very probably have done
the same with grand old Cashel itself, rock, buildings, and all.

MILER'S COADJUTOR.

Still apprehensive of danger from his fellow-countrymen,
Miler now habitually wore a suit of armor and went about
accompanied by an armed body-guard. A fresh outbreak of
Geraldine warfare made his heart beat with fear under his steel
corselet. He fled for safety to England. To minister to the
wants of his flock, such as it was, in Cashel, Miler left a coad-
jutor named William Knight. The coadjutor, a pleasure-loving
soul, was grievously addicted to the bottle. He drank so freely
and often that, says Ware, he " excited the scorn and derision
of the people." Then he too fled to England.

Coadjutor Knight was not alone in his genial weakness
amongst his brethren of the new church in Ireland. Poet
Edmund Spenser, himself a Protestant, describes the characteris-
tics of the Reformed pastors in general, as he found them.
" Whatever disorders you see in the Established Church in
England," says he, " you may find here, and many more,
namely, gross simony, greedy covetousness, fleshly incontinence,
careless sloth, and generally all disordered life in the common
clergyman."

TORTURE AND DEATH OF ARCHBISHOP O'HURLEY.
About this time a new Roman Catholic Archbishop of Cashel,
the successor of Maurice the Strong, arrived in Ireland. This
was the learned and eloquent Dermod O'Hurley. The queen's

52 MlLER THE APOSTATE. [April,

emissaries were soon eager on his trail, and they eventually
seized him at Carrick-on-Suir, not many miles from the historic
rock on which he hoped to some day celebrate Mass. They
carried him to Dublin for trial before Adam Loftus, the Pro-
testant archbishop, who was also lord-justice of Ireland. The
latter did his utmost, in the way of urging O'Hurley to renounce
the authority of the pope and to acknowledge the queen as the
head of the church, to save the life of his venerable prisoner;
but the religious constancy of the Catholic Archbishop of Cashel
was not to be shaken. Consequently he was doomed to a fear-
ful lingering death by torture.

He was bound to a stake, his feet and thighs smeared with
butter, salt, oil, sulphur, pitch, and ardent spirits, then set fire
to. Whenever he fainted in his agony the flames that enwrapped
his limbs were extinguished and restoratives were administered ;
when these had taken effect the match was again applied. Daily
for five days these horrible torments were inflicted upon Arch-
bishop O'Hurley, " till his muscles and arteries were melted in
the flame and the teguments of his bones were consumed," says
one account of this ghastly cruelty. On the fifth day the pre-
late's poor, half-incinerated frame was drawn forth at dawn to
Stephen's Green, where he was finally tortured and then stran-
gled to death.

This was one Elizabethan method of dealing with prelates
and friars in the year of the Lord 1583.

Meantime Miler was enjoying himself in London, where at
the same time his coadjutor, Knight, was probably reeling through
the taverns of Cheapside.

ARCHBISHOP CREAGH POISONED.

In London Miler bobs up now and then, especially in the
cells of Irish captives about being done to death. His role was
that of exhorter and "converter." In this way he had the re-
pulsive audacity to visit the aged primate of Ireland, Richard
Creagh, whose character he had tried to blacken, as previously
narrated, by means of forged letters to the court of Rome, and
who was now drawing out his weary days in a cell in London
Tower.

On the part of the queen and council of England, Miler
proffered the imprisoned primate pardon, release, wealth, and
honor if he would renounce the jurisdiction of the pope and
acknowledge the spiritual supremacy of Elizabeth ; easy conditions
enough, no doubt thought Miler, judging the primate by his

1895-] MILER THE APOSTATE. 53

own elastic conscience. Probably he pitied the hoary captive ;
probably he regarded him as a senile fool for choosing to re-
main in a gloomy cell when a word would give him freedom
and sunlight.

But the primate answered his old enemy the ex-forger in
dignified refusal and reproof, and concluded, " Leave my pre-
sence."

Soon afterwards it was decided to get rid of this sturdy and
^ devoted ecclesiastic, whom eighteen years' close incarceration
* had utterly failed to subdue. Accordingly Jailer Cully admin-
istered to him poison in some cheese, and Primate Creagh
breathed forth his gallant soul on October 14, 1585.

MILER'S NOTE OF WARNING.

Meanwhile the flames of religious persecution raged in Ire-
land. To give him his bare due, Miler felt sorry and concerned
for his old colleagues of the Catholic faith. His timely advice and
warning kept many of them out of the clutches of the queen's
torturers and executioners. Probably at times a mental vision
of the agonized face and charred limbs of poor Archbishop
O'Hurley rose appealingly before him and awakened pangs of
remorseful sympathy. He knew that his wife had priests and
even bishops in hiding in his house at Cashel, and while pro-
fessing to be zealous as to the arrest and punishment of all such
persons, he wrote to her in their behalf inculcating extreme
wariness. Here is a 'specimen letter:

" LOVING WIFE : I have already resolved you in my mind
.touching my cousin, Darby Creagh (Catholic Bishop of Cork and
Cloyne) ; and I desire you now to cause his friends to send
him out of the whole country, if they may ; or if not, to send
my orders, for that there is such search to be made for him
that, unless he be wise, he shall be taken ; and to send from
my house all the priests that you are wont to have. Use well
my gossip Malachias, for that I did as much as I was able to
bring him out of his trouble here. Accomplish the contents of
my other letters, and burn this presently, and all the letters
that you know yourself. Fail not of this, as you love me and
yourself. From Greenwich, this 26th of June, 1592.

" Your loving husband, MlLERlUS AR. CASHEL."

This admonitory document, which is preserved in the Eng-

54 MILER THE APOSTATE. [April,

lish state papers, fell into the hands of the lord-deputy of Ire-
land, who consequently exposed to Burleigh the "great shams
of service " that were being made by Miler Magrath. But the
latter managed to explain things so as to weather the storm.

A RENEGADE GERALDINE.

In 1600 we find Miler promoting a wily but vain plot for
the betrayal and capture of " the Sugane Earl," the Geraldine
leader. In the same year we find him riding in his coat of
mail, in the midst of his body-guard, into Kilmallock, introducing
to the Geraldine clansmen the young son of their late unhappy
earl. Doors, windows, roofs, and roadways were crowded with
applauding adherents of the chivalrous house of Fitzgerald ;
but lo ! as soon as it was discovered that the heir of the Des-
monds had been brought up according to English ideas and
in the English faith the cheers turned into groans and revil-
ings. Miler's coup was miserably fruitless, and the Verted young
Geraldine, thus vehemently repudiated by his people, was re-
called to England, where he died shortly afterwards. Munster
remained unwon to the English crown.

Next year, however, when the disastrous battle of Kinsale
wrecked the hopes of the Irish chieftains, the whole island was
brought under British dominion. Now at length, after a long
interval, Miler could penetrate into Ulster, lay claim to the
revenues of his diocese of Clogher, and particularly to the own-
ership of his ancestral territory of Termon Magrath. This lat-
ter he set about by the erection of a strong, spacious, and
stately castle, finer than any Magrath of Fermanagh had ever
lived in before. The ruins of Termon Magrath castle still
stand on the verdant northern shore of Lough Erne, a remark-
able object in the landscape and a massive monument to the
memory of the builder.

MADE BISHOP OF KILLALA AND ACHONRY.

Having held the sees of Waterford and Lismore for twenty-
five years, Miler relinquished them, or what was left of them
after his numerous sales and cuttings, in 1607, in consideration
of getting instead the united sees of Killala and Achonry, in
Connaught, just rendered vacant by the death of Bishop Owen
O'Connor, brother of O'Connor Sligo, and, like Miler, an apos-
tate Franciscan.

Together with these dioceses, the insatiate Miler secured the

1895.] MILER THE APOSTATE. 55

special revenues of the vicarage of Kilmacallan ; the rectory of
Infra Duos Pontes, in Elphin ; the rectories of Castle Conor
and Skreen in Killala, and the prebend of Dougherne, with the
rectory of Kilorhin in the diocese of Achonry.

William Flanagan, who was Miler's dean, had twenty-five
livings in Killala and Achonry, in a few of which he served
only a couple of times in the year, in some not at all, while in
others he never set foot. Miler's archdeacon was one Dermot
Ultagh (or the Ulsterman, modernized to McNulty), who could
not read either English, Irish, or Latin, as was found on a visi-
tation by royal commissioners. Archdeacon Ultagh held the
lands of Kilturra and at least two other livings. Both dean
and archdeacon were probably imported by Miler from Fer-
managh and chosen from among his connections.

Our prelate saw that his children were pretty " well fixed."
His wife had reared them Catholics, but that did not matter
much if they inherited their sire's adaptability. His son
Andrew had eleven or twelve livings in Achonry diocese,
including Attymass, Strade, Killasser, KilcondufT, Bohola,
Kilbeagh, and Kilcoleman, as well as sundry livings in other
places. Another son, James, a layman, got from his father the
four quarters of Skreen, half quarter of Dromard, and other
church-lands, which he held till August 8, 1634, when Bishop
Hamilton got a decree of the Court of Exchequer for their
recovery.

The royal commissioners of 1615 sought to make Miler give
some account of his revenues from the various dioceses and
livings, and of his sales and transfers of church property, but
their quest was mostly in vain. Stray stories of the arch-
bishop's methods and exactions cropped up here and there.
Henry Piers, or Perse, told the commissioners in reference to
the rectories of Skreen and Castle Conor, that " those two
parsonages were found by office to be impropriate, and he
purchased them ; but yet, soon after the preferment of this
archbishop (Magrath) to Killala and Achonry, he was forced to
give unto the archbishop, to stop his mouth, one hundred
pounds " to which, by the way, Miler was at least entitled
according to law, for these were church-lands anyhow.

MILER CALLS IN THE PRIEST.

But new something more serious than the acquirement and
holding of church-livings began to exercise the mind of Arch-

56 MILER THE APOSTATE. [April,

bishop Magrath. He was getting old ; his suit of armor had
grown too heavy for his worn frame ; he could no longer ride
merrily to the hounds and enjoy the chase of the deer and roe.
He was old and feeble, and he fancied the end was drawing
near. Reminiscences of his early life in the cloisters haunted
him ; thoughts of the other world filled him with uneasiness ;
he shrunk in terror from the doom of the apostate ; he secretly
sent for a Catholic priest !

Father Maurice Ultan, provincial of the Irish Franciscans,
was the clergyman who listened in amazement to Miler's peti-
tion to be readmitted to the Catholic Church. The good
father immediately wrote for advice to the papal nuncio at
Brussels, and in due course there arrived a satisfactory letter,
dated January 29, 1612, in which the nuncio said:

" I have read with great attention all those particulars
which you have signified to me regarding the individual, the
lord Miler Magrath. I commend exceedingly that thought
which he has manifested, of returning to the bosom of the
church. It will be with you to exhort him seriously not to
abandon the resolution which he has formed, but rather employ
all his strength and energy in bringing it to an issue, for which
purpose he ought to depart from Ireland as quickly as pos-
sible."

WRITES HIS OWN EPITAPH AND DIES.

Reluctant to face the crucial test of surrendering his vast
possessions and quitting the country, it appears that Miler
deferred his work of return and reparation until the infirmity of
old age laid him on his bed, a grizzled and wrinkled centenar-
ian. Marvellously clear of intellect to the last, in the first year
of his confinement he wrote his own singular epitaph, which
tells between its lines the tale of his parting repentance. Ignor-
ing the episcopal titles conferred upon him by the queen, he
makes special mention of his title to Down, for which he was
indebted to the pope ; he refers to the services rendered by
him to the English government, plays on the conflicting nature
of his appointments by pope and queen, and raises the barrier
of Scriptural quotation against uncharitable judgment of his life
and acts.

Here is the epitaph, written by that strange old man as he
lay aged and feeble on his last couch in the silence of his
house in Cashel :

i8o5-] MILER THE APOSTATE.

MILERI MAGRATH, ARCHIEPISCOPI CASSILIENSIS, AD VIATOREM

CARMEN.

Venerat in Dunum primo sanctissimus olim

Patricius, nostri gloria magna soli.
Huic ego succedens, utinam tarn sanctus ut ille

Sic Duni primo tempore praesul eram.
Anglia, lustra decem sed post tua sceptra colebam,

Principibus placui Marte tonante tuis.
Hie ubi sum positus non sum, sum ubi non sum

Sum nee in ambobus, sum sed in utroque loco 1621.
Dominus est qui me judicat (I. Cor. iv.) ;
Qui stat caveat ne cadat.

Which is translated as follows by Ware :

Patrick, the glory of our isle and gown,

First sat as bishop in the see of Down.

I wish that I, succeeding him in place

As bishop, had an equal share of grace.

I served thee, England, fifty years in jars,

And pleased thy princes in the midst of wars.

Here where I'm placed I'm not ; and thus the case is

I'm not in both, yet am in both the places.

He that judgeth me is the Lord (I. Cor. iv.) ;

Let him who stands take heed lest he fall.

In December, 1622, Miler passed away at the age of one
hundred years. A Franciscan friar laid out his remains in
the habit of his own order, after which it is said they were
privately interred with Catholic rites.

A fine monument to Archbishop Magrath's memory may
still be seen, and in good preservation too, in the ancient
cathedral of Cashel ; but it is doubtful if his bones repose
beneath. The monument shows the recumbent figure of the
archbishop in high relief, a mitre on. his head, his right hand
on his breast, and his left grasping a pastoral staff. Over the
head is a coat of arms, at the feet an image of the Crucifixion,
and above a slab bearing the fore-given epitaph.

This and the old castle on the shore of Lough Erne form
fairly durable monuments of one of the most singular characters
to be found in the history of any country.

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60 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. [April,

GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY.

BY REV. CLARENCE A. WALWORTH.
CHAPTER XII.

The Break-up echoed in a Low-church Diocese. Bishop Mcllvaine. Seminary
and Kenyon College at Gambier.A High-church Parish with a Low-church
Pastor, Tractarianism crops out. A Bomb-shell at Commencement. The
Richards Family of Converts.

N the last- chapter I have attempted, according to
my feeble means, to show how the break-up of
Tractarianism at the Chelsea General Seminary
was echoed in the rest of the United States and
particularly in the diocese of Maryland. There
the bishop of the diocese was a High-churchman, inclined to
favor Tractarianism, and was, intellectually speaking, the leading
mind among that class of bishops. If his courage had been
equal to his inclinations, he would have been beyond all ques-
tion the " great gun " of his class. The Low-church party had
also its " great gun," equally well loaded and more apt to go
off. This was Charles Pettit Mcllvaine, second Bishop of Ohio,
who succeeded to his diocese in 1832.

The peculiarity of his evangelical views may be accounted
for by the fact that he was educated at Princeton, and was a
professor at a very similar institution, the University of the City
of New York, at the time when he was selected for the bishop-
ric of Ohio.

One of his earliest appointments after ordination was to St.
Ann's Church, Brooklyn. The call to this church came in 1827.
While there we find him taking part in the formation of an
evangelical society or conference of clergymen belonging to
New York City and vicinity, called the Protestant Episcopal
Clerical Association. The object of this association was stated
in its constitution to be the promotion of the personal piety
and official usefulness of its members, by devotional exercises
and by conversation on missionary and other religious subjects.
This enterprise was promptly squelched by Bishop Hobart as
something likely to prove mischievous, something that might
lead to "cant" and perhaps to a partisan influence. The word

1 895-] GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. 61

"cant" I quote from Bishop Hobart. One of its .members
being a professor at the General Seminary, it was thought that
this influence might be extended to the students.

Some members of the association afterwards grew up to
higher views. Mcllvaine never did. In his whole life and
doctrine, I c"an find nothing characteristic of Episcopalianism
except that he used the book of Common Prayer, and attached
some importance to Apostolic Succession. Baptismal Regenera-
tion he scouted, while he was in no respect behind Calvin in
maintaining the doctrine of " total depravity," or behind Luther
in his extravagant presentation of the great Protestant heresy
of " justification by faith only."

While a student in the seminary I went one Sunday morn-
ing to hear him preach on this last doctrine, which was his
favorite theme. I think it was at St. Mark's, on Eighth Street.
It made the blood fairly creep through my veins to listen to
him. This must have been in the early summer of 1843, when
he was on a visit to New York, soliciting aid for his institu-
tions at Gambier, Ohio. It falls within my purpose to give the
reader some idea of these institutions. It will show the bishop
such as he was in his own domain, at work in the seat of his
power, with his principal materials for good or evil near at
hand, surrounded by his clergy and neophytes. We shall then
be better able to understand what a formidable adversary to
Tractarianism was such a man, so fortified by his position in
public life, so animated by intelligence and energy of character.

In a published appeal for financial aid, dated New York, June
27, 1843, ne te ll s us tnat tne principal buildings of the institu-
tions at Gambier were the residences of the bishop and of the
president of Kenyon College, and five professors' houses. The
students of the college paid for their instruction, but the
course at the seminary was free. A village had grown up at
this location. The whole tract of land consisted of four thou-
sand acres. Thriving farms were scattered about where only a
few years before nothing could be seen but a primeval forest.
Much of this reminds us of the growth of Nashotah at about
the same period, leaving out the longings of Breck and his
companions for. the ancient faith and for monastic seclusion.

Bishop Mcllvaine had at that time in his diocese fifty-nine
clergymen. Of these, twenty-seven were educated in part or
entirely at Gambier. Others educated in part or entirely there
had moved out of the diocese. We know by other testimony
that some left because the bishop made it too hot for them.

62 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. [April,

Only one student of the General Seminary had come to him
since his accession to the episcopate.

Dr. Mcllvaine was not the sort of man to govern his dio-
cese with a velvet hand. The direct powers of the episcopate
are very limited in the Protestant Episcopal Church, but it was
not his way to economize such power as he had. His tempera-
ment was polemical. Although rightly ranked as an evangelical,
his spirituality consisted more in a protest against " good
works " as having any intrinsic value, than in a tendency to
sentimental piety. There was a great deal of the Presbyterian
in him, but he would have made a poor Methodist. He
opposed himself openly to camp-meetings and to all such revi-
vals as either originated or resulted in breaking up the quietude
of Christian souls.

His views on the subject of revivals are given in full and at
length in a " charge " to his clergy delivered at Chillicothe,
September 5, 1834. It is a strange thing that a Revival of the
true Presbyterian or old-fashioned Congregational type should
have taken place in his own college at Gambier, some five years
later, the results of which were truly remarkable. We give an
account of this Revival as written by the hand of an eye-
witness, Mr. William Richards, who " got religion " on that
occasion. It is taken from a public lecture of Richards' deliv-
ered many years later.

" It commenced," said the lecturer, " without preparation or
special efforts no one knew how ; but it went on until nearly
every student was counted as a ' convert.' The last month or
two of the college year, 1839, was given up mainly to this
revival, as the saving of souls was considered of vastly more
importance than mere learning, or any other earthly interest. I
allude to this event and mention the fact that I was one of the
subjects, simply for the purpose of setting before you what was,
and perhaps still is, the evangelical notion of ' getting religion.'
'Seekers' were diligently impressed with the notion that they
must expect, seek, and pray for a 'change of heart.' And
when, after a sharp struggle, sometimes short and sometimes
lasting days or weeks, one could at last get up in meeting and
say with tears of joy that 'At such an hour and such a place
[possibly behind a big log in the woods, or in the loft of the
barn, or in the closet if he has one, or elsewhere], while agon-
izing and praying to the Lord, suddenly light came in upon his
soul, and he was convicted and felt happy ! ' then he was
regarded and received as a convert. He had 'experienced reli-

i8 9 5.J GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. 63

gion ' ; he was no longer a mere worldling ; he had come out
from the world ; the old Adam was put off ; old things had
passed away and all things had become new! While this
excitement lasted, there was a happy state of feeling. But it is
not in the nature of man to keep up that excitement continu-
ously. The tension must give way, and lassitude and coldness
follow. Then came in many cases the surprising and painful

HENRY L. RICHARDS.

discovery that the change of heart was not a radical change
after all that the old man Adam was not conquered and put
off, and that it was still just as easy as of old to be wicked, to
get angry, to lie or swear, or slander, or have bad thoughts, or
be worldly minded."

I have given the above details simply to furnish a picture
in a general way of the state of things in a Low-church diocese

64 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. [April,

at the period of which I treat. I have given also the ordinary
characteristics of an evangelical or Low-church bishop presiding
in such a diocese. In this case, however, it must not be for-
gotten that the bishop happened to be, not merely a type of
his class, but the leading evangelical bishop of that day, tower-
ing in intelligence, energy, and importance above every other
Low-church bishop. The following sketch of the man has
been given to me by one of his own clergy, now a Catholic
layman, Henry L. Richards, of Winchester, Mass. I have seen
the bishop and heard him preach. I have a very vivid recol-
lection of that occasion. I remember very well, also, my own
conception of the characteristics of the man derived from others
and stored away in my memory. I cannot pretend, however, to
place him before my readers in such true colors as those
furnished me by this venerable convert, who was educated
under the bishop's own eye at Kenyon College and Seminary,
and was even a favorite pupil. Mr. Richards is still, at the age
of eighty years, after a laborious life in business, in the full
vigor of his remarkable faculties, active in charities and literary
pursuits. This is what he says of Bishop Mcllvaine :

" The bishop was in many respects a remarkable man. He
had a good deal of religious fervor and enthusiasm, and a great
horror of Popery. He was arbitrary, dignified, and not very
accessible except to his particular friends and sympathizers.
He was interesting and effective in his extemporary sermons
and addresses, but his formal written discourses were rather
stilted and heavy."

Amongst all evangelical enthusiasts, especially ladies, Bishop
Mcllvaine was a hero, a sort of apostolic divinity. I remember
well the worshipful words of an excellent Presbyterian lady of
New York City already introduced to my readers. Anything
clerical was to her something angelic ; even I, boy that I was,
stood in her regard as something like Raphael's round-chefeked
cherubs, with very little wings put on to atone for cheeks and
eyes extraordinarily human. But Bishop Mcllvaine, though
most violently and bitterly evangelical, with his high talents and
fine elocution, was something superhuman. " Isn't he perfectly
wonderful ? " she would say to me. " Isn't he lovely ? " I
could not enter into her enthusiasm at all, though I would
willingly have done so, for she was very dear to me, and I was
always glad to please her. I acknowledged that he was won-
derful enough. I wondered at him myself, but I thought him
altogether unlovely. I could very well have used the terms

1 895.] GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. 65

applied by the celebrated Rufus Choate in praise of a Massa-
chusetts judge :

"We look upon him as a heathen looks upon his idol. We
know that he is ugly, but we feel that he is great."

Of course, in such a diocese as Ohio, administered by such
a man, Tractarianism could not have, comparatively speaking, any
very great foothold.

The reader will remember, perhaps, the incident given in
Chapter II., of the putting up in the seminary chapel at
Chelsea of a cross surrounded with evergreens, preparatory to
midnight services on Christmas eve. This the students were
obliged to take down by order of Dr. Turner, dean of the
faculty. We learn from the worthy doctor's own Autobio-
graphy, that this incident, apparently so trifling in itself, was
brought before the public in consequence of a communication
to Dr. Turner from the Bishop of Ohio, who had heard of this
affair and wanted to be informed about it. Dr. Turner tells
us that he gave Bishop Mcllvaine an exact account of this
matter in his reply, and consequently it became public. It was,
moreover, made a subject of public ridicule, so the dean tells
us, by a church paper. This looks like the work of Dr.
Seabury of the Churchman. An English work entitled Records
of Councils noticed the same affair with similar ridicule of the
dean's action. Fun also was made of it during the General
Convention of the Episcopal Church at Philadelphia in 1844.

There was very little of war against Tractarianism, either in
private machination or popular excitement, where the shadow
at least of Bishop Mcllvaine's hand did not appear.

Henry L. Richards, already quoted, says of the atmosphere
pervading the bishop's institutions : " There was no conflict in
the seminary or college because he was careful to secure pro-
fessors of his own stripe of churchmanship. There were several
* old-fashioned ' High-churchmen (you know what that meant in
those days) among the clergy, but they were careful not to
render themselves obnoxious to episcopal authority. The bishop
Avas always glad to get rid of High-churchmen and to fill their
places with those who sympathized with him. He was apt to
give the cold shoulder to all who taught the sacramental
system, while those who preached the Calvinistic doctrine of
justification by faith only received his warmest friendship."

But Tractarianism had found its way even into Ohio, at the
time of which I am writing. And when the great break-up
-came at Oxford and at Chelsea Seminary, it brought trouble
VOL. LXI. 5

66 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. [April,

even to Ohio and to Bishop Mcllvaine, while it introduced
young men of high culture, great talent, and eminent virtue
into the fold of the Catholic Church. Foremost amongst these
were several members of the Richards family, of whom five
now living are known to me. To the kindness of some of
these I am indebted for a large part of what I have already
written concerning Bishop Mcllvaine and his diocese, and for
what I have still to write.

I scarcely know where to begin the story, but perhaps it
makes little difference. There was one parish in the diocese of
Ohio, almost if not absolutely the only one in the State, where
High-church ideas prevailed. It was, at least, the principal and
leading one of that sort. This was St. Paul's, at Columbus.
Bishop Mcllvaine thought it a matter of high importance to set
a guard over this congregation, to keep it from spreading in-
fection, and if possible to lead it into more evangelical paths.

In 1842 the bishop appointed to this charge a young man
reared under his own eye, and moulded to his own thoughts and
methods. This was the Rev. Henry L. Richards, already men-
tioned, a graduate of Mcllvaine's Theological Seminary at Gam-
bier, and an approved evangelical. He has said of his theo-
logical studies : " It was during the ' Oxford ' controversy that
we were under the bishop's instruction, and our principal text-
books with him were a small volume on Justification by Faith
Only, and a good-sized octavo on Oxford Divinity, which he
wrote about that time to stem the tide Romeward, which he
had the penetration to see was flowing rapidly in that direc-
tion."

It can easily be seen that such a young man was one after
the bishop's own heart. So thoroughly had he become imbued
with the bishop's sentiments that he had been allowed to preach
his own sermons in the country around Gambier before he was
ordained. But, alas !

" The best laid schemes o' mice and men
Gang aft a-gley."

Dr. Mcllvaine was doomed to be disappointed in his man. St.
Paul's congregation were not brought down to the evangelical
tone, but their young pastor was ere long elevated to higher
views of Christian faith, Christian worship, and the value of
sacraments. The change came about after this wise.

In the congregation of this young church at Columbus one

1 895.] GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. 67

of the principal parishioners was Mr. Isaac N. Whiting, the well-
known bookseller and publisher. Through the friendship and
courtesy of this gentleman, Richards became better acquainted
with the standard works and arguments of the High-church
party. He was introduced to a new world of thought, in which
High-church authors spoke for themselves. In brief, the young
pastor not only became a High-churchman, but passed rapidly
through that unmeaning middle ground, and became a Tracta-
rian. This change soon showed itself, not only in his sermons
but was made manifest to the very eyes of the congregation in
the altar and other fixtures of the church, and in various decor-
ations. The marble-top communion table with desk above and
behind it, and pulpit towering above both table and desk, were
discarded and gave place to something more like a real altar,
in appearance at least.

These things could not be kept long from the knowledge
and attention of such a bishop as Mcllvaine. He had not been
contented up to this time in guiding the minds of his collegians
and seminarians safely through the snares of pompous prelacy
and wicked popery. His wrath against these things, already suf-
ficiently kindled, had been blown into a white heat by the ordi-
nation of Arthur Carey. In a charge to the clergy and laity,
at a convention of his diocese, held in September, 1843, ne had
denounced Tractarianism and openly condemned the action of
Bishop Onderdonk ; and his prominence and rule in Ohio were
so recognized that tl*e convention had seconded this onslaught
by resolutions passed unanimously.

In such circumstances the new altar at St. Paul's, Columbus,
could not stand long. The young rector was ordered to take
it down. He obeyed, albeit reluctantly and under protest. He
sawed out the panels and made an honest table out of a mock
altar that had no sacrifice. The bishop knew very well that, to
all Episcopalian intents and purposes, a true washstand was as
good as a mock altar, but his object was accomplished by this
surrender of the young rector. There were several long and
solid communion tables in the diocese besides that at Columbus,
with embroidered covers or antependiums resembling piano-covers,
but this one he was determined to make an example of as a
Romish innovation. Thereby, moreover, he humbled a new and
somewhat refractory young Tractarian. The young Tractarian
is still living and full of life at the advanced age of eighty years,
and able to laugh both at himself and the bishop.

The resolute bishop had still more thunder in reserve. The

68 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. [April,

priest of St. Paul's was a caput notabile. The other offenders could
say of themselves, Procul a Jove, procul a fulmine, and besides
this they could just as well be attended to a little later and one
at a time. The bishop took occasion from the above incident
to issue a pronunciamento against Roman altars in Protestant
churches which attracted considerable attention and criticism at
the time. Amongst his works may be found a pamphlet pub-
lished in 1846, entitled " Reasons for Refusing to Consecrate a
Church having an Altar."

In 1849 Henry Richard's health becoming poor he went to
New Orleans. At this time he had become a Roman Catholic
in belief. In the heat and enthusiasm of his new conviction he
returned to his home in Columbus, Ohio, " expecting to carry
with him to Rome a number of his devoted High-church friends."
In this he found himself grievously disappointed. This disap-
pointment caused his own courage to fail. He still remained
for two years lingering and afraid to make the great leap which
is always necessary to bring one out of a false church into the
true fold of Christ. These were the two most unhappy years
of his whole life. In addition to the agony engendered in his
own mind, his condition was embittered by the opposition of
friends and the estrangement of his nearest kindred. It is not
necessary to mention these painful things in detail. In the
month of November, 1851, came a sickness unto death. He
found himself in the bosom of his family prostrate and helpless,
apparently just at the gate of eternity and yet outside the pale
of that great church to which his faith clung and in which his
heart lay. He called for a priest. His demand was refused.
It so chanced that in this extremity he

" Found not a generous friend, nor pitying foe."

He had a brother, indeed, who sympathized with him, of
whom more by and by. But that brother was at the time far
away. Kind Providence here interfered, and in a manner as un-
expected by our young Tractarian as by those who should have
listened to the cries of his conscience and befriended him. The
crisis passed away, leaving him still weak but rallying. The
sympathizing brother came on the wings of the wind to his
succor. This brother, named William, a younger man, but, like
Henry, of advanced Catholic views and likewise a thorn in
Bishop Mcllvaine's side, proved for the time a successful peace-
maker. He made arrangements to remove the patient to his

1895.] GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. 69

own home in Newark, Ohio, where he nursed him until his re-
covery.

William had hoped to persuade Henry to delay the great
step, and was prepared with many reasons for such delay. Pre-
cisely the contrary happened. The foolish via media grew
meaningless before the strong light which Henry's mind and
conscience were able to throw upon the questions which came
into discussion between them.

On January 25, 1852, Henry L. Richards was received into
the Catholic Church, and the great chasm was closed which had
separated him for awhile from the home of his conscience.
Fortunately this step did not separate him from his family,
though it broke up his connection with the congregation of St.
Paul's at Columbus, and with Anglicanism. He had acted as
rector of this parish of St. Paul's from 1842 to 1852. When he
sent in his formal resignation, Bishop Mcllvaine was manly
enough to say that he respected him a great deal more for his
consistent action than those who had the same views and senti-
ments yet continued to remain where they were. A strong and
conscientious man is always a thorn in the side of a superior
who rules by an unwarranted authority. Under the circum-
stances, no wonder that the bishop felt relieved.

Being a married man with a family, the advent of Henry
Richards into the Church closed up to him all avenues to a life
in the priesthood. To a highly intellectual and theological mind
like his this loss of a cherished career must have been a great
sacrifice. But he made this sacrifice and others manfully, hope-
fully, and even cheerfully. He acknowledges that he had many
trials to meet at first, but insists that he has always looked
upon these as his greatest blessings. He entered promptly into
business, beginning in New York City as clerk to Edward Frith,
a Catholic gentleman, agent in America for Sanderson Brothers
& Co., Sheffield steel manufacturers. His active, energetic life
in this new vocation has brought to him in his old age comfort
and prosperity, without diminishing his faith and piety, or his
interest in all that concerns the welfare of Christ's Church or
the happiness of his fellow-man. He is the centre of a family
group of Catholics, including the wife of his youth and several
children. One of these, his oldest son, is Henry Richards, edi-
tor of the Sacred Heart Review, published in East Cambridge,
a prosperous Catholic paper. To this, as well as to other papers
and magazines, he himself, at the advanced age of eighty years,
is a frequent and valued contributor. His second son, William,

70 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. [April,

is an enterprising and thriving dealer in iron and steel. His
youngest son, the Rev. J. Havens Richards, S.J., is the well
known and honored President of Georgetown College, D. C.

Among other members of this numerous Catholic family of
Richards is William, Henry's brother, of whom I have already
had occasion to speak as once resident in Bishop Mcllvaine's
diocese, and concerning whom there remains more to be said.

William Richards, a little younger than Henry, and like him

WILLIAM RICHARDS.

early placed under the dominant influence of Bishop Mcllvaine,
was also a student at Kenyon College, graduating with his
brother in 1838. Although strongly religious, the natural bent
of his mind was towards philosophy, and his pathway to religious
truth from the errors of Protestantism lay along a weary course
of philosophic wandering. After his graduation at college, he
remained at the institution for awhile making special studies

i895-] GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. 71

in history, philosophy, and law, under the instruction of the
Rev. Dr. William Sparrow, whom he terms a learned and com-
petent teacher, although a radical Protestant. In 1842 we find
him at the Yale Law School in New Haven, where he still kept
up his readings in philosophy.

From these brief details I hasten forward in order to carry
out my purpose of connecting him with the break-up of Trac-
tarianrsm in the Ohio diocese. William Richards had carefully
kept his eye, all this while, on the progress of his brother Henry
towards Catholic truth, and sympathized with him strongly. It
became his fate to take part also with that brother and others
in troubling the peace of Bishop Mcllvaine.

In the summer of 1844 he received and accepted an invita-
tion from the faculty of Kenyon College to deliver an oration
at the coming commencement. This took place in August.

It was a great occasion, and for any one interested in Ohio
Churchmanship, with a desire in his heart to formulate his views,
a most desirable audience. For William Richards, a pretty well
fledged Tractarian, it was a bold thing to attempt formulating
his at such a time and place. If Tractarians were present in his
audience they were all well handicapped. He was or had been
recently a law student at Yale, but Yale was not in the diocese
of Ohio. His leaders in philosophy, Cousin, Lieber, Carlyle, and
Brownson, were not represented there ; still less Newman, Pusey,
and Faber of Oxford, or Dr. Seabury of the New York Church-
man. Kenyon College, however, was there, with a great part of
its affiliation ; and Charles Pettit Mcllvaine, head of the college
and seminary, and facile princeps of Low-churchism in the United
States, was there in all his glory, and with far more than his
full canonical power.

" He was the heart of all the scene."

It was in such a place, before such an audience, and in such
a presence, that William Richards, a graduate of Kenyon, and
still only a student, unlaureled in any profession, dared to intro-
duce his philosophical and theological bomb-shell. His philo-
sophical aberrations from current Evangelical tradition might,
perhaps, easily have found pardon. Older mert than he was are
expected betimes to slip up in such matters. What American
cares for a few powder-crackers in a barrel ? But why speak
disrespectfully in such an atmosphere of private judgment?
Why intimate that the sacred right of private judgment, so
precious in the eyes of Protestant Evangelicals, and so strongly

72 GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. [April,

intimated in the Thirty-nine Articles, is inconsistent with the
Twentieth Article, which puts forth in plain terms the following
declaration to be subscribed by all the English clergy :

" The Church hath power to decree rites or ceremonies, and
authority in controversies of Faith."

It is true that the Church of England has so little authority
that she dares not attempt to hold a convocation to decide any
question of faith or doctrine, and that she has never enjoyed
this privilege since she was first begotten. She cannot even
interfere authoritatively in matters of ceremony without permis-
sion of the prime minister, or the sanction of the state Court of
Arches. This is very true, but it only makes the presumption of
young Richards all the more apparent. Private interpretation
may be very uncivil although quite rightful. Such was in fact
the general judgment that day at Kenyon College.

This oration embraced, moreover, one more telling point, one
more novelty which startled not only the bishop but the whole
audience. It was a sigh for unity, and that a unity from which
was not excluded the ancient church, Catholic and Roman.
This remarkable oration was the topic of discussion at all the
dinner-tables that day in Gambier, and the universal comment
was : " That young man is on the road to Rome ! "

At the end of his oration, as William Richards left the stage
and walked down the aisle, he met a friend, a lawyer of Colum-
bus, who was to deliver the next oration. He saluted Richards
with the blunt question : " What did you mean by that ora-
tion ? " The answer was : " I meant just what I said." " Well,"
said his friend, " I brought two orations with me the best one
on * French Literature/ and the other on ' William Leggett/
and now I am going to give you a counterblast by giving the
' Leggett ' document." This second oration proved to be as
radical in politics as any Evangelical discourse could be in reli-
gion, but not quite so startling at Gambier that day as the
utterances of Richards.

Among those present at these exercises was the Rev. George
Denison. He was rector of the church at Newark, where
Richards resided, and nephew of Bishop Philander Chase. It
was a great annoyance to him at the dinner-tables that day to
be obliged to admit to numerous questioners that the Tractarian
orator was a parishioner of his.

William Richards fulfilled the prophecies so freely made con-
cerning him on this commencement day which we have described.
He became a Catholic. He lives amongst us now, one of the

1895.] GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN AN ANGLICAN SEMINARY. 73

most honored names in the church's long list of educated con-
vert laymen. A manuscript lecture of his delivered in 1887,
before the Carroll Institute, for the benefit of the Brownson
Monument Fund, has been generously put in my hands, and
aided me much in the preparation of this chapter. I have only
used such incidents and dates as lend themselves to my especial
purpose.

Those who would study the great social problems of our day
by the light given to a true Catholic made competent to speak
from the bosom of a long experience, ripened by a careful and
thoughtful philosophy, and by a truly spiritual faith which
always recognizes duty both to God and man, should read the
essay of this same William Richards of Washington, printed in
the " Proceedings of the American Catholic Congress of 1889."

In the present chapter I have only picked a few seeds from
the surface of a large field, confining myself to the locality of
a single diocese and to a short period of three or four years
memorable in my own life. Bishop Mcllvaine, Gambier, with its
theological seminary and Kenyon College, lie before us as plain as
I know how to picture them. These are in contrast with Bishop
Whittingham and scenes which surrounded him at the same
period. Both these localities connect by wires with the Chelsea
Seminary, which in many respects must be considered, at the
period in question, as the centre of electric fire. It is a sort of
drama that we have attempted to present, and trust that we
have sufficiently preserved "the unities." The unity of action
must be looked for in that momentary confusion which we Trac-
tarian converts unwittingly united to produce. A sudden break-
up came first. After that break-up there settled upon many
grateful hearts in America a sweet and long-abiding peace.

FINIS.

JESUS SAITH TO HER : MARY. SHE TURNING, SAITH TO HlM : RABBONI
(WHICH IS TO SAY, MASTER). ,57. John XX. 16.

ADSUM !

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

HEN my soul lay sick with grief

At the tomb where Love lay dead,
And night's chills were on my head,
Mild-eyed Dawn brought no relief.

Vainly did her beauties ope
In the paley pearly light-
Verdant valley, bosky height,

Velvet turf and graceful slope.

All the subtle grace was flown
That I found on that glad day
When mine eyes first caught the ray

From Love's eye can speed alone.

Yet the same fair scene I scanned

Sion's hills and Juda's plain,

With its fields of plumy grain
Stretching far to Moab's land.

Unseen shadows seemed to pall,

Numbing as the touch of dead ;

And a void and hush of dread,
Though the day shone o'er it all.

In the time of riant joy,

When the garlands Pleasure wove
For the goddess miscalled Love

Seemed as though they'd never die,

Then the beauty of that land

Had no value in mine eyes

But as meet for Paphian skies,
Joyous rout and Bacchic band.

7 6

ADSUM !

How abhorred those garlands now !
Poison wreaths of withered shame,
False as flatterer's vows of flame,

They have burned into my brow !

For the talisman I found

From those eyes the spell to raise,
And reveal the noisome ways

Rose and vine-wreath clustered round.

Then the light had light within,
And the dark all blacker seemed,
And my soul, from death redeemed,

Burst like bud from shell of sin.

But, ah, woe ! Love's talisman

Impious Death soon snatched away,
And the light fled from the day,

Shuddering earth lay 'neath a ban.

Faint, despairing, crouched I near

That dark tomb where Love lay dead,
Calling on my Lord though dead,
When I heard His voice divine,
And I felt his hand on mine :

" Weep not, daughter ; I am here."

[April.

THE DAY NURSERY IN WEST SJTH STREET, NEW YORK.

LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

HEN Hood wrote his tragic " Song of the Shirt " he
dreamed only of the toiling woman, ill-paid and
ill-clad, as the deepest embodiment of misery.
But his picture would have been heightened in
effect had he painted the toiler distracted from
the pursuit of her sore task by the wailings of a famishing
infant and the clamors of one or two older children. Chaucer
draws tears from our eyes when we read his tale of Ugolino in
the Tower ; we throb with fierce indignation when we hear
how the tyrant John revenged himself on the family of De
Braose. But the political economy of civilization is a tyrant as
ruthless as any mediaeval despot. Death by starvation, slow but
sure, is the doom it decrees to many and many a poor mother,
thrown by the loss of the bread-winner, or, worse still, the en-
slavement of that bread-winner by the drink-demon, upon the
tender mercies of what may most fittingly be described as the
Iron Age.

This is no fancy picture. Imagination has no hand in its
creation. There are thousands upon thousands of such women.

/8 LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS. [April,

You can find them in New York by the score in any part of
the " sweating " districts. London's slums are choked with
them. Liverpool, Glasgow, Manchester every place where
strong drink and a grimy factory system make a harvest for the
undertaker. If one could, like the explorer in the Diable
Boiteaux, but take the roofs off some of those dreadful dens
where the " sweaters " toil in their blind misery, he would see
such sights of wasting infancy and etiolate womanhood as might
make the angels weep. What picture could be more pitiful than
that of a poor mother vainly trying to work whilst her infants
crowd around her, clogging her movements and maddening her
brain by their cries for food and warmth ? Not even the spec-
tacle of " Niobe, all tears," mourning her slain offspring, could
surpass it in intensity of pathos.

THE BEGINNING OF ALLEVIATION.

To whom the credit of devising a remedy for this tremen-
dous evil is due, it might be profitless to inquire. As well ask,
perhaps, who invented the mariner's compass. It is an idea of
Catholicism, as old as the religion itself, to lighten the burdens
of the overladen wherever possible. Many a poor Catholic
woman, we may be sure, sought to help a struggling neighbor
by " minding the baby " whilst the mother endeavored to make
a living for herself and her children ; and it was the sight of
such spontaneous, unorganized, and most frequently, no doubt,
inefficient help which suggested to some more thoughtful Catho-
lic neighbor that a great field for systematized philanthropy lay
here. A double charity was seen to be possible at one stroke.
The poor mother might be set free to go and earn her pittance,
and at the same time the educational process might begin in
the case of the baby.

THE FIRST DAY NURSERY FOR CATHOLICS.
Day Nurseries are not altogether a modern idea. Institu-
tions of this kind existed in New York for a considerable time
prior to the foundation of any special Catholic one. In other
places they had been started with a view inimical to Catho-
licism. Even if not inimical, they are still objectionable to
Catholic mothers ; for these, as a rule, desire that the instill-
ing of religion into the infantine mind shall be as sure a thing
as the nourishment of its body. In some places the day nurs-
ery was often the happy hunting-ground of the proselytizer.
To the visiting members of the St. Vincent de Paul Society

1895.] LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS. ; 9

the pressing need of a Catholic nursery soon became apparent
when the population began to crowd the west side of New
York. The multitude which of late years has settled down
upon this comparatively new district is nearly altogether
a working population, and mostly Catholic. Working-women
form, besides, a very large proportion of it. To these practical
visitors it soon became evident that the very best form of
charitable help they could bring to such sorely-harassed mothers
would be to enable them to go out to their daily industry, un-
troubled by anxiety for their children of tender age, and con-
soled by the certain knowledge that these were being cared for
better even than they could do it themselves. As the result of
a consultation it was determined, therefore, to start a Day
Nursery, and to place it under the spiritual patronage of the
saint whom God had honored by giving him the earthly care of
the Divine Child. It was thus that St. Joseph's Day Nursery
had its beginning.

A GOOD START.

From the outset the auspices were favorable to success.
The movement had the hearty co-operation of the Paulist Con-
gregation, in whose parish the Nursery was set up. It had also
been warmly supported by the Catholic clergy of the adjoining
parishes, as well as by the esteemed Vicar-General, Very Rev.
Dean Mooney. The influential lay element of the district was
also appealed to, with very encouraging results, not alone in
generous help toward the establishment of the Nursery, but in
the zeal shown in pushing forward the practical work necessarily
connected therewith. There are men of bright intellect and
excellent business capacity in the ranks of the St. Vincent de
Paul Society, and it is to the zealous efforts, constantly exerted,
of these philanthropic souls that the initial success and the sub-
sequent development of the institution are mainly owing. Once
established, no small share of the success or failure of the
undertaking must depend on the character, temperament, and
ability of those placed in charge of it. In this respect the
committee were singularly fortunate.

PROGRESSIVE RESULTS.

For the first year the operations of the enterprise were rather
of a tentative character than those of a fairly launched experi-
ment. Still a total of six thousand and odd children looked
after during a twelve-month looks respectable enough on paper;

LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS.

[April,

and this was the actual record. There was an average attend-
ance of twenty children all the days of the year, one put
against the other. On some of these days there were as many
as forty-one children in the house. It was found that this
number was only a fraction of that which could be reached
were the accommodations more ample, and the bold step was
taken of purchasing a large house and handing it over bodily
for the work of the institution for it was in temporary quar-
ters in West Sixty-third Street that the first year's work was
carried on. A fine, spacious house in West Fifty-seventh Street
was secured and fitted up, and operations on a more extended
scale at once commenced. In the twelve months following the

AN IDEAL HOME A SORT OF LIBERTY HALL.

average daily attendance mounted up to 48, and the total of
children received within the year to 14,446. On some days
there were as many as 74 infants in the Nursery. This was a
great jump from the first year's showing, but it was not yet
high-water mark. Next year showed a total of 15,387 children
taken in, and the following year a total of 18,010. One day as
many as 96 infants were held in the house, and the average
throughout the year was 58. The directors have no hesitation
in attributing the great success of the establishment to those

I89S-]

LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS.

officers who have undertaken the onerous duty of its daily
administration. These officers are filled with the true spirit of
charity. They have truly what Hamlet calls a " feeling of their
business," as all must have who devote their lives to the tend-
ing of helpless or suffering humanity for the sake of God. The
duties incidental to the care of infancy are performed in St,

WHAT A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THIS METHOD AND THE OLD-FASHIONED SCHOOL !

Joseph's in such a way as to divest the place of the atmos-
phere of a nursery, and make it what it is indeed intended to
be a home for the children ; a model home, moreover, where
neatness, order, and the happiness of childish innocence reign all
the day.

THE KINDERGARTEN.

A two-fold duty is carried on simultaneously in the institu-
VOL. LXI. 6

82 LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS. [April,

tion. The body is nurtured, and when the infant's age permits
it the mind is taken in hand at once. The good matron, Miss
Jane Hamblin, takes charge of the one department ; a bright
young lady, Miss Jennie Kiernan, looks after the Kindergarten
branch of the home. The beauty of that system is seen in no
part as strikingly as in the early stage, as in this case, where it
shows as an art concealing art. The children are playing, and
all the time they are playing they are imbibing such knowledge
as their infantile capacity can absorb. We hear much talk
nowadays about hypnotism. Here we behold a fresh illus-
tration of the ancient truth of the newness of nothing beneath
the sun. These happy, laughing little mites are more completely
under the control of the mild-mannered but alert young lady
who presides in the school-room than Barnum and Bailey's
menagerie under that of the lion-tamer with his basilisk eye, his
red-hot irons, and his terrible cowhide. And the only spell she
uses is the beautiful one of loving sympathy and kindness.
What a difference between this method and the old-fashioned
school, with, its ferocious ferule-armed dominie behind his ros-
trum like an " avenging deity, 1 and the row's of .terror-stricken
scholars whq had

" learned to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face."

C .' '''', ' V ! ;". ..

This 3s in accordance with the cardinal idea of the foundation.
To divest it entirely of the semblance of an institution and
make it a home an- ideal home a sort of Liberty Hall in
outward seeming, where the silent pressure of the first mould
of civilization should be gently laid on the tender inchoate
faculties of mind and heart, until the germs of character
were securely Developed. It is those early days of infancy
which are, after all, the most formative ; whatever shape the
mind and will finally assume is determined by the bent which is
given them from the moment when they first manifest suscepti-
bility. Here the educational process begins at a very early
period. These little Kindergarten folk range in age from three
years to seven. The babies under three are retained in the
large dormitory above, where the rows of beautiful white enam-
elled cribs are filled with little scraps of humanity from two
months old, pulling away at sucking-bottles or slumbering in
the happy, dreamless drowse of infancy whose calm is ruffled
only, as it appears to fond mothers, by the noiseless sweep of
angelic pinions.

1895.] LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS. 83

THE MOVEMENT IN CHICAGO.

In Chicago also, it is gratifying to observe, the Day Nursery
idea has been taken up experimentally, with very gratifying
results. The plan put into operation there appears to have a
somewhat wider scope than that of St. Joseph's. It embraces
Sunday-school, a sewing-class, and a dispensary for the treatment
of infantile maladies. The results of the first year's work, as
given in the report recently published, show a striking similarity
to those of the first year of the New York institution, at a
parity of outlay, very nearly. In Chicago the work is entirely
in the hands of the Catholic Women's National League, and the
institution is named after its patroness, St. Elizabeth of Hun-
gary. The same breadth of principle that underlay the New
York foundation is displayed in St. Elizabeth's. There is no
color line; there is no creed line; there is no race line. This,
being a denotement of divine charity, was the only fitting prin-
ciple, it was instinctively felt by the founders in either case,
for a Catholic charity starting on its mission. Likewise, in
order that the self-respect of the working mothers be main-
tained, it was decided that a nominal charge for the care of
children be the rule of the Nursery. In cases where this would
be a burden, it is not insisted on.

A Club for Working-girls is, a noteworthy adjunct of St.
Elizabeth's. This is a feature which deserves separate consider-
ation, however,. and all those who are interested in the welfare
of working-girls may usefully note the progress of the Social
Union in London and other parts of England, and study the
recorded observations of this most interesting and wide-reaching
experiment. This, however, is another question not less inter-
esting and important, in its own way, and growing out of the
other like the polypus from its coral stem. The necessities of
the case, in every populous locality, must be the guiding princi-
ple in all movements for social amelioration. It is not conceiva-
ble how any beneficent mind, having once seen a Day Nursery
in full operation, could hesitate a moment about deciding to
help on so practical and feasible a work of Christian philan-
thropy. Here is presented the most perfect adaptation of the
spiritual to the physical needs of humanity that could be found.
The simplicity of the machinery by which the most far-reaching
results are obtained is one of the most striking features in the
system. A few hearts filled with womanly sympathy joined to a
couple of heads filled with womanly tact in the management of

8 4

LITTLE PEOPLE AND GREAT IDEAS.

[April,

children these are the staple requirements for the starting of
such an institution, but not the only ones. They would suffice for
the post of matron ; the teacher must, in addition, possess the
advantage of knowledge and experience in that modern method
of training which has already worked such wonders-^the Kinder-
garten.

A SUGGESTION FOR THE WELL-TO-DO.

Here is something to ponder on : Even were there never a
question of helping the working population, would it not be a
far better social plan to have this system of infant education
generally applied, than to leave it a question of haphazard as
at present ? The children of comfortable, well-to-do people, who

IN THE NURSERY.

are left in their early years to the care of servants and local
surroundings, must, more especially in populous places, be sub-
jected, as soon as they are capable of forming impressions
and observing, to influences of a kind, at least now and again,
calculated to stifle the finer instincts and to draw forth the
animal rather than the spiritual qualities. From early infancy
to early youth is the crucial stage, and it is the period which is
most neglected for the most part. The mind is allowed to
grow up as it can, as a weed or an untrained creeper. Wher-
ever it is possible the more enlightened way should be unhesi-
tatingly put into operation.

i895-] SMILES. 85

Whatever may be done, however, with regard to scattered
places, there cannot be any hesitation in deciding as to the
positive blessing the Day Nursery system proves to be in indus-
trial centres. Carried on, as it is, without distinction as to
creed or race or color, but on the broad principle of human
brotherhood and undiscriminating sympathy, it is a help towards
a practical solution of some of those grave social problems
which perplex us in this age of transition and unrest. It is
possible to establish one of these in every parish in every big
city where the charitable machinery of the church an adjunct
which marches with it as surely as the shadow with the object
has had even a rudimentary beginning. In every Catholic com-
munity there are good and charitable hearts, and a few active
workers may as certainly be relied on. It is to the attention of
this class that we would commend what is being done at St.
Joseph's as an excellent example and an auspicious beginning.

SMILES.

BY M. E. K.

HAT are smiles bright, cheery smiles ?
Music that life's gloom beguiles ;
Drops of sweet, refreshing dew,
Blighted blossoms life anew

Freely giving ; sunlight's ray

Stealing 'mid dark scenes to play ;

Flowers of sweetest perfume rare

Life's dim vista making fair ;

Gladsome angels, heaven-sent,

Bringing the world sweet content ;

Priceless gems from God's own mine

Shedding radiance sublime.

Ope thy treasures hoarded treasures-
Scatter jewels far and near ;

Weary pilgrim on his journey
Comfort with a smile of cheer.

Smile in gladness, when life's sunshine
Gleams upon thee fair and bright ;

Smile in sadness smiles will gladden
E'en the gloom of Grief's drear night.

86 MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. [April,

MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY.

BY REV. WALTER ELLIOTT.

:N reading the Missionary Notes published in this
magazine some might think that the missionaries
are over-sanguine. " You make too much of the
friendly reception given you," it might be said,
" for it is curiosity rather than deep religious
feeling that brings Protestants to hear you. It will be a long
and weary work to convert this people, or any large portion of
them." In answer to such thoughts w r e say that we have not
to render account for the future. Our responsibility is limited
to fulfilment of present obligations. And for the present we
can get an audience of non-Gatholics everywhere and in most
places a numerous one. Hence we are missionaries.

The writer has given over forty missions to non-Catholics
.during this and the preceding winter, always obtaining good
attendance and in a majority of cases overflowing audiences.

Let us realize as an actual fact that we can get a hearing.
Accept our evidence, accept the evidence of many other priests
from all sections of the country ; we are witnesses who have
tried the experiment and who have succeeded. The condition
of things is therefore this : the Catholic Church in America is
among a non-Catholic people who are willing to listen to Catho-
lic truth. Stop at that fact and square your conscience with it.
As layman, priest, or prelate, reckon with God thus : I am a
member of the one true church, and I can get a hearing for its
claims from non-Catholics ; what should I do about it ?

The ears of our separated brethren are open to the truth ;
such is the actual fact. It may be said that the open ear is
not always the open heart ; and that is true. The word of
truth is sometimes, nay often, permitted to enter in at the ear
but refused an entrance to the heart. Men hear and do not
believe. They hear willingly enough in some cases, attracted
only by a sense of fair play, by mere admiration of the style
or substance of the lectures, with no thought of accepting and
assimilating what they often admit to be theoretically true. No
doubt the word of God frequently lodges on the surface of the
heart, to be allowed to wither there by neglect or to be over-
grown by worldliness and passion. But there are heart-mission-

1 895.] MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. 87

aries as well as ear-missionaries. And it is great gain to win
only a hearing. In doing that much one is certainly God's
instrument. In moving hearts one cannot tell what instrument
the Holy Spirit will use. But the undoubted fact that we can
get a hearing is a valuable (if perhaps an unwelcome) element
in making up an account of conscience ; and this is true
whether I am layman or clergyman.

The duty of a Catholic is not confined to making converts
outright. It is to remove bitterness, to set aside delusions, to
overcome prejudice. If you cannot make converts of your
Protestant neighbors you can at least make good-natured Pro-
testants of them. Is there no obligation to set about doing
this? If you can get a hearing, it may be that you cannot gain
an immediate victory, but you can reduce the warfare to a
friendly contest, you can put an end to polemical scalping. To
establish our belligerent rights is half the battle. To secure a
hearing for Catholicity as one among the religious claimants is
an immense advantage. As to positively converting particular
persons, two influences are most necessary ; one is God's secret
inspiration, and the other is the piety and intelligence of Catho-
lic friends and relatives. But both of these are aided by public
lectures, which frequently are necessary adjuncts of inner grace
and outer edification.

The outlook is favorable. Not every one perceives it, any
more than every one understands the outlook in the business
world ; the eye for business opportunities is in the business
man's head. So the missionary prospects are known by those
whose vocation or whose inner light has led them to study the
matter. Such observers perceive that prejudice is not nearly so
strong as once it was, allowing for exceptions in particular
places or among particular classes. Many Protestants are now
met with who will not take it for granted that - Catholicity is
totally wrong, has no foundation in reason or in revelation.
Converts are an appreciable part of many of our congregations.
The press dare not openly attack the church, and in large part
has no desire to do so, and it is quite accessible to the publica-
tion of articles on the Catholic side. And, especially, judicious
attempts to gain a public hearing for Catholic claims secure a
non-Catholic audience. Furthermore, practical and zealous
Catholicity is not deemed a bar to social intercourse.

Nor is this open door merely the idle curiosity of a worldly
or vicious people. Although worldliness and vice are prevalent
enough among our separated brethren, antagonism to revealed
religion is comparatively rare. And as a worldly Catholic still

88 MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. [April,

holds fast to his faith, so does a worldly Protestant adhere to
his, allowing for many exceptions and admitting that his faith
is vague. The non-Catholic people of America, good and
bad and taken as a body, are religious in their tendencies.
They believe in God as their maker and ruler, in Jesus Christ
as their teacher and Saviour, in the Scripture as God's book.
And, taken again as a body, their aversion to Catholicity is
not passionate. On religious subjects of every kind, not except-
ing Catholic doctrine and practice, they will converse much,
read some, and will listen to competent lecturers. May it not be
affirmed that this condition of our countrymen places us in the
position of the Apostle? " Woe is me if I preach not the gospel."

I am by no means implying that infidelity is unknown, or
that there is no peril, no threatening sign of unbelief growing
general among non-Catholics. Doubt is among them, and doubt
is an infectious disease. All I mean to say is, that Protestants
generally hold truths which are introductory to full Christianity,,
to use the happy expression of the Pope in his Encyclical to
the American Church. Of the future we know nothing, however
much we may conjecture. What is evident is that Christ yet
stands before the American Protestant people as their accepted
teacher ; he is to them their Saviour and their God. And what,
think you, is the duty which his church owes to such a people ?

Our proposition, if put in another form, might be stated
thus : There is satisfactory evidence that the majority of our non-
Catholic countrymen are persuaded that if a Catholic lives up
to his religion it will make, a good man of him ; they now agree
that Catholicity can make men virtuous, that it does not hinder
their being good citizens in a word, is a religion worthy of
respect ; that means worthy of a hearing an admission on their
part of incalculable missionary value, and of most serious im-
port to our consciences.

This takes practical shape in a missionary tendency in the
ordinary ministrations of religion. Every parish priest should be
something of a missionary. Every parish church should have
an apostolic side ; as to doctrine, by lecturing, preaching, and
distributing literature ; as to devotion, by introducing extra-litur-
gical services which non-Catholics can understand and are likely
to attend. Elsewhere (see American Ecclesiastical Review, Sep-
tember, 1894) I have enlarged on this part of my topic, for the
special attention of my brethren of the parish clergy. Every
function of the parish church can, if the pastor wishes it, be
made a medium of communicating truth to non-Catholics.

But let us hope that a band of Bishop's missionaries may

1 895-] MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. 89

soon be introduced into every diocese, as we already have one in
the diocese of Cleveland a limited number of the diocesan
clergy set apart, each for a term of years, for missions to non-
Catholics. Let such missions once become part of the routine of
a diocese and even routine men will rise to. a missionary level.
The assignment to this work of competent members of the secu-
lar clergy, while stimulating all the missionary influences of the
regular parish services, will, in addition, give a public name and
life to the apostolic side of religion.

Divine Providence has so shaped men and things in the uni-
versal church that both in spirit and method we are now well
fitted for apostolic undertakings. Pope, bishops, and priests are
drawn nearer together now than for many ages heretofore. The
Pope is more the bishops' Pope than formerly; and, especially
here in America, the bishops are more the Pope's bishops than
during the fading era of established churches and concordats :
and that makes the bishop's priests more an apostolic priest-
hood than formerly. It makes all the people, whether they be
Catholics or non-Catholics, sheep within the fold, or " other sheep
not of this fold," the people of the Bishops and the Pope.

But meantime some of us wait for ecclesiastical legislation.
The unready man covets the spur of the law until he feels it,
and then he clamors for freedom. Priests say, Why don't the
bishops take up Protestant missions ; and then the people say,
Why don't the priests take them up ? And we all say, Why don't
the Catholic press do it ? And, again, Why don't the religious
orders do more of it ? All of which means let anybody set to
work converting Protestants except poor me.

Missionary movements do not originate by law-making. The
suggestions of Providence can rarely be made compulsory, least
of all those for winning souls. In this sort of campaigning the
soldier would rather run in the way of God's commandments
because God had enlarged his heart than because the ecclesias-
tical Provost Guard will whip up the stragglers. Fruitful mis-
sionary activity originates in the voices heard in the inner cham-
bers of men's souls. Apostolic zeal flows from the springs opened
in our hearts by the touch of the Holy Spirit. When he smites
the rock abundant waters flow forth, when he lifts the rod the
Red Sea of obstacles is parted asunder.

Authority is indeed necessary, but rather as an aid to mis-
sions than as a creative force. And let me ask my clerical
reader a few questions: Did your bishop ever hinder you in
any good work for Protestants ? Have you done all the good
for them he will let you do ? Have you always treated him in

90 MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. [April,

a way to secure his affectionate trust ? Can a bishop be the
man-of-all-work for a hundred and fifty priests, and be the Holy
Ghost besides to originate new departures ? Let a zealous and
competent priest first try his hand at public lecturing in places
and under circumstances favorable to his purpose, and then let
him form his plans and submit them to his bishop.

For a priest a few years ordained no better fortune could
be coveted than some time spent in apostolic lecturing. And
at the end of life, no thanksgiving will be more heartfelt than
that of the priest who can say : " Thank God ! He gave me
the grace to win souls from darkness to life."

The career of the priesthood is placed in public life, not in a
hermitage. Our great High-Priest went about doing good, and so
worked and taught that the people pressed upon him in vast mul-
titudes. His moments of solitude were stolen from his hours of
labor. Some good priests forget this. " Who built the church in
this spot, away outside the town ?" I once asked an active pastor,
and he answered : " One of my predecessors, an excellent man but
timid. His successor and my immediate predecessor, also a de-
vout man, was never seen by the general public here, except
once a day as he walked solemnly down to the post-office and
walked solemnly back again. The rest of the time he was in-
visible to all but his own people. Out of his sanctuary and his
residence he acted like the Lord's ticket-of-leave man and all
this he boasted of as the right course of conduct. So that
when I came here I found Catholicity a sort of hermit church."

This peculiarity is sometimes varied by the most bitter public
attacks against Protestantism, both doctrinal and personal. The
following from the Life of Blessed Grignon de Montfort, who cer-
tainly was not a minimizer of doctrine, is here apropos : " It is
interesting to note that in dealing with Calvinists he never
touched on any irritating subject, and that, contrary to the advice
of many, he avoided all controversy, which too often has no
other effect than to place the mind of- the hearers in an attitude
of defence, if not of antago-nism. He contented himself with
setting before them the Catholic doctrines in their simple beauty,
and pointing out the marvellous connection of one with the
other. He was convinced that the revelation of God in Christ
as delivered to men by the one church, which is his body, is so
beautiful and luminous as before long to approve itself to every
truly unprejudiced mind. His chief effort, therefore, was to re-
move prejudices, and to free the minds of his hearers from false
conceptions of Catholic truth." And although this great servant
of God preached his extreme devotion to Mary as well to Pro-

I895-] MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. 9 i

testants as to Catholics, yet his kindliness and his freedom from
controversy enabled him to make many conversions, some of
them being notorious haters of the faith (vol. ii. p. 122).

Nothing in the way of controversy can equal the direct state-
ment of the truth by a man esteemed by his hearers for his
virtues ; nothing but wilful prejudice can fail of receiving some
good influence from it. We can certainly count on a move-
ment in many minds towards conversion as the result of Catho-
lic sermons and lectures well prepared and well delivered by
public-spirited priests. The temptation to attack Protestantism,
we must admit, is great. For example, it makes one's blood
boil to think of honest people being fooled with such a prepos-
terous delusion as that the private interpretation of the Bible
is the divine rule of faith. And there are so many outright
self-contradictions in distinctive Protestant doctrines, that all
one's logical faculty rises in indignation. The very sense of the
humorous which is aroused by incongruities and inconsistencies
is embittered by the lamentable sight of so many millions of
good souls kept from the peaceful unity of truth, the joy of
certain pardon for sin, the participation in the divine life of the
Eucharist, the fulness and security of union with the Holy Spirit
in the interior life of prayer as practised in the Catholic Church.

But it will not do to attack even delusions which are asso-
ciated with all the pious thoughts of a life-time. Locate holi-
ness and truth where they belong, in God's church ; and the in-
telligent classes will sooner or later perceive that what they
revered as Protestantism, was but Catholicity impoverished and
in exile. Let us resist the temptation to attack Calvinism, for
it is being put to death in the house of its friends, and its
very slayers will resent your interference. Among Protestants
themselves there is an active and universal movement against
the errors peculiar to the Reformation era, such as the private
ownership of God's word, justification without works, total de-
pravity, religion without church. Let these agitators have a
monopoly of exterminating error they are numerous, active,
and every way competent. The day will come when spoil and
spoiler will both be brought into the church. But oh ! let us get
into men's minds our positive doctrines. Let us do it at once.
Let us work and pray and teach and lecture, let us print and
distribute these holy truths, let us converse about them, and truths
whose restful knowledge is the root and foundation of all our joy.

How many times do we not hear something like this : " Father,
up to a year ago a good many Protestants used to attend our
church, and we were beginning to have some conversions. But

92 MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. [April,

a mission came along (or we had some lectures),, and the fathers
so abused our friends and neighbors and called them such hard
names that since then we can't induce them to listen to us at all."

The conversion of this Republic rests on our souls. The
American people belong to Jesus Christ and to his church.
Even if ninety-nine out of a hundred of them were safe in the
fold, he bids us leave the many to take care of themselves and
go forth and seek and save the few that are lost. But it is
just the reverse. It is a small portion of the flock who are safe.
Who, then, shall blame a priest if he steals away occasionally
from his " ordinary duties " to take advantage of his missionary
opportunities? Who shall blame a bishop if he allows one or
two parishes to remain for a season vacant, that a million of im-
mortal souls may not cry out against him at the day of judgment?

One of our Lord's most famous miracles was expedited be-
cause it was in favor of a Gentile, of whom, the disciples said,
" He loveth our nation and hath built us a synagogue." .Pre-
cisely so with many good Protestants all over America. They
love our people, they admire their virtues, and are patient with
their faults. And where is there a Catholic Church in the
United States which has not Protestant money in it ? not to
mention our charitable and educational institutions. What !
shall we send missionaries to cannibals in the South Seas and
none to these our brethren ?

Would that only a quarter as much money and a little of
the zeal expended upon evangelizing the red men and the black
men among us were given to missions for white non-Catholics !
There is almost a positive distinction made against the whites
in missionary matters, a distinction founded on " race, color, or
previous condition of servitude." If a black man or a red
savage were so much as hindered admission at the door of a
circus tent for racial reasons, the whole power of the American
Union would, if necessary, be used to set the wrong right.
Yet you seem willing to bar out the whites from the tabernacle
of the Covenant on account of the unhappy accident of being
members of the Caucasian race, the imperial blood of the world.
There are newly founded and already flourishing orders of mis-
sionaries of both sexes wholly set apart for our black Protest-
ants and our red heathen, there are splendid seminaries and
colleges and novitiates and schools to train evangelists for the
Protestant toilers in kitchens and stables and for the miserable
remnants of our Indian tribes ; and what is being done for their
cultured and powerful masters ? Nay, if you say charity demands
our first care for the ignorant, the poor, the outcast, I reply by

1895-] MUSINGS OF A MISSIONARY. 93

asking if there are none such whose skin is white? Are there
no " poor whites " in the South ? Is there any ignorance denser
than that of millions of Northern whites concerning the truths
of Christ's religion? And are there no educated Protestants
gone totally astray in religion? A man who knows everything
but Christ's true religion is only the more ignorant for his
knowledge. " I hold everything as dung save the knowledge of
the Lord Jesus Christ."

Black, red, white, tawny our standard is of every color.
41 My beloved is white and ruddy." " I am black but beautiful " :
yes ; but do you mean by that that black is the only beautiful ?
Not long ago I was equally amazed and edified at the account
of hundreds of noble priests who had died of malaria on the
African missions, the average life of the fathers, as my informant,
who is provincial of a missionary order, assured me, being
hardly seven years after arrival at the missions. But when I
.spoke to him of the American mission to the whites he was
evidently the recipient of thoughts wholly new. Now I say
this: If you will send your hundreds to an early death from
African malaria, why not give at least a few of your heroes to
apostolic labors here in America, where they may die after many
years of hard work in lecturing and catechising and interview-
ing and converting kindly fellow-citizens? No one wonders that
the ends of the earth are searched for souls to be saved, for that
is our church's mission ; but I wonder at being thought eccentric
for appealing for missionaries to save souls right at our own doors.

In the many non-Catholic missions which we have given,
nearly all of them in public halls, we have learned many strange
things, but strangest of all is the ripeness of the harvest. The
fruit is so ripe that it is falling from the trees and is being
carried away by every passer-by. Even the religious perplexi-
ties among our countrymen, their very divisions and subdivisions,
spring from their eagerness for the truth. They want to be
holy with the holiness of Christ, and that makes them enter and
then it makes them leave one and now another denomination.
They are a religious people who are accessible to Catholic argu-
ment would that all bishops, all provincials of communities, all
priests and nuns, would write this fact on their hearts ! Let it
be posted up at every recruiting station of our Lord's peaceful
army, that the American people can be drawn to listen to his
Church. Let it be announced in the seminaries, let it be pla-
carded in the novitiates and colleges and scholasticates the
world over: Behold, THE GREAT REPUBLIC: IT IS A FIELD
AVHITE FOR THE HARVEST.

OF THE ALLEGHENIES. [April,

THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES.

BY K. HART.

NE hundred years ago, on the nineteenth of March,
a young man, heir to a princely title and fortune
in the Old World, voluntarily resigned the pomp
and magnificence of his position, and in the
small settlement of Baltimore, Maryland, was
ordained by Bishop John Carroll to the priesthood of the
Roman Catholic Church.

It was well for this youthful enthusiast that he could not
foresee the thorny paths his feet were thenceforth to tread, the
long years of utter isolation from congenial society, and the
consuming heimweh for familiar faces and places that he was
never again to behold. Happy for him that "thorn and flower
were shadowed by each passing hour " ; else perchance heart
had failed him at the outset of his career, and the Apostle of
the Alleghenies had never been.

Mr. Augustine Schmet or Smith, otherwise Prince Demetrius
Augustine Gallitzin, came of a long line of illustrious ancestors
men mighty in battle and statesmanship. The first of the name
was a Lithuanian warrior, surnamed Goliza or Galiza because of
the rough, hairy mittens he wore, made from the skins of ani-
mals slain in his forays.

Centuries later a descendant of his, Prince Galiza, was cap-
tured in a desperate charge against the King of Poland, impri-
soned thirty-eight years, and finally liberated in 1552 by Sigis-
mund II. of Poland.

An illustrious chieftain, Prince Vasilli Gallitzin, as the name
had come to be, boyar or commander of the Cossacks and
prime minister to the Regent Sophia, was born during the reign
of Czar Michael, the first of the Romanoff dynasty. This prince
was a vindictive and powerful enemy of the Turks and Tartars,
waging constant and successful warfare against them.

Another Gallitzin, a prominent personage at the battle of
Pultowa, and afterwards governor of St. Petersburg and Fin-
land, was made field-marshal by Catherine I.

The first Gallitzin to confess the Roman Catholic, faith was a
prince in the time of the despotic and unprincipled Empress

1895.] THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES. 95

Anna. During an unusually severe Russian winter the cele-
brated Ice Palace was built for the amusement of the empress
and her court, and a farcical wedding ceremony performed. As
punishment for his desertion of the Greek faith, the unfortunate
prince was forced to personate the bridegroom, and with his
bride was imprisoned in the Ice Palace and frozen to death.

Prince Dmitri Alexeievitch -Gallitzin, diplomat, Russian
minister to Paris, and an intimate friend of Diderot and Vol-
taire, married in 1768 Amalia, the beautiful and accomplished
daughter of Field-marshal Von Schmettau, and sister of General
Von Schmettau of the Prussian army. Shortly after this event.
Prince Gallitzin was appointed minister plenipotentiary to Hol-
land by Catherine II., and took up his residence at The Hague
with his bride.

In that city their son Demetrius was born December 22,
1770, to high rank and untold wealth. His early surroundings
form a striking contrast to the home of his old age, a lonely
cottage in the Allegheny Mountains, and to the poor, mean
tomb where this prince of the Gallitzins sleeps.

At two years of age he was commissioned officer of the
guard by the empress, and his future career seemed assured.

The princess resigned all social pleasures, and devoted her-
self entirely to the education of the little prince and Marianne,
his elder sister. She retired with them to a secluded country
residence near The Hague, naming it Nithuys (Not at Home),
indicating her desire for freedom from interruptions. In her
son's ninth year she removed to the quaint old University City
of Miinster, engaged competent tutors for the children, travelled
with them during vacations, and later sent Demetrius to a mili-
tary school, to prepare him for his future position in the Rus-
sian army.

He was a reserved, timid child, easily influenced, and appar-
ently without will or energy. This disposition was a great trial
to the princess, herself of decided opinions and strong character,
and there was little sympathy or confidence between mother
and son, to her life-long regret.

The prince and princess had no decided religious tendencies,
and the children were not influenced toward any particular
creed. It was tacitly understood that Demetrius, by birthright
a member of the Greek Church, would conform to the custom
of his ancestors and profess that faith at his majority. But
influenced by the example of his mother, who after a severe
illness joined the Roman Catholic Church in 1786, he was con-

g6 THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES. [April,

firmed in the year following, taking the name of Augustine at
his mother's request. He then expressed a desire to become a
priest, but was immediately and decidedly opposed by his parents.

In 1792 he was aide-de-camp to General Von Lillien of the
Austrian army, but was dismissed from service, with all foreign-
ers, directly after the sudden death of the Emperor Leopold, and
the assassination of the King o*f Sweden acts attributed to the
Jacobins.

The disturbed condition of Europe, consequent upon the
French Revolution, made the customary continental tour for the
completion of a nobleman's education impossible for the young
prince, and it was decided that he should travel in America
before fulfilling his commission in the Russian army.

A travelling companion was found in a young priest, Felix
Brosius, who had been prepared for missionary labor in the
New World. They sailed together from Rotterdam August 18,
arriving at Baltimore October 28, 1792, with letters of introduc-
tion to Bishop John Carroll.

Baltimore was the See City of the Roman Catholic diocese
in the United States ; its first bishop was John Carroll of
Maryland, appointed in 1789. The diocese included all States
east of the Mississippi, excepting Florida, and nurnbered about
thirty thousand souls. In November, 1791, the first synod was
convened in Baltimore, twenty-two clergymen attending.

The scarcity of priests for this immense territory was some-
what relieved by numbers of exiled clergymen from France,
among them Mr. Stephen Badin, the first priest ordained in
the United States. In 1791 the Society of St. Sulpice in
France sent Mr. Nagot, three Sulpician priests and several pro-
fessors, to Baltimore to establish a seminary for the education of
American priests.

When Prince Demetrius Augustine Gallitzin, or, as he was
known for convenience in travelling, Mr. Augustine Schmet or
Smith (from Schmettau, his mother's maiden name), reached
Baltimore and realized the jieed of reinforcements in the mis-
sionary field of labor, his desire to become a priest increased,
and he determined to take the decision of his career into his
own hands. He offered himself to Bishop Carroll as a candi-
date for the priesthood, was accepted, and entered the Sulpician
Seminary to study the constitution, laws, and geography of the
United States, preparatory to becoming a citizen. He joined
the Society of St. Sulpice February 13, 1795, while only a
deacon.

I895-]

THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES.

At that time he was in personal appearance, to quote Miss
Brownson, " rather tall, five feet nine or ten inches, with that
peculiar, reticent, dignified air giving the effect of imposing
height ; a slender, lithe, yet compact figure ; a fine, clear com-
plexion, and the handsomest dark eyes that ever glanced love
or anger, splendid, fathomless in their tenderness, flashing fire
at the slightest contradiction, full of mischief and merriment.
Masses of shining black
hair clustered around
a delicately-formed,
haughtily set head, and
a prominent aquiline
nose gave character,
force, and dignity to
his countenance. All
the brilliant parapher-
nalia of gold lace and
embroidery, military
buttons, and epaulettes
seemed to belong to
his slender figure and
dark eyes by every
right of fitness."

Small wonder that
the prince and prin-
cess were unwilling to
surrender such a son
to hard missionary la-
bor in an unknown
wilderness. They bit-
terly opposed his plans,
but finally consented
reluctantly, and on St.
Joseph's Day, 1795,
he was ordained priest.
He was the first priest to receive his entire theological education
in America, " from the first page of his theology to the mo-
ment he arose from the consecrating hands of the bishop, for
ever to bear the seal of the Lord's anointed."

His close confinement and studious 'habits at the seminary
impaired his health, and immediately after his ordination Bishop
Carroll sent him to Port Tobacco, near Lancaster, Pa., to re-
cuperate. He, was awhile assistant priest at Conewago, Pa., near
VOL. LXI. 7

DEMETRIUS AUGUSTINE GALLITZIN.

98 THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES. [April,

Gettysburg, then officiated in Baltimore, returning shortly to
the Conewago missions. In 1797 he was detailed to quell some
lively demonstrations of evil spirits in Cliptown, Va. The mani-
festations were exceedingly obstinate a'nd malevolent, and the
Rev. Mr. Schmet failed to subdue them. He returned to
Conewago, resuming his duties at the missions.

His life there was not an easy one ; his strict, unbending
ideas of right clashed continually with the ignorance and ob-
stinacy of his congregations, and he was often sick at heart and
utterly discouraged. Bishop Carroll advised conciliatory measures
and a less arbitrary management. But the prince-priest, in
whose veins ran the blood of despots, was unable to yield his
points, and after endless contentions with his parishioners was
removed, and sent in the summer of 1799 to a small settlement
five miles from the highest point of the Western Alleghenies,
and two hundred and fifty miles west of Philadelphia.

" McGuire's Settlement," in Cambria County, Pa., consisted
of a few Roman Catholic families ; it was originally settled by
Captain McGuire, who gave a considerable number of acres for
church property and use.

On this land Prince Demetrius Augustine, now an humble
priest, built with his own hands, assisted .by the rough moun-
taineers, a log hut for himself, fourteen by sixteen feet, " with a
little kitchen and a stable " a princely dwelling for the heir of
the Gallitzins and a church forty-four feet long and twenty-five
feet wide, of white pine logs, with shingled roof.

The church was completed for Midnight Mass on Christmas
Eve, 1799, "the only House of God from Lancaster to St.
Louis, and the first chapel in what now comprises the three
dioceses of Pittsburgh, Allegheny, and Erie." It was beautifully
decorated with pine and hemlock from the surrounding forests,
and illuminated with candles made by the women of the settle-
ment. A strange sight, the gently-reared prince-priest intoning
the Mass with full ceremonial in that rude hut amidst the
nearly unbroken forest, his congregation the rough pioneers of
the mountains!

The prince, or Father Smith as he was called, purchased
considerable property in the settlement ; this he divided into
small farms and sold at nominal prices to Irish, Swiss, and Ger-
man immigrants. The settlement grew rapidly, and Prince
Demetrius Augustine Gallitzin, the apostle of the backwoods
of Pennsylvania, settled down to his life-work among the lonely
mountains.

I895-]

THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES.

In 1802 he became a naturalized American citizen, taking
the name of Augustine Smith, and retaining it until 1809; he
then applied to the Legislature for permission to resume the
family name ; an act authorizing him to do so was passed De-
cember 15, 1809.

Prince Dmitri Gallitzin died in March, 1803. As Demetrius
Augustine had forfeited his inheritance by leaving his regiment
without the czar's permission and by becoming a priest (priests
being disqualified by Russian law from holding property), the
vast property fell to Princess Amalia. The Russian estates were

THE CHURCH (A. D. 1817), CHAPEL, AND RESIDENCE OF FATHER GALLITZIN, LORETTO, PA.

seized by the heir to the title in lieu of Demetrius Augustine.
By advice the prince brought suit in the Russian courts through
his agents, hoping that his inability to inherit might be set
aside. Confident of success, he extended his purchases of land,
cleared a large tract and sold it at nominal prices to the poor,
naming the hamlet Loretto, and built a larger cabin for himself
of hewn logs, and a grist-mill. It was his ambition to found a
little colony in which to work, as it were, upon virgin soil.

His mother continued and increased her remittances to him
until financial disturbances in Europe consequent upon Napo-
leon's actions, and depressions in value of the Gallitzin estates,

ioo THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES. [April,

rendered them infrequent and unreliable ; they finally ceased
altogether. After the death of Princess Amalia, in April, 1806,
a small sum was sent to him with promises of more.

The Russian lawsuit was decided in favor of Princess Mari-
anne, the sister of Father Gallitzin ; she became sole heiress of
the immense estate, part of which she proposed selling and
sharing the proceeds with her brother.

Meanwhile he had incurred heavy expenses, expecting to de-
fray them with the legacies from his mother ; unfortunately
these never reached him, and he was greatly embarrassed for
funds and harassed by creditors. Bishop Carroll advanced sums
of money frequently to relieve these difficulties ; with these
Father Gallitzin paid his debts, built mills and tanneries, and in
1817 a frame church, the largest and finest yet seen in that part
of the country, the foundation of which still remains. In this
church there were no pews or benches, merely a few stools for
the aged parishioners. The men stood on one side, the women
on the other, and the little children clustered around the altar
railing. On entering, the women were obliged to take off their
bonnets and tie handkerchiefs over their heads, to " avoid occa-
sion for display." It was Father Gallitzin's custom to walk
twice around the building before commencing the service, to
waylay stragglers ; and woe to those unlucky wights who thought
to escape "his look of fire, his voice of thunder, and will of
iron."

Owing to the burning of Moscow in 1812 the Russian estates
were unproductive for several years, and the expected aid did
not materialize. Father Gallitzin's creditors again became im-
portunate, and scandals and dissensions prevailed among his
congregations. The colony grew rapidly, and he appealed re-
peatedly for an assistant. But Bishop Carroll was either unable
or unwilling to grant his request, perhaps realizing the difficulties
a subordinate priest would encounter under Father Gallitzin's
arbitrary supervision. A Mr. Fitzsimmons assisted him for
awhile ; then the parish priest of Loretto was again alone in his
rapidly spreading parish, extending some seventy miles.

At length succor arrived from Europe. Princess Marianne
sold some property and sent ten thousand dollars to him.
William I. purchased a valuable collection of Greek and Roman
antiquities from the Gallitzin family, stipulating that the pro-
ceeds should be sent to his former friend and playmate, now an
humble priest ; and better days seemed dawning for the Loretto
colony.

i8 9 5.]

THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES.

101

The fine library now in the " Priest's House " at Loretto
was acquired about this time, and some paintings by old Ger-
man masters were sent from Europe; one, "The Adoration of
the Magi," now hangs over the altar in St. Mary's Chapel,
Loretto.

In his few leisure hours Father Gallitzin sustained a religious
controversy with a Protestant opponent. These justly cele-
brated Letters on the Scriptures, first published in newspapers,
were afterwards collected and issued in pamphlet form. His
witty and logical Defence of Catholic Principles is considered equal
if not superior to Bossuet's Exposition.

TOMB OF FATHER GALLITZIN, LORETTO, PA.

Through the division of the diocese of Baltimore in 1808,
containing eighty churches and sixty-eight priests, Bishop Egan
of Philadelphia became Father Gallitzin's superior. He was
appointed vicar-general of Western Pennsylvania, and was
offered bishoprics several times, but declined, preferring mission
work at Loretto and vicinity. Bishop Carroll was made Arch-
bishop of Baltimore, and died there December 3, 1815.

The unexpected marriage of Princess Marianne Gallitzin in
1817, at the age of forty-three, with a dissolute nobleman, and
her death soon afterwards, deprived Father Gallitzin of her

102 THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES. [April,

assistance. Her will, suspected of being false, left all her pro-
perty to her husband, thus depriving the priest of his long-
cherished hopes. He was advised to contest the will, but was
unable or unwilling to incur the expense of a European trip.

Burdened with a heavy debt, which after fifteen years of
weary waiting he was utterly without means of liquidating ;
beset by urgent creditors and harassed by dissensions in his
congregations, the sorely-tried man sank beneath this accumula-
tion of troubles. Sad, lonely, disappointed, destitute of con-
genial friends and sympathy, he succumbed to a severe illness.
In his dire distress and need the tide of popular opinion turned
in his favor, and his people remorsefully flocked to his assist-
ance, contributing funds to save his home from sheriff's sale.
An unknown friend paid a large debt for him, and the Loretto
colony, for which he had spent sums amounting to $150,000 of
his own money, was saved from dissolution.

He recovered slowly, with the loss of much energy and
ambition. He gradually resigned outlying missions to a younger
priest, and for several years was relieved from arduous duties ;
then the removal of the priest relegated them again to him.

In 1830 he resigned his title of vicar-general on account of
differing in opinion from his bishop, retaining the labor and re-
sponsibilities of the position.

Gradually, as he was forced by failing strength and advancing
age to give up various missions, a band of assistants formed
around him young priests who relieved him of burdensome
duties. Small settlements branching from Loretto sprang up
St. Augustine, Carrolltown, Gallitzin, Summit, etc. These sub-
divisions of his immense parish gave him more leisure for
literary work ; his style is trenchant and sarcastic, at times
witty.

In the winter of 1839 he began to fail perceptibly; the
rigors of his life told upon his never robust constitution, the
venerable Apostle of the Alleghenies was nearing the end of
his labors. He refused to omit his Lenten duties in 1840^
and towards the close of Holy Week his overtaxed strength
rapidly failed. On Easter Sunday he celebrated Mass for the
last time ; the last words of his priestly office to his people
were, " It is consummated." In Miss Brownson's words :

" He lay quietly resting until the evening of May 6, 1840.
When the hour came for the laborers to go home they saw
that he was going too. The prayers for the dying were read,
the doors were opened, and the crowds in the house and chapel

1895.] THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES.

103

prayed with tears and sobs. In a few minutes all was over ;
the heavens were opened, and all their joy-bells were ringing a
welcoming peal."

The funeral of Father Gallitzin took place on May 9,
attended by people from all parts of his extensive parish. A
procession formed at his residence, and in impressive silence
bore him through the paths he had so often wearily trod to
the church, thence to the " First Cemetery of the Alleghenies."

In 1847 nis remains were removed to a vault at the church
entrance, and a monument of rough blocks of mountain stone
erected, bearing this inscription :

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF
PRINCE DEMETRIUS AUGUSTINE GALLITZIN.

BORN DECEMBER 22, 1770.

WHO, HAVING RENOUNCED SCHISM,

WAS RAISED TO THE PRIESTHOOD,

EXERCISED THE SACRED MINISTRY THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE OF THIS

REGION,

AND, DISTINGUISHED FOR FAITH, ZEAL, AND CHARITY,
DIED MAY 6, 1840.

His property, consisting of real estate in Loretto, was be-
queathed, after his debts and funeral expenses were paid, to

THE FIRST CEMETERY IN THE ALLEGHENIES.

the Bishop of Western Pennsylvania in trust for the clergy of
Loretto. He desired that some lots be reserved for a new
church edifice ; this, the present St. Michael's, was erected in
1852. In the same year the Franciscan monastery, on a neigh-

iO4 THE APOSTLE OF THE ALLEGHENIES. [April,

boring hill, became an incorporated college, the corner-stone
having been laid in 1848.

Adjoining the church is a fine, large boarding-school con-
ducted by the Sisters of Mercy, containing an exquisite
chapel ; over the chapel entrance is the appropriate text : " The
Master is come, and calleth for thee."

Loretto is beautifully situated on the side of a typical
Allegheny mountain soft rolling curves gently sloping away
into lovely, fertile valleys. The main street is replete with
objects of interest connected with the devoted priest, to whose
labor and love the town owes its existence, from the ancient
cemetery with its once regnant, now sadly mutilated image of
the Virgin, to the curious old shop bearing the quaint, sugges-
tive sign :

"OMNIFARIOUS STORE.
ESTABLISHED 1837."

The central figure in these associations is the ungainly
monument at the entrance to St. Michael's Church. There is a
movement on foot under the furtherance of the present parish
priest, Rev. Ferdinand Kittell, to replace it with a memorial
worthier of the saintly relics beneath. It is exceedingly desira-
ble that this project should materialize without delay, as wind
and weather have played sad havoc with the rude resting-place
of the Prince-Priest of Loretto.

:8 9 5-]

THE NEW SPRING.

105

THE NEW SPRING.

BY DANIEL SPILLANE.

PRING is in the air, and the old sun is
Rising in th' infinity of space
To shed new summer rays ; our dearth has won
His sympathy, for he has seen the face
The bleakness of our world side, the dun
And loneliness and conscience has begun
To prickle in his heart. So he will hie
Full soon to bear those mystic tints yet none
Of dark unto the landscape's breast, and joy
Will spread o'er nature everywhere. But by
A law supreme in nature's mystery,
Our summer flowers, their em'rald hues, the coy
And fragile forest joys, are loaned us, be
It not forgot, and in due time shall flee
Again back to the counter-side of earth
From whence the sun now bears them stealthily ;
And when within his heart he brings the mirth,
The gladness of new light, when our desert
Of budding spring has set in sunshine's glow
O'er earth around, let us be-learn a pert
Yet subtle truth, that as the seasons go,
And change to stern opposites of light
Of light and dark ; of cold and heat yet so
It's truly ever with the joy and woe,
The contrasts of our lives ; for sure as night
Has day, and surely as the winter's blight
Swift flies before the spring, there yet is balm
For wounded hearts somewhere ; so sorrow's fright
And wintry sighs of care before the palm
And flowers of that new spring shall go, and calm
Shall reign, and life be as a holy psalm.

io6 PERSONAL HONESTY IN Civic REFORM. [April,

PERSONAL HONESTY IN CIVIC REFORM.

i ..

E cannot fail noticing that the tendency of the day-
is to- attempt the cure of civic ills by legal enact-
ment. Whenever an abuse of the governing
power is discovered, a new law is proposed ;
whenever a good enough statute is practically
made inoperative by lax or corrupt officials, a supposedly more
virile law is suggested. New laws and changes of old laws are
coming to the fore asking for enactment with such avidity that
one must wonder how or by what means we have hitherto main-
tained social order. But we are passing through a period of
change, and our chrysalis condition begets excitement, and we
may or may not develop civic perfection.

We have not wholly recovered from the painful ordeal of
last fall, and the period of calm and deliberate judgment has
not fairly begun. A mass of unutterable official filth has been
laid bare ; and the track of the corruptionist has been found in
the high as well as the low places. We can stomach many and
various offences, but we were not prepared for such widespread
official degradation and civic dishonor.

The period of unrest is upon us, and we must be up and
doing, and this seems to be proposing laws. We are going to
make officials honest and keep them honest all by law. States-
men, committees, and numerous reformers of honest and good
purpose, all seem to agree that there must be a new law for
this or that particular bureau of government ; and they differ only
in the kind, quality, or degree of the new legislation. Some de-
mand a radically new measure ; others are satisfied with a change
of name. And yet when this new legislation is at last delivered
to our municipal care, may it not become ineffectual ? While
the machinists may have in it an atom of the old guile of Adam,
and the honest reformers may have blessed it with the full leaven
of civic virtue, it must finally be administered by officials and
mere men.

It will be admitted by all fair observers of our local method
of government that our present laws are reasonably wise, mod-
erate, and effectual, when honestly applied. Our difficulty has
been rather with the officials charged with the administration of
law. A system of official dishonesty has grown up which of

1 895.] PERSONAL HONESTY IN Civic REFORM. 107

necessity compels an officer to be either personally dishonest
or to wink at another's backsliding.

It is difficult to see how new legislation will permanently
rid us of this evil. More checks may be placed on official mis-
conduct, or mayhap a new registering machine against official
dishonesty may be devised. But after we have concluded our
blessed business of reforming, and returned to our regular voca-
tions, we will be compelled to leave the officials to wrestle alone
with the new methods. Then will occur the test; and if offi-
cials be dishonest, we can expect to see evasion of law and
connivance at wrong resumed with absolute certainty, for we
know that humanity is prone to sin.

Then it will more clearly appear that the remedy is in
changing men and not measures ; in making it difficult for dis-
honest men to attain public office or place. The agency that most
effectually and permanently lessens dishonesty and thereby
increases general honesty is, after all, that of the church.

The recent public utterances of Leo XIII., approving partici-
pation by Catholics in public efforts for the common good, here
become exceedingly pertinent. They promise the help of the
church in that general instruction to the people on what is
honest, as applied particularly to our duties as citizens, in
impressing upon us the special duty and care of properly exer-
cising our rights as citizens. The antagonism of the church to
the saloon is one practical way of advancing civic reform ; and
if it were not for the secret and unlawful aid of dishonest
officials the saloon would be less in public view than it now is.
Saloon politics are as incompatible with honest civic reform as
with the church. Party interference with municipal affairs is,
next to the saloon, the most serious obstacle to better govern-
ment. Many intelligent men think that a candidate for public
place or trust must be selected because of the badge he wears,
and not because of his fitness or honesty. When we elect men
to local office on the badge system we next have the spoils
system ; and then we have reached the most pregnant source of
official dishonesty. If this or that society of badge-wearers can-
not survive when taken from the public crib, its power for pub-
lic good must needs be miserably limited. Party government
may or may not be a great public blessing ; but when its
vitality is made to depend on its chances to fill local offices, it
then takes on the character of the Hessian troops. And when
we go into politics for the money there is to be got, we then fit
ourselves for a reign of official as well as personal dishonesty.

loS MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS [April,

MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS IN ; THE
GREAT LONE LAND."

BY E. S. COLCLEUGH.

N the opening chapter of Parkman's Jesuits in North
America he pictures the modest chapel surmount-
ing the natural ramparts at Quebec, and the leaky,
dilapidated " residence of Notre-Dame des An-
ges," on the St. Charles.

Here, in 1634, dwelt six priests and two lay brothers. "This,"
he says, " was the cradle of the great mission of New France."
Here was nourished the germ of a great enterprise ; here sallied
forth the advance guard of a vast army. From that early day
to this the French Catholics of America have been found far on
the frontier attesting the earnestness of their faith and the in-
tensity of their devotion by lives of rigorous self-denial.

They faltered not as they penetrated pathless wilds inhabited
by savage beasts and still more savage men. Though cold, hun-
ger, isolation, and hardships of all kinds met them, they knew
no such word as fail. Giving up all ambitions save the one,
they faced the possibility the almost certain probability of a
lonely death far from all they had held dear; but when one fell
a martyr to his devotion, recruits were not wanting, eager and
ready to fill his place.

Up the wild Ottawa, across lonely Lake Nipissing, amongst
the thousand isles of Huron, and beneath the pictured rocks
which border the " Big Sea Water " they pushed their way in
those early days. Side by side with the fur-traders, the gay,
rollicking voyageurs, they penetrated the wilderness about Hud-
son Bay and shared the isolation of the frontier outposts at
York Factory and Norway House.

Some, crossing tempestuous Lake Winnipeg, took their wind-
ing way up Red River to lift up the cross beside the lodges of
wild Assiniboines, and to establish at St. Boniface a mission
which has become an ecclesiastical centre from which radiate
missions extending throughout the entire North-west. Others
stemmed the swift waters of the Saskatchewan and wandered far
into the very heart of the " Great Lone Land."

At isolated Isle a la Crosse, lonely Chipewyan, and on the

1895.] 1N " THE GREAT LONE LAND"

109

shores of the Arctic-rolling Mackenzie, their successors to-day
are found, tirelessly laboring among the dusky aborigines.

Within the past six years it has been my fortune to traverse
many almost unbeaten tracks in British America, and I have
come in contact with many, of these self-exiled men and women.
While I shall not enlarge upon their work enough to give facts
and figures, I cannot resist the temptation to pay a passing
tribute to their heroism, devotion, and self-denial.

I recall one a frail, delicate-looking priest, Pere Bonauld
whom I met in 1888 on the Saskatchewan. At that time no
railway had penetrated the country, and the river furnished the
only highway into the wide-reaching valley of the North Saskat-
chewan. The canoes of the natives, and long brigades of York
boats, were for long years the only means of transportation.
Then came a time when the Hudson Bay Company called in
the aid of steam, and occasional steamers ran between the Grand
Rapids, near the river's mouth, and Edmonton a thousand miles
away by the sinuous course they were obliged to follow.

Upon one of these chance steamers I had found my way to
the little mission and Hudson Bay Post, whose Cree name,
" Oopaskwayow," had been beheaded and gradually curtailed,
until " The Pas " was all that was left.

At " The Pas " my attention was attracted by a figure whose
dress at once betokened the priest. About him were gathered
an excited group of natives, each eager for a word, and all
evincing marks of affection unusual in their apathetic race. In-
quiring the cause, I was told he had particularly endeared him-
self to them during a fearful epidemic which had visited the
locality a few months before. Within the limited radius of a
mile or two sixty-two lay dead at one time. Terror was uni-
versal ; fear kept many away, but, forgetting self, tireless in his
devotion, this pale priest worked on, ministering to the sick,
baptizing the dying, and comfortjng the bereaved. Day after
day, and night after night, he had no rest until the eleventh
day, when he fell fainting from exhaustion. The pestilence, how-
ever, was already waning, and the thankful Indians who nursed
him back to life were reluctant to have him depart. But in the
frontier missions the jurisdiction of a priest extends over a wide
area, and the time had come when he must leave for new fields.

By frequent conversations during the few days we were fel-
low-passengers on the steamer I learned that he had left France
fourteen years before. His round of duties had kept him a part
of the time at Cumberland House, a part at "The Pas," but

1 10

MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS

[April

the greater portion up on the Churchill River. All his jour-
neys had been made either by canoe or dog-train, and this was
the first time he had set foot upon a steamer since coming from
France. His delight at being once more in civilized society, and
his interest in his work, made him an exceedingly interesting
fellow-voyager. When we reached Cumberland House he took
me to his little church, there calling attention to the altar-rails
a marvel of carving, which, as he expressed it, " were cut out
with one leetle small knife," by his predecessor.

The impression gained during that summer's trip has been

BISHOP GROUARD.

deepened since by stories I have heard of kindness shown to sick
travellers (Protestants) by the sisters at Isle a la Crosse, by the
work I have seen at St. Albert, and more particularly by the
knowledge gained during a journey made last summer into the
far North-west.

One bright Sunday morning, July i, I met Monsignor fimile
Grouard, O.M.I., Bishop of Athabaska-Mackenzie, on the little
steamer Wrigley, and for two entire months our routes were the
same. The Wrigley carries supplies to the Hudson Bay posts

1895.] IN " THE GREAT LONE LAND.

on Great Slave Lake and the Mackenzie River, making one
trip in the season to Fort McPherson, the most northern fort
occupied by the company. At almost every post there is a mis-
sion, for as one writer expressed it " the converting and bar-
tering nomads have ever gone hand-in-hand."

Starting from Fort Smith, just below the long stretch of
unnavigable rapids on the Slave River, our first stop was at
Fort Resolution on Great Slave Lake. We arrived at about
two in the morning, but his lordship was on the alert. Scarcely
had the anchor fallen when he was off, holding service and
visiting the sick. He only caught the steamer by a hard pull
of three miles across a bay where we were wooding up.

From Fort Resolution to Fort Rae is a run of about four-
teen hours, across the great lonely inland sea, from whose shores
the " Barren Grounds " the home of the musk-ox are reached.
Fort Rae occupies a little peninsula at the extreme limit of the
long arm reaching north from the lake. The little cluster of
buildings occupied by the Hudson Bay Company, another
cluster whose gleaming cross and flag of St. Michael points out
the mission, these, with the aboriginal tepees in the foreground ,
make up this desolate little outpost. I visited the bare, scantily-
furnished house occupied by the father in charge, and was
received by Bishop Grouard, who made up in graceful courtesy
all that the place lacked in chairs. From the bishop I learned
that there are about eight hundred Dog-Rib Indians about there.
I asked why they were thus named, and he said aboriginal
legends pointed to a dog as the tribal ancestor. " Thus," he
continued, with a funny little twinkle in his eye, " these untu-
tored savages are approaching civilization, and perhaps claiming
priority, for, long before Darwin came forth with his monkey
theory, this tradition was handed down from father to son."

We had reached the post at midnight ; at eight sharp the
next morning the whistle called us hurriedly on board and again
the Wrigley was off. Doubling upon our track, we reached the
wide lake, and threading our way between two large fields of
ice, and dodging innumerable tiny icebergs, sailed out of sight
of land with our prow set towards the outlet of the lake, the
great Mackenzie River. To attempt even the briefest descrip-
tion of our journey from the source of this mighty stream to its
delta would prolong this paper indefinitely. My purpose is to
give but a passing glance at the principal missions. We reached
Fort Providence the evening of the second day after leaving
Fort Rae. We could tell as soon as we caught sight of the

112

MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS

[April,

post that the steamer had been sighted. Flags were hastily run
up, canoes quickly manned to run out to meet us, a few strag-
gling Indians at the crest of the hill grew into a crowd, which,
as we neared the landing, pressed close to the water's edge,
almost into it. This is one of the few places where a landing
can be made without the aid of yawls. The bishop, the first to
cross the gang-plank, was met by the priest and a whole flock

LEGENDS POINTED TO A DOG AS THE TRIBAL ANCESTOR.

of dusky followers, who fairly blocked up the way in their eager
ness to kiss his lordship's ring and receive his blessing.

The first greetings over, the crowd surged up the hill-side
and we followed. Our reception by the sweet-faced sisters who
have charge of the school was almost as cordial. So seldom do
they have visitors " from outside," as they say, that one is sure
of a hearty greeting. When they found I knew Montreal, their
old home well, I received a double welcome. The school num
bered twenty-three girls and ten boys. I was shown all over
the building, and its scrupulous neatness spoke well for the
training the girls are getting. Besides this school there is a

THE SWEET-FACED SISTERS WHO HAVE CHARGE OF THE SCHOOL.
VOL. LXI. 8

ii4 MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS [April.

tiny church, and the priest's residence, which he shares with four
" brothers." As the little ones were ranged outside to receive
the bishop I caught two or three snap-shots with my kodak.
The pictures thus obtained I shall long cherish in memory of a
pleasant but too brief visit.

There is a mission at Fort Simpson, but as Simpson is head-
quarters for the whole Mackenzie district of the Hudson Bay
Company, I found so much in other lines claiming my attention
that I failed to visit it. At Fort Norman, one hundred and
fifty-eight miles from the Arctic Circle, the building occupied is
very unpretending, but I had an opportunity to photograph
what they proudly point to as " the oldest bell in the North."

Fort Good Hope is on the east side of the river, but four-
teen miles from the frigid zone. This post has had a varied
career " no permanent abiding place," one might say. The old
Fort Good Hope was one hundred and twenty miles further
down the river, then it was removed to upper Manitou Island.
A flood in 1836 swept it entirely away from that site and it
was rebuilt on the present one. In spite of all they kept the
name, and I suppose think they have good hope that their
migrations are ended.

The mission here is very flourishing ; Madame Gaudet, the
wife of the keeper of the post, being a most devout Catholic
and doing much to aid the church. I called upon the vener-
able father in charge. He and a little Irish " brother," who
accompanied him when he went into the country, have spent the
last thirty-four years at this mission. The " brother " showed
me, with great pride, his fine potato-patch, and the young
priest who assists (I failed to catch his name) showed me about
the grounds, and took me into the church, which is really the show-
church of all the North-west. It would be a credit to any con-
gregation. It is well finished and furnished, as is the father's
residence. I could get pictures of these buildings, but no small
photograph could do justice to the beautiful wild roses, perfect
thickets of sweet bloom, which were about us on every hand.
All through the North, even at my furthest point, these dear
little reminders of home blossomed with a luxuriance I never
saw equalled elsewhere, and at Fort Good Hope there was
promise of an abundance of gooseberries and raspberries. The
sun, which we hardly lost sight of during the twenty-four hours,
forced vegetation most rapidly in spite of the high latitude.

Red River enters the Mackenzie about twenty miles above
Point Separation, the beginning of the delta of the Mackenzie.

THE MISSION AT FORT NORMAN "THE OLDEST BELL IN THE NORTH.

n6 MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS [April,

At the confluence of the two streams the Loncheaux Indians
have a little church, two or three houses high on the hill, the
cross uplifted in the midst, and on a green slope below little
wooden palings mark the last resting-places of their dead. At
the time we passed, about two hundred and forty Loncheaux
had their summer lodges on the little bench below the hill.
Two " bands," as they express it, meet here because it is excel-
lent fishing-ground.

Bishop Grouard had expected to have a steamer of his own
last summer, but was disappointed. The priest from Fort
McPherson had come to the Red River encampment, partly in
pursuance of his parish duties if we can apply the term parish
to so wide an area and partly to meet the bishop. As we
neared the encampment the whistle sounded, and it met with the
usual response of yells from both natives and dogs ; but when
Bishop Grouard showed himself on the deck, a running salute of
guns was fired in reckless disregard of the extravagant expendi-
ture of ammunition. The whole place seemed literally to swarm
with people. Canoes by scores put out, and in a short time we
bade fair to have all the crowd on board. Their designs in
this direction- were only frustrated by the captain, who ordered
the ladder taken in as soon as the priest had come on board.
He brought with him one of the most forlorn-looking little
waifs I ever beheld : a little orphan girl about six years old,
clad only in a single garment of deer-skin, filthy beyond de-
scription and so ragged that I wondered it did not drop off.

Scarcely was the excitement of this stop allayed when we
began to meet the " oomiaks " and " kyacks " of the Esqui-
maux, and we needed not to be told we were nearing the
Arctic Sea.

Peel River enters the great river a few miles below Point
Separation, and Fort McPherson, our last post, is about forty
miles up that tributary. It was midnight, although as light as
ever, when we arrived ; but a drizzling rain and the fact that we
had to anchor far out in the stream prevented me from going
ashore that night ; but, as usual, the bishop was up and off,
taking the priest and his wild little aborigine with him. Hunt-
ing for "Husky" curios, visiting their lodges, and attempting to
cram my note-book with all the stories and legends I could
gather, filled the two days we remained. I did not see the bishop
until we were ready to weigh anchor ; then he appeared with
the little Loncheaux so changed that I could hardly believe it
was the same child. Where he had procured an entire child's

1895.] IN " THE GREAT LONE LAND." \\j

outfit I cannot tell, but there she was, all ready to be handed
over to the sisters at Fort Providence.

Our return journey included the same stops we made going
north, and the days went on full of novelty and interest,
whether we were stopping at the call of some natives, who are
always on the alert to embrace the one opportunity they have
in the year to beg for tea and tobacco, steaming beneath the
frowning walls known as " The Ramparts," looking out at the
beautiful Nahanie mountains, or gathering the big bales of rich
furs at each fort.

Each Sunday the bishop held service on the forward deck,
and each morning and evening saw him apart from the rest
engaged in his religious meditations.

At Fort Smith we bade "good by" to the little Wrigley
that had been our home for a month. A portage of sixteen
miles in an ox-cart took what was left of us to Smith
Landing, where we met the Grahame, a stern-wheel steamer
which navigates the upper Slave and the lower Athabaska
rivers.

We sailed from Smith Landing at four in the morning, but
it was not so early but service had been holden, and as the
whistle sounded the starting signal all the congregation trooped
down to the water's edge to hear the last words of benediction.

About two days' run from the landing is old Fort Chipe-
wyan, on the western shore of Lake Athabaska.

Much might be written of this old post where Mackenzie,
Rae, Back, Franklin, Simpson, and Richardson rested ere they
took their adventurous and hazardous wanderings still farther
into the trackless wilderness ; that, however, would require an
article devoted solely to Chipewyan. We centre our present
interest in the little mission-village which, about a mile from the
fort, follows the curving shore beneath the shadow of a rock
promontory. Here the bishop has his headquarters, a church,
and a school of forty children. I visited the school and
dormitories. A set of shelves attracted my attention in the
entrance hall as I noted the forty pairs of quaint wooden shoes
the little ones clatter about the rocks with, but put one side as
they enter the immaculate buildings. The children sing and
recite beautifully, although I could spend but little time. The
bishop himself took me into the church, whose chancel decora-
tions were his own work. Three central panels represent
Christ with St. John on one side and the Blessed Virgin on the
other. The left side has also three figures, "Our father Adam

n8 MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS [April,

and the serpent and fig-leaves," as my cicerone explained ; " Our
father Abraham " and " Moses." The other side is " St. John
the Baptist," " St. Joseph," " St. Peter, with the key." Painted
upon the boards as they are, they exhibit much talent. " Could
have done better on canvas, but the boards," with his little,
expressive shrug, "they are here."

A fine garden, redeemed from the combination of rock and
bog, is pointed out to every visitor, and a field whereon was
grown the wheat which took a prize at the Centennial Exposi-
tion at Philadelphia. A saw-mill is in operation, and close by
a little steamer built by the " Brothers " awaits completion.

I expected the bishop would remain at home for a little rest,
for he had been journeying about a month in an open boat be-
fore I met him at Fort Smith, but the necessity of procuring
supplies called him to Edmonton. When the Grahame was ready
to leave Chipewyan, we saw two brothers rowing his skiff
rapidly across the little bay, and again we welcomed his cheery
face.

Although it is not a long run from Lake Athabaska to Fort
McMurray, at the junction of the Clearwater and Athabaska
rivers, it took us about five days. Stopping to cut hay for the
oxen we were transporting from Smith Portage to their winter
quarters at McMurray, to chop wood for the steamer's supply,
and logs to be rafted to Chipewyan to repair the Grahame,
made little detentions hardly looked for in these days of rapid
transit, but we were far beyond all that. This we decidedly
realized when, at Fort McMurray, we left the steamer and took
open boats, for more than a hundred miles, against swift mad-
dened waters. This stage of the journey is only accomplished
by what they call "tracking." Of the crew of ten men but two,
the bowsman and the steersman, remained on board ; the others
walked along the river-bank, seven dragging the boat by a long
line, the eighth or " end-man " walking behind to clear the rope
from fallen trees, sharp points of rock, and other obstructions.
For thirteen days we thus toiled up stream by day, and camped
on shore at night, resting over Sunday on some forest hill-side.
At morning and evening each Sunday the bishop would appear
in the midst of the group of bronzed voyageurs with a pleasant :
" Well, boys, you are not busy now ; don't you think we'd better
have prayers ? " A little later, by ringing a hand-bell, he sum-
moned them to the open space before his tent, where, clad in
his scarlet and white vestments, he stood by a little portable
altar in God's own temple, the vaulted sky for a roof, grand

i8 9 5.]

IN " THE GREA r LONE LAND

119

forest trees for pillars, and the whisper of the pines and the sound
of onward-rushing waters the only accompaniment to the strong,
sweet voices of those hardy sons of the wilderness. The bishop
and the kneeling group before him made the foreground of a
picture whose details I find entered in my note-book : " It is a
strange Sunday. One I shall scarcely forget. A bend in the
river above and below shuts off the view, making it seem as if
we were on the shores of a lake. Four white tents climb the
hill-side the poles of the bowsmen clustered tepee fashion, cov-

HERE THE BISHOP HAS HIS HEADQUARTERS.

ered with blankets, have been utilized as a shelter. At the top
of this structure a pair of pantaloons swinging to and fro bears
witness to some one's attempt at laundry work ; mosquito-nets
and all sorts of queer shelters in all sorts of colors ; a dozen
camp-fires crackling in the forest stillness, their flames sending
keen red lights into the shadowy aisles of the wilderness. Be-
fore us, the brigade of boats covered with tarpaulins, and
looking, for all the world, like funeral barges. Behind us, far
above the tents, gleaming through the pines, and making the

120 MISSIONS AND MISSION-WORKERS. [ApriL

poplars cast checkered shadows on the white canvas, peeps out
the sinking sun, which has been hidden all day. Below us r
where the river bends, the hill-side bare and desolate, save
the skeleton trunks of numberless trees whose life and verdure
were scorched out by some sweeping forest-fire, so -recent that
nature has not covered its ravages with her mantle of green.
Across the river, moss-bearded, ancient firs crowd close to the
water's edge, and the white caps of a rapid toss showers of spray
almost into the shadowy recesses. A little further off the soil
has been cut away, and the sun gleams on a yellow bank where
great boulders stand out here and there, but never a vestige of
green ; then up, up, still up, to where their arrow-points stand,,
clear-cut against the sky-line, climb the firs. The cloud-flecked
summer sky, and the picturesque group in the centre, make up a
whole long to be remembered."

At the head of Pelican Rapids we met the steamer Atkabaska r
and two days upon her took us to the end of more than four
thousand miles of inland voyaging. I had to wait two or three
days at the Hudson Bay post at Athabaska Landing before I
could obtain conveyance to Edmonton. The bishop, with his-
accustomed celerity, secured a buck-board and an Indian pony
and hurried off. The steamer's run was finished, and he had all
the return journey to make in the small boats ; therefore despatch
was essential if he reached home before frost came. Midway on
my journey to Edmonton I saw the little pony jogging along,,
and a minute later the bishop was on the ground, hat off and
hand extended to bid me adieu. There, in the solitude, our
paths diverged, he to his work on the wild shores of lonely
Athabaska, and I to plunge into the hum and bustle of the out-
side world.

ONE of the most opportune books is that just
issued in handy form entitled The Pope and the
People* It presents the most notable utterances of
the present great Pontiff on the vital questions of
the age. In his selection of these the editor, the
Rev. W. H. Eyre, S.J., has shown much discrimination. In the
course of his long and brilliant life Leo XIII. has put forth a
vast amount of literary work, and the great difficulty with any
one undertaking a selection for any special purpose must be the
bewildering mass of treasure which lies ready to his hand. But
the fact that there are just at this moment some questions press-
ing for instant treatment and solution, not only in the spiritual
sphere but in the moral and material one, furnishes a guide and
a motive to the judicious collator. Before noticing the more im-
portant of these writings it is extremely fitting that attention
should again be drawn to the singularly strong and clear state-
ment of the Pope's position on the relations of church and state,
inasmuch as in some quarters an invidious desire to distort and
misinterpret the words of the recent Encyclical to the American
Catholics is apparent. In the famous Encyclical of 1885 on
"The Christian Constitution of States" we find the following
explicit declarations and definitions :

"The Almighty, therefore, has appointed the charge of the
human race between two powers, the Ecclesiastical and the
Civil, the one being set over divine, and the other over human
things. Each in its kind is supreme, each has fixed limits with-
in which it is contained, limits which are defined by the nature
and special object of the province of each, so that there is, we
may say, an orbit traced out within which the action of each is
brought into play by its own native right. But inasmuch as
each of these two powers has authority over the same subjects,

* The Pope and the People. Select Letters and Addresses on Social Questions by His Holi-
ness, Pope Leo XIII. Edited by the Rev. W. H. Eyre, S.J.
Benziger Brothers.

New York, Cincinnati, Chicago

122 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

and as it might come to pass that one and the same thing
related differently, but still remaining one and the same thing
might belong to the jurisdiction and determination of both,
therefore God, who foresees all things, and who is the Author
of these two powers, has marked out the course of each in right
correlation to the other. For the powers that are, are ordained
of God* Were this not so, deplorable contentions and conflicts
would often arise, and not unfrequently men, like travellers at
the meeting of two roads, would hesitate in anxiety and doubt,
not knowing what course to follow. Two powers would be
commanding contrary things, and it would be a dereliction of
duty to disobey either of the two.

" But it would be most repugnant to deem thus of the wisdom
and goodness of God. Even in physical things, albeit of a
lower order, the Almighty has so combined the forces and
springs of nature with tempered action and wondrous harmony,
that no one of them clashes with any other, and all of them
most fitly and aptly work together for the great purpose of the
universe. There must, accordingly, exist between these two
powers a certain orderly connection, which may be compared
to the union of the soul and body in man. The nature and
scope of that connection can be determined only, as we have
laid down, by having regard to the nature of each power, and
by taking account of the relative excellence and nobleness of
their purpose. One of the two has for its proximate and chief
object the well-being of this mortal life ; the other the everlast-
ing joys of heaven. Whatever, therefore, in things human is of
a sacred character, whatever belongs, either of its own nature
or by reason of the end to which it is referred, to the salvation
of souls, or to the worship of God, is subject to the power and
judgment of the Church. Whatever is to be ranged under the
civil and political order is rightly subject to the civil authority.
Jesus Christ has himself given command that what is Caesar's is
to be rendered to Caesar, and that what belongs to God is to
be rendered to God."

This ought to silence once for all the oft-repeated calumny
that the church desires to seize and absorb the secular power of
the state, or usurp its functions in any way. Nothing could be
more foreign, indeed, to her mission, or more destructive to her
influence, should she ever be so false to herself as to attempt it.

On more than one occasion Leo XIII. has written on the
rights of labor, and his words have been universally accepted as

* Rom. viii. i.

I895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 123

full of profound wisdom. One of the most remarkable of these
utterances is found in the Encyclical of May, 1891, inasmuch
as it was seen to fit exactly to the situation then developed
in the conflict between capitalist and working-man. The follow-
ing extracts from different portions of this document are emi-
nently entitled to the consideration of the thoughtful :

" We now approach a subject of great and urgent importance,
and one in respect of which, if extremes are to be avoided,
right notions are absolutely necessary. Wages, as we are told,
are regulated by free consent, and therefore the employer, when
he pays what was agreed upon, has done his part and seeming-
ly is not called upon to do anything beyond. The only way,
it is said, in which injustice might occur would be if the
master refused to pay the whole of the wages, or if the work-
man should not complete the work undertaken ; in such cases
the state should intervene, to see that each obtains his due ;
but not under any other circumstances.

" This mode of reasoning is, to a fair-minded man, by no
means convincing, for there are important considerations which
it leaves out of account altogether. To labor is to exert one's
self for the sake of procuring what is necessary for the purposes
of life, and chief of all for self-preservation. In the sweat of
thy brow thou shalt eat thy bread.* Hence a man's labor bears
two notes or characters. First of all, it is personal, inasmuch as
the exertion of individual strength belongs to the individual
who puts it forth; employing such strength to procure that per-
sonal advantage on account of which it was bestowed. Second-
ly, man's labor is necessary ; for without the result of labor a
man cannot live ; and self-preservation is a law of nature
which it is wrong to disobey. Now, were we to consider labor
so far as it is personal merely, doubtless it would be within the
workman's right to accept any rate of wages whatsoever ; for in
the same way as he is free to work or not, so is he free to
accept a small remuneration or even none at all. But this is a
mere abstract supposition ; the labor of the working-man is not
only his personal attribute, but it is necessary ; and this makes
all the difference. The preservation of life is the bounden duty
of one and all, and to be wanting therein is a crime. It follows
that each one has a right to procure what is required in order
to live ; and the poor can procure it in no other way than
through work and wages.

" If a workman's wages be sufficient to enable him to main-

* Genesis iii. 19.

124 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

tain himself, his wife, and his children in reasonable comfort,
he will not find it difficult, if he be a sensible man, to study
economy ; and he will not fail, by cutting down expenses, to
put by some little savings and thus secure a small income.
Nature and reason alike would urge him to this. We have
seen that this great labor-question cannot be solved save by
assuming as a principle that private ownership must be held
sacred and inviolable. The law, therefore, should favor owner-
ship, and its policy should be to induce as many as possible of
the humbler class to become owners.

" In the last place, employers and workmen may of them-
selves effect much in the matter we are treating, by means of
such associations and organizations as afford opportune aid to
those who are in distress, and which draw the two classes more
closely together. Among these may be enumerated, societies
for mutual help ; various benevolent foundations established by
private persons to provide for the workman, and for his widow
or his orphans, in case of sudden calamity, in sickness, and in
the event of death ; and what are called ' patronages,' or insti-
tutions for the care of boys and girls, for young people, as well
as homes for the aged."

We would earnestly bespeak a wide perusal and an attentive
study of this invaluable volume. This is rendered all the more
feasible from the form in which it is produced, which brings it
easily within the reach of every working-man and woman.

The usual methods of scientific disquisition are the reverse
of attractive, in a good many cases, to the people who listen or
read. This fact, which has long been proverbial and truismatic,
is in itself a proof of the power of science, since in the pursuit
of it the strong repugnance of the human mind to the dry, the
formal, the minutely laborious and the polysyllabic, is triumph-
antly overcome by those who have devoted their intellects to
the study of its relations to nature. Some of its most brilliant
expositors, however, are men gifted with powers of language
and adaptability to the capacities of their audiences which make
their treatises or discourses exercises more fascinating and
delightful than the most entrancing opera, concert, or drama.
We do not speak in this connection of some scientists whose
lectures seem designed more to show the lecturer's own esprit
and powers of wit than to demonstrate the truths of sci-
ence. Men of this kind are undoubtedly clever, but they are
not of much benefit to the cause of scientific research. But we

i89S-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 125

speak of such lectures as those of Professor. Ernst Mach, of
Prague University,* a translation of whose works has just been
made by Mr. T. J. McCormack, of La Salle, 111. They are
styled " popular lectures," and not inaptly so, for in their treat-
ment the simplest language is employed, and yet we find the
most beautiful of ideas unfolded in the exposition, and the mind
irresistibly drawn away from the commonplace and banal things
of life by the magic wand of the scientific interpreter. The
methods of illustration and experiment employed in the pages
of the book are all wonderfully simple, yet singularly efficacious
in conveying clearly and convincingly the truth which the lec-
turer wishes to impress. The book shows how much has been
done in modern days to make the study of natural laws a thing
within the grasp of minds of average calibre, by disentangling
it from the cumbersome. There is considerable diversity in the
subjects treated, yet a diligent perusal of them will show how
nearly they all are related, or at least how the interdependence
which seems to be the organic law in all nature is a charac-
teristic, necessarily, of the subjects which a scientific lecturer
finds to his hand. The Force of Liquids, the Fibres of Corti
a very remarkable discovery in human auriscopy the Causes of
Harmony, the Velocity of Light, Why Man has Two Eyes these
give examples of the nature of the themes examined. We
would wish that thoughtless people could have some idea of
these treatises, just in order to learn how many popular beliefs
on even the simplest things are so utterly at variance with the
real facts when the test of science is applied to them in the
philosopher's laboratory.

There is nothing said in the work to indicate what the reli-
gious opinions of the writer are, but it is to be remarked that
he pays a high tribute, as an honest and candid student must
whenever called upon, to the vast benefit to civilization which
the Catholic Church has rendered by her adoption and preserva-
tion of the Latin language. This led to a sort of uniformity
amongst the nations when they began to emerge from barbar-
ism, and laid the foundations of civilization in Europe. But it
need not be inferred, from the absence of any reference to the
subject in the book, that so intelligent an observer as the learned
professor could be insensible to the smallness of the proportion
between the spirit of the Christian religion and the language in
which it was diffused, in the great work of building up a civil-

* Popular Scientific Lectures. By Ernst Mach, professor of physics in the University of
Prague. Translated by Thomas J. McCormack. Chicago : The Open Court Publishing Co.

126 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

ized system. This is where the domain of the apparently mar-
vellous is reached, and the mind is brought face to face with
the mysterious workings of divinity in the destinies of mankind.

Mr. Arthur J. Balfour has a literary bent whose character,
taken in conjunction with his well-known political views, indi-
cates a singular intellectual condition. He is strongly predis-
posed toward logic and philosophy, and his method of dealing
with these subjects is searching and analytical, but from a liter-
ary point of view too severely simple. Yet no one can fail to
be struck by the incisiveness of his reasoning and the justice of
the conclusions he draws from a certain set of premises, though
these premises themselves may be illusory or unwarranted. A few
years ago he published a book called A Defence of Philosophic
Doubt. It was a clever book, although it proved nothing save
that the writer was in a state of mind not free from doubt,
whatever it might be with regard to philosophy. It seems to
have been only one of a series a trilogy, perhaps as we now
have a second, taking a higher ground, and assuming the char-
acter of an apology for people who are weak enough to believe
in a Deity and an immortal soul. This book is called The
Foundations of Belief* Some of its chapters were published as
independent essays recently in the International Journal of Ethics.

Mr. Balfour explains that his new work is intended as an
introduction to the study of theology. As to theology itself,
that is another matter. He frankly confesses that he knows
nothing about it. He is merely pointing out the building and
opening for the intending student the door, that he may enter in.

When one has read through this book, he will have no diffi-
culty in discovering that its author has now taken the negative
side in the discussion which he himself started in its prede-
cessor. Whether this logical tergiversation is merely adopted
as a means of showing his proficiency in the art of debate or
is the genuine outcome of a desire to ascertain by logical test
the truth about the tremendous problems of life and eternity,
we may not undertake at this stage of the literary parturitio'n to
venture to say. But no one can help being struck by the grave
oversight made by the very clever logician who presents us with
his views pro and con. How can a man who confessedly knows
nothing about a subject undertake to introduce that subject to
others? Apparently unable to make up his own mind that

* The Foundations of Belief . By the Right Hon. A. J. Balfour. New York : Longmans,
Green & Co.

1 895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 127

theology is a thing with a real basis, or only a system resting
on a false assumption, he undertakes to lead others into such
" an attitude of mind" as will induce them to enter upon the
study of the greatest of all human subjects of thought.

Mr. Balfour seems, however, to have reached, in his mental
struggle, just so much positive ground as that, after all other
resources of speculation have been proved worthless, the belief
in a Deity is an essential for humanity ; for after examining all
the negative sides of the question very closely he goes on to ask :

" What support does the belief in a Deity ineffably remote
from all human conditions bring to men thus hesitating whether
they are to count themselves as beasts that perish, or among
the sons of God ? What bridge can be found to span the im-
measurable gulf which separates Infinite Spirit from creatures
who seem little more than physiological accidents ? What faith
is there, other than the Incarnation, which will enable us to real-
ize that, however far apart, they are not hopelessly divided ?
The intellectual perplexities which haunt us in that dim region
where mind and matter meet may not be thus allayed. But they
who think with me that, though it is a hard thing for us to be-
lieve that we are made in the likeness of God, it is yet a very
necessary thing, will not be anxious to deny that an effectual
trust in this great truth, a full satisfaction of this ethical need,
are among the natural fruits of a Christian theory of the world."

It would be in logical sequence that, after producing such a
book, Mr. Balfour should at once enter a theological class him-
self ; but the book itself is the proof that logic in action and
logic in argument are very different things in the mind of the
clever debater who has written it.

As Others Saw Him * is a work by an anonymous author,
suggested, perhaps, by Ben Hur, from the stand-point of a Jew
contemporary with our Divine Redeemer and an eye-witness
of the closing scenes of his life in the sacred city. We believe
that much good may be derived from the perusal of this work,
which is extremely striking and vivid, for it undoubtedly helps
us to realize very clearly the state of affairs in Judea and Jeru-
salem at the time of our Lord's sojourn there. No one can
deny that it is helpful in a large degree to get an insight into
the currents of religious thought, the social life, and the politi-
cal complexities which formed the background for the awful
tragedy of the Atonement ; and such a picture is easily realized

* As Others Saw Htm: A Retrospect. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

128 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

from this volume. The unknown writer appears to have studied
his subject very diligently, as he descends into many minute
details regarding the ways of the Jews and the topography of
Jerusalem. Touching the death of the Saviour he presents us
with the thought that appears to have entered the minds of
many Jews who believed in a Messiah of a more earthly type,
who was to deliver them from national enslavement rather than
from the bondage of sin, and yet saw such proofs of his divinity
that they were doubtful and deplored his judicial murder.
These wavering sophists solaced themselves with the reflection
that he was himself responsible in the greatest measure for the
tragedy, by his choosing to remain silent when the Jews handed
him over to the Roman authorities on a political charge. The
chapter describing the scene at the execution of the Saviour is
particularly impressive, full of simple power and the expression
of doubt and remorse which make it perfectly natural.

The Mystery or Miracle Play of the Middle Ages, a poetical
form long neglected, is revived by a rising young French poet,
E. Ponvillon, in honor of Bernadette of Lourdes.* The scheme
of the Mystery is so comprehensive as to satisfy the most am-
bitious lyrists, whose plan embraces time and space, heaven,
earth, hell, purgatory, the past and the future, and not only
men and angels but divine beings. The form which Goethe
chose for his greatest work, and even Dante, is somewhat anal-
ogous to this ancient device, only that it was more contracted
in scope and scenic effect, and limited in what we may call
stage property. There can be no question but in the story of
Bernadette the poet had the widest range that the most exact-
ing imagination could desire ; and when we mention the fact
that some of the actors whom he makes talk and brings
under the benign magnetism of Bernadette are insects and
birds and snakes and field animals, it must be owned that he
has availed himself of the poet's license to the extent that
recognizes not the extravagant. This fact alone removes this
Mystery from the categories of those that are available for stage
representation ; but there are supernatural occurrences of a far
more wonderful order which entirely remove it from the prac-
tical region, and may seem indeed to many too awful to be
presented to the eye or the mind in any imitative way. The
play is intended to be read and studied devoutly, and not to

* Bernadette of Lourdes : A Mystery. By E. Ponvillon. Translated by Henry O'Shea.
New York : Benziger Brothers ; London : Burns & Gates.

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 129

be acted. Yet it presents us the story of Bernadette clearly
and consistently throughout ; showing her inner life, her won-
derful gift of supernatural grace, her temptation, and her death.
The language of the poem rises into exalted strains at times ;
again the movement flows on in homely simplicity, and at times
borders a little on the childish, especially in the dialogue por-
tions between St. Bernard and the Guardian Angel. A pro-
logue to the work is rich in the fervid yet tasteful imagery
which the best usage of the French tongue freely allows in
poetical composition, and even in suitable prose work. The
English translation of the poem is the only version which has
come to hand ; it is the work of Mr. Henry O'Shea, who
dates it from Biarritz.

The day of inquiry is at its noon, in the religious world ;
into the origin and the causes of Christian cleavage minds are
searching now as they never have searched before. No period
could be more opportune for a full and unsparing exposure of
the true history of the great Revolt of the sixteenth century,
done without passion and having regard only to the interests of
truth and the enlightenment of all who honestly desire light.
There are many millions of men and women who sincerely
believe that that Revolt was a spiritual and an intellectual
movement, springing from the human conscience and the desire
for independence in the realm of human thought. The truth
lay buried under the accumulated debris of centuries of false-
hood and concealment of proof, but gradually it is being dug
out as the overwhelmed cities are being excavated on the slopes
of Vesuvius.

The extraordinary interest aroused by Dr. Gasquet's great
work, Henry VIII. and the English Monasteries, has fastened
especial attention on the English branch of the Revolt. What-
ever may be claimed for it on intellectual grounds amongst the
German states and elsewhere on the European continent, a
totally different origin is found in the case of England. There
it was at once the outcome of a protracted constitutional strug-
gle for the spiritual independence of the church, and an insati-
able greed on the part of king and nobles for the temporal pos-
sessions with which the piety of past generations of land-owners
had endowed the church. The material base of' operations
secured for the Revolt by the plunder of the monasteries
gave it a leverage without which it never could have gained
the lodgment it has since maintained. Hence the inner history
VOL. LXI. 9

130 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

of the beginnings of the movement in England possesses an
intense interest, not only for the ecclesiastical student but for
the canonist, the secular legist, the political economist, and the
student of constitutionalism in government.

A most valuable supplement to Father Gasquet's work is the
History of the Church in England, from the pen of Mary H. Al-
lies.* It covers the ground from the germ days of the Revolt
to the climax of the movement in the establishment of the An-
glican Church and the death of its foundress, Elizabeth Tudor.
This field is wide enough to occupy tomes ; the value of this
work lies in its concentration of the events upon which other
writers might consume months of the student's life. This result
is gained without any loss of literary style or harmony of ar-
rangement ; rather, the symmetry of the work, we opine, is en-
hanced by boldness and conciseness in outline.

The unhappy connection between church and state which
existed in many European countries at the time had resulted
in many abuses in the affairs of the church, yet with all these
drawbacks it was a tremendous bulwark against wrong. It
stood between the poor and the rapacity of crown and feudal
lord ; it stood between the ambition of the monarch for sov-
ereignty in the spiritual domain and the rights of bishops and
clergy. Its weakness lay in accepting the king's nominees for
ecclesiastical positions and allowing absentees and foreigners to
hold benefices. If it had but been complaisant to Henry's sen-
sualities, it might have never become the prey to his avarice
and that of his parasites, but here was the rock upon which it
split. Wolsey was no typical churchman ; he was a statesman
first. Had he but shown the firmness of Sir Thomas More in
resisting the king's unlawful will, he might have stayed the
gathering of the torrent which swept him away in its fury.

The story of the suppression of the monasteries, which has
been told pretty fully for the first time by Father Gasquet, is
largely relied on by the authoress for some of the most effec-
tive chapters of her history. Only a hundred and five monaster-
ies elected to save themselves by the consent of their inmates to
take the conscience-breaking oath of supremacy, whilst about
three hundred and five establishments, by their refusal, incurred
the doom of annihilation. Then came the turn of the great
abbeys, then of the nunneries. The smoke of the faggot, the
ring of the headsman's axe, the hideous butchery of the treason-
gibbet, made the accompaniment to this robbery meanwhile, all

* History of the Church of England, from the Accession of Henry VIII. to the Death of
Queen Elizabeth. By Mary H. Allies. London: Burns & Gates; New York: Benziger Bros.

1 895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. i 3I

over the land, as one after another bands of noble men and
women, religious and lay, refused to forswear themselves at the
pleasure of a human satyr. In these pages the story of the
Tudor Terror is well told. Every fact related in it rests upon
the indubitable testimony of the state papers of the day.

The Reformation had been effected with a loss of many
thousands of lives, but with a gain to Henry's treasury of about
seventy million dollars, and of untold wealth to the lords who
had assisted in the work of plunder. That it began in a
desire to make the king .master in spirituals as in temporals was
at length demonstrated in the imbecile proceeding of citing the
martyred Thomas a Becket to come and appear before Henry
to account for the causes of his death. Failing his response to
this fool summons, it was decreed that the saint had been
justly punished for his offences against the royal supremacy.
This solemn farce was followed by an incursion of the king into
the realm of central spiritual authority, usurping the spiritual
power as exercised by pope and canonical court, by virtue of
which canonization is proved and decreed. St. Thomas's name
was formally erased from the roll of martyrs, his bones were ex-
humed and burnt, and his rich shrine at Canterbury desecrated
and sacked.

Thus the foundations of Protestantism were laid in England.
Begun in lust, they were cemented with rivers of blood, and
capped with an outrage on religion and humanity more revolting
than any which marked the French Revolution and the enthrone-
ment of the Goddess of Reason. The story of the gradual rise
of the fabric of Anglicanism from this base is vividly told
in this valuable history.

It is not necessary, in commending Walter Lecky's new
volume, Down at Caxton's* to say that it is a work worth reading
merely for its style. Those who are familiar with his work in
these pages amongst others know by this time that he is one
who discards conventionality in literature and says what he has
to say in his own fashion. As it happens that this fashion is
bright, shrewd, and apt, even though at times a trifle sententious,
they know what to expect in this cluster of essays. They are
chiefly biographical sketches of present Catholic writers, more
or less familiar to the reading public. No doubt they will be
read with a great deal of interest, because, although some of
them have been presented by friendly pens before, the touch
has not always been so discriminating as in this case. We

* Down at Caxton's. By Walter Lecky. Baltimore : John Murphy & Co.

132 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

would just as soon that Walter Lecky had given us something
of a constructive rather than a critical character, like his own
Adirondack Sketches. We seem to be moving about in a circle
just now not a vicious circle necessarily each author writing
about another author, and the other author telling the inter-
viewer how he wrote such and such a thing. This is weak, and
argues a poverty of invention which may not really exist.

The sketches embraced in Down at Caxtoris embrace some
characters beloved of Catholic writers Richard Malcolm John-
ston, Charles Warren Stoddard, Rev. J. B. Tabb, Agnes Rep-
plier, Katherine E. Conway, M. F. Egan, and several others. It
will be found that, even although some of these have been sketched
already, the light in which they are seen under Walter Lecky's
analysis goes deeper down and searches out thought and motive
and mental fibre better than any preceding expositor.

The last piece in the volume is a valuable contribution to a
thorny question. It is a paper entitled " Literature and our
Catholic Poor," in the course of which the obstacles which stand
in the way of the literary reformer and the best way of over-
coming them are discussed. The subject is treated from the
point of view of one who has practical knowledge of the diffi-
culties of getting good Catholic literature into Catholic hands,
and the myriad allurements of the baneful stuff which takes the
place of its wholesome brother. As a great deal of wild and
foolish ink has been expended on this subject by well-meaning
persons who know nothing, about the subject save that the
evil exists, it were well that this endeavor to elucidate it
should be widely read and studied. As the book is produced
at the very modest price of thirty-five cents, it is accessible
to a very large section of the public who read.

To the student of literature many of these essays will prove
advantageous reading, and notably the very simple essay on
poetry read so long ago as 1859 before the Howard School at
Alexandria, Va. To the student of church history, in so far
as the Episcopalian Church in the United States has made
history or pertains to it, some of the religious essays will not
be without value. To those who regarded Phillips Brooks as a
factor in the religious world of his day two essays are of

* Essays and Addresses : Religious, Literary, and Social, By Phillips Brooks. Edited
by the Rev. John Cotton Brooks. New York : E. P. Dutton & Co.

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 133

peculiar and distinct interest as representing the bent of his
religious thought, viz., Authority and Conscience, being a paper
read before the Ninth Congress of the Protestant Episcopal
Church at Detroit in 1884; the other, Orthodoxy, delivered
before the Clericus' Club at Cambridge, in 1890. The fathers of
the Ninth Congress of the Protestant Episcopal Church, with
Archdeacon Chasuble or some other such prelate at their head,
must have groaned aloud in their distress of mind as they
listened in utter amazement to this paper on Authority and
Conscience. Only the Broad-churchmen could have found any
consolation in it, and even they must have shaken their heads
in some doubt, for so broad is his doctrine that the idea of a
church is almost, if not entirely, eliminated. If there be author-
ity in matters of religion worth consideration it must be infalli-
ble. This we take to have been Dr. Brooks's idea concerning
authority in religion. He rejects, of course, what he is pleased
to term " the localized infallibility of Rome." He rejects also
the infallibility of " the ecumenical mind." He rejects likewise
the infallibility of the Scriptures. " And if we lay aside not
sadly and reluctantly, but gladly as getting rid of an incubus,
if so we lay aside the notion of infallible authority, then what
remains ? I answer individualism."

Why then a church, or bishops, or priests, or the sacra-
ments ? The wonder to our mind after a careful study 'of this
essay is that Phillips Brooks remained in orders and was con-
secrated to the episcopate of even a Protestant body. Some-
where in this essay he says : " Individualism in matters of
thought means private judgment." And mind you, individual-
ism is what he takes in place of infallibility. He is as honest
as he is fearless, and it is these two noble qualities in the man
that make his personality so charming. For surely these words
with which he closes his essay on orthodoxy are both bold and
honest : " Personal judgment is on the throne and will remain
there personal judgment enlightened by all the wisdom, past
and present, which it can summon to its aid, but forming
finally its own conclusions and standing by them in the sight
of God, whether it stands in a great company or stands alone."

It is this infallible personal judgment, alas ! that makes the
Agnostic, that creates that broad Christianity without Sacrifice
and the Passion, that is human sympathy and human love and
human kindness, which even the pagans had.'

WITH this volume, our sixty-first, we begin our
thirty-first year of existence as a literary organism.
The three decades we have witnessed have been
fruitful of great results for the Catholic Church in these States.
Its development as an instrument of civilization during that
period has been enormous. It stands at the head of the intellec-
tual forces of the age, and leads the way in every field where
the goal is the amelioration, the advancement, and the elevation
of the human race. The eyes of the world, it is no exaggera-
tion to say, are fixed on the Catholic Church of America, fasci-
nated by the attitude she is assuming, and the boldness of the
course she has struck out for herself in accordance with the
spirit and the needs of the time.

To what extent THE CATHOLIC WORLD has been a factor in
the development of this great agency it is not for its conductors
to say. To others must be left the task of gauging our endea-
vor by the light of results. That there are results of a notable
character is matter of common knowledge, and in this fact lies
our reward and our justification. Many of the pens which con-
tributed to THE CATHOLIC WORLD in past years have since left
their mark in other fields of literature, where their names would
be unknown in all probability but for the opportunities given
them in these pages.

We have always striven for the highest literary excellence
as the sine qua non of a representative Catholic organ, yet we
have not been insensible to the growing taste for pictorial ac-
companiment. There is no doubt that in certain classes of lite-
rary subjects the illustration is a valuable auxiliary to the au-
thor's pen, and we have availed ourselves of this fact very
frequently in recent years. We have practical assurance that
this departure from a conservative rule is in keeping with the
object we have in view, and we intend to persevere in and ex-
tend the principle with a due regard to the question of appro-
priateness. The success of the experiment warranted a still more
progressive step that of reducing the price of the magazine.
This was done a year ago, and, we are gratified to say, with

1 89 5.] EDITORIAL NOTES. !35

the best results. The circulation of the magazine has been more
than doubled since these new measures were taken.

It was the idea and the purpose of the saintly founder of
THE CATHOLIC WORLD, the late Father Hecker, to place it at
once in the first rank of magazines. His desire is a sacred be-
quest and heirloom to those who now conduct it, and they will
always exert themselves to uphold and perpetuate it.

The Holy Father celebrated his eighty-fifth birthday on Feb-
ruary 22, and was the recipient of many felicitations and gifts
on the notable occasion. His health continues remarkably good,
and his spirits full of something like youthful vivacity. It is
not long since Mr. Gladstone celebrated his eighty-fourth birth-
day, and the great old statesman is so robust physically that he
can still cut down trees and walk at the rate of four miles an
hour. Present appearances all point to the strong likelihood of
those two great old men living until they have both seen their
most cherished projects and ideals, the one in the spiritual and
social order, the other in the political world, in the category of
faits accomplis.

With this issue the series of " Glimpses of Life in an Angli-
can Seminary " come to a close. They have been followed, we
are well aware, with very deep interest, and have proved an
exceedingly valuable addition to our ecclesiastical history. Many-
will desire to have the work in a separate form, and to meet
that wish the series will now be put into the publisher's hands
for production in a substantial volume. We expect to be able
to announce the date of the appearance of the u Glimpses " in
'a very short time.

We do not think too much attention can be given to the
article by Rev. Dr. Zahm, in this issue of THE CATHOLIC
WORLD, on the new system of teaching the blind the art of
reading and writing. The subject is one of the first import.

The arrangements made by THE CATHOLIC WORLD for the
immediate future include special articles by Mr. Orby Shipley,
Mr. Gilliatt-Smith, and Rev. Kenelm Vaughan on important
questions affecting the English Church.

The subject of social improvement will be taken up in THE
CATHOLIC WORLD by a distinguished writer who has made it, as
well as labor ethics, a special study. We have also arranged
with Mr. Henry Austin Adams for a series of papers.

136 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [April,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

DR. EDWARD EVERETT HALE has been for half a century actively en-
gaged in profitable work for the social and intellectual advancement of young
people. His remarkable book, The Man without a Country, has furnished a
most useful object-lesson in patriotism. As a member of the Chautauqua Council
he has had abundant opportunities to exercise a directive influence over the read-
ing matter designated for a vast number of eager seekers after knowledge in the
humbler walks of life. He holds that every citizen of the Republic should have
but one standard of etiquette for the workman and for the capitalist ; for each and
all, brothers and sisters of the human family, there should be manifested in various
ways the noble etiquette of the Golden Rule. According to his teaching, for " civil-
ized states " it is a fundamental mistake to suppose that " knowledge is more es-
sential than virtue in government."

The Chautauquan Magazine has published the address by Dr. Hale to the C-
L. S. C. Class of 1894, in which he expressed kind wishes for the Catholic allies of
the Reading Circle movement and the Columbian Reading Union. From the
view-point of a sociologist he estimates that the proportion of the working force in
America, which has only muscle and nerve to bring to the common weal, is but
eleven in a hundred. The hewers and diggers, stevedores on the wharves, street
laborers in the cities, counting all designated by Shakspere as groundlings, the
number will not exceed eleven in a hundred of the whole population. This calcu-
lation is somewhat optimistic, and may be very much below the actual standard
in any particular town or city. It allows eighty-nine per cent, of the total popula-
tion to have the capacity for the intelligent study of literature and science, and an
appreciation of the value to society of purity, honor, justice, and truth. Dr. Hale
thinks that the state can attend sufficiently well to the primary teaching of reading,
writing, and arithmetic, and that the volunteer efforts for self-improvement are
necessary for " the twenty million people between sixteen years old and forty-six
who rule this nation. These twenty million are to receive a liberal education.
The annual class of new students will be approximately one-thirtieth of the num-
ber three hundred and thirty thousand people."

It is claimed that about seventy-five thousand persons were assisted in their
search for this liberal education by the Chautauqua system in 1894. Numerous
universities and colleges in their regular courses of study, and by the aid of univer-
sity extension lectures, also provided for a vast number of students. By the mail
service, by publications relating to science, government surveys, information from
consuls in foreign countries, and by the Smithsonian Institute at Washington, the
United States devotes a large amount of money annually to increase the facilities

for higher education.

* * *

One who has had for the first time an opportunity to attend the meeting of a
Reading Circle, which cannot with -propriety be named here, thus writes: You
probably know something of my admiration for that really gifted woman, the
president. She has so concentrated my interest by her brilliancy, that so far I
know little of the lesser luminaries. You, perhaps, may be acquainted with her
powers, and with those of many others like her ; but to me, who have met so few
really fine women, she seems a marvel. Not that she is in the least showy or
pretentious. She is as learned as she is pious and zealous, in fact able in all ways.

i895-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 137

As Mark Antony, I believe, says somewhere of Brutus, " This is a man ! " I felt
like saying " This is a woman ! " as I listened with delighted attention to her ex-
planation of books and their contents. The first day I went off so overwhelmed
that I was ready to throw my books into a corner, so convinced was I of my utter
inability to teach anything, so convinced of my having heretofore done it all the
wrong way. The president is a born teacher of the superior sort. She is the
very soul of this enterprise.

We congratulate the Reading Circle that has such an accomplished president,
and recommend our friend to take notes patiently and throw away no books, es-
pecially none written by Catholic authors.

* * *

We charge nothing for advice to publishers. This hint is for them :
" I notice a suggestion made in the Columbian Reading Union in regard to the
reprinting of articles from back numbers of the American Catholic Quarterly
Review and THE CATHOLIC WORLD. The suggestion seems to me a very happy
one, and I would like to see it acted upon by having the poem ' The Cid,' by Au-
brey de Vere, which appeared in four numbers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD,
August-November, 1892, put in shape to be used by Reading Circles, as well as
by students of literature in high-schools and academies. If it were gotten out in a
neat, handy form, and properly advertised, I believe it would sell in large quan-
tities.

" The Cassell Publishing Co. has his ' Legends of St. Patrick ' in paper covers
at ten cents. The essays by Brother Azarias, that appeared in the Quarterly \
would also make a valuable book. MARGARET S. MOONEY,

President St. Scholastica Reading Circle, Albany, N. Y."

* * *

A very interesting method of studying an author was given by a writer in the
Ladies' Home Journal. Select one of the best specimens of an author's work
for F. Marion Crawford Saracinesca is to be chosen then at the next meeting
of the Reading Circle members may come with a little note-book in which is
written what the opinion of the book is, any little anecdote about the characters or
the places where the scene is laid, something 'that has been heard or read about
the author, and a short personal opinion of the book as a specimen of good Eng-
lish, as to what its influence would be on the average reader, and whether it is a
book that might be called permanent or evanescent.

These written opinions should not occupy more than five minutes in reading,
and you will be surprised to find what a fund of information is yours when the
evening is over; as for your own note-books, if you will only keep them, you will
be still more surprised, as the years go by, to see what lucid ideas you had about
the books you read and how you remembered them. In taking a book of poems
it would not be necessary to read every poem in the book, but pick out the ones
that you fancied ; with a volume of history it will be wise to read it closely, not to
attempt to have every member in the club read their opinions, though each one
should write them, but the three or four, or five or six, who are mentally ahead of
the others, should be asked what they have as a summing up. With a novel less
care is necessary, though from many novels a great deal of history and a great
deal of good pure English may be learned.

* * *

The senior class in one of the leading Catholic academies of Pennsylvania
had assigned as a subject for composition " Indiscriminate Reading." In the
paper written by Miss Grace M. McElroy we find a graphic account of her visit

138 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [April,

to a book-store, and her observations of the crowd which gathered for the weekly
story-papers. She admits that girls have minds more or less fickle even when
they leave school, and that some get very much absorbed with the romantic doings

of Lord and the dreadful folly of Lady . The effect of such reading is to

make the average girl discontented with her lot in life. " I have in view," she
writes, " a friend reared in the atmosphere of a Catholic home ; her natural taste
for literature has been directed by a wise father, and the consequence is that every
womanly virtue has been developed, and a high, noble character formed, which is
eminently fitted to guide and direct others in the path of right."

Miss Genevieve E. Reid admits that the neglect of Catholic literature is often
apparent in the Catholics of the present day. " Does one out of ten read anything
that is out of the usual run of the popular novel ? It is only too true that they do
not ; that their interest is not awakened in that which they should seek to
advance. And if this be -true in a school where they have every advantage for
Catholic training, how much more there is to fear out in the world ! There the
average girl is satisfied with the novel, because she has not acquired a higher
taste."

* * #

The Confraternity of St. Gabriel has for its spiritual director the learned
chancellor of Philadelphia, Rev. James F. Loughlin, D.D. For almost five years
it has been engaged in works of mercy for the spiritual consolation of the sick,
and for converts suffering from the isolation which their change of faith has im-
posed upon them. Under its auspices a circulating library has been established,
and a considerable quantity of secular and religious literature has been collected
and distributed. The Annual Record of the Confraternity contains this letter from
a priest in South Carolina : " Returning from an extended tour through my
missions, of which I have fifty-three scattered through South Carolina, I find your
kind letter. Permit me to express my high appreciation of the noble work your
confraternity is engaged in. To alleviate the sorrows and the sufferings of the
sick by furnishing them with reading matter which will elevate the soul to God is,
indeed, a most beautiful Christian charity. None knows this better than the priest
of God, who in his own small way, from time to time, does the work of your
confraternity.

Your other feature of providing healthful reading matter to converts is espe-
cially commendable. The good effects from such a work cannot be over-estimated.
We have many poor people in this mission who have been born and raised
Catholics and who know of a Catholic church only by hearing of it. This mission
covers an area of 12,000 square miles. We have fifty-three regular stations,
covering a distance of 1,000 miles. All this territory is covered by one priest, and,
although he changes his place of habitation every night, you can see how seldom
these poor people have a chance of hearing God's word from the pulpit. And
there is no telling how much good a single newspaper may accomplish, both to
our own people, by keeping before their minds the doctrines, practices, and pro-
gress of the church, and to those outside the fold by dispelling prejudice and
paving the way for conversion.

All the members of my congregations that your Confraternity has favored are
very grateful for your kindness, and you may rest assured that I keep you all in
my unworthy prayers. J B ."

We have reason to believe that a great missionary work is waiting for mis-
sionaries in the Southern States. Priests are obliged to travel vast distances.
They can use to the best advantage Catholic literature which will preach the truth

1 895.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 139

silently. We hope that St. Gabriel's Confraternity will be enabled to extend the
work already begun in the rural districts where reading matter is so scarce and so
eagerly sought after. On receipt of ten cents in postage the Secretary, Mrs. Isabel
Whitely, 3803 Spruce Street, Philadelphia, Pa., will send a copy of the Record.

* * *

The Azarias Reading Circle at Syracuse, N. Y., is established under the
fostering care of the Rev. John F. Mullany. It has prepared an extensive plan of
study, which is here somewhat condensed that it may be used by other Reading
Circles. Five numbers are assigned for each meeting; the last number is re-
served for current topics :

November Literature: Jenkins (Shaw). Prose: Essays and Biographical
Sketches. Talk on the Aim of Reading Circle, Rev. John F. Mullany.
Evangeline, Part I., Longfellow. History: Caesar's First Invasion of
Britain (Lingard).

December Paper on Catholic Veneration of the Cross, by Rev. J. Wilmes.
History : Caesar's Second Invasion of Britain ; Customs, Manners, Re-
ligion, Government of Britain, to introduction of Christianity. Poetry:
Evangeline, Part II.

January History : Christianity prior to Anglo-Saxon Period ; Paper on Intro-
duction of Christianity. Poetry : Courtship of Miles Standish ; Biographical
Sketch of Longfellow. History: Anglo-Saxon Period; Paper: Synopsis
of Anglo-Saxons. Literature: Development of Old English Thought,
Brother Azarias ; The Continental Homestead Condition of Women.
History : Danish Period ; Essay on Life and Character of Edward the
Confessor. Literature : Development of Old English Thought ; Keltic
Influence. History : Norman Conquest. Literature : Development of Old
English Thought, to the Old Creed and the New. Poetry : Essay on Man,
Pope; Hymn on the Nativity, Milton. History: Reign of Henry I.
Literature : Development of Old English Thought ; The English in their
Insular Homestead, to St. Hilda. Poetry : Lycidas, Milton ; Elegy, Gray.
Historical Review.

February History: To Plantagenets. Literature: Development of Old
English Thought, chapter iv. ; Essay : The Advantages and Disadvantages
of the Feudal System. History: From Henry II. to Edward III. Litera-
ture : Development of Old English Thought, chapter v. Poetry:
L'Allegro, Milton ; Ode to St. Cecilia, Dryden. History : From Edward
III. to Houses of Lancaster and York. Literature : Development of Old
English Thought, chapter vi. ; Essay on Life and Character of John
Wycliffe. History: From Henry IV. to Henry VIII. Literature: Devel-
opment of Old English Thought, chapter vii. Poetry: Paradise Lost,
Book I., Milton. Paper on Magna Charta, William J. McClusky.
March History : Henry VIII. to James I. Literature : Development of Old
English Thought, chapter viii. Paper: The so-called Reformation, Rev.
John F. Mullany. History: James I. to Charles II. Literature: Middle
English Period, Jenkins (Shaw). Poetry: Paradise Lost, Books II. and
III. History: Charles II. to George I. Literature: Modern Period to
William Shakspere. Poetry : Paradise Lost, Books IV. to VII. History :
George I. to George III. Literature : To Section Second, The Augustan
Age. Poetry: Paradise Lost, Books VII. to X.

April History: George III. to Victoria. Literature: Section Second, The
Augustan Age. Poetry : Paradise Lost, completed. Prose : Reading,
Utopia, More. History : Reign of Queen Victoria. Literature : Augustan
Age, continued. Poetry : Julius Caesar, Shakspere. History : English
Constitution. Literature : Augustan Age, continued. Poetry : II Pense-
roso, Milton ; Ode to a Skylark, Shelley. Prose : Reading, Utopia.
History: Historical Review. Literature: Augustan Age, continued.
Novel Reading: Kenilworth, Scott. Poetry: Princess, Tennyson. Paper
on Life and Character of Orestes A. Brownson, William Lalor.
May Literature: Augustan Age, completed. Poetry: Idylls of the King,
Tennyson ; Merchant of Venice, Shakspere. Prose : Novel Reading, Kenil-
worth completed. Literature: General Review. Poetry: Lalla Rookh,

140 NEW BOOKS. [April,

Moore ; The Deserted Village, Goldsmith. Essay on the Life and Char-
acter of Thomas a Becket. Poetry : Lalla Rookh, continued ; Lady of the
Lake, Scott. Novel Reading: Ben Hur, Wallace. Poetry: Dante's Infer-
no ; Locksley Hall, Tennyson. Prose : Ben Hur, completed. Talk on
Dante, Rev. John F. Mullany. Poetry : Dante's Inferno, completed.
Prose : Reading of Callista, Newman. Biographical Sketch of Newman.

BOOKS OF REFERENCE.

Lingard, Gibbons, Burnet, Hume, Green, Macaulay. Alzog's Church History ;
Darras's Church History ; Monks of the West, by Montalembert ; History of the
Variations, by Bossuet ; Protestantism and Catholicity, by Balmez ; Mores Cath-
olici, by Kenelm Digby ; History of the Reformation, by Cobbett ; Historical
Sketches, by Newman ; English Cathedrals, Van Renselaer ; Ecclesiastical His-
tory, by Bede ; Lies and Errors of History, by Parsons ; Contemporaneous His-
tory, by Fredet ; Genius of Christianity, by Chateaubriand ; Anglo-Saxon Antiqui-
ties, by Lingard ; Apostolic Succession, by Right Rev. Bishop Ryan ; St. Thomas
of Canterbury and His Biographers, Freeman ; Protestant Reformation, by Spald-
ing ; Thomas a Becket, by Aubrey de Vere ; Mary Tudor, same author ; Sir Tho-
mas More, by Bridgett ; Early Churches in Britain, by Miss Allies ; Life of Gre-
gory VII., Bowden; Our Christian Heritage, Cardinal Gibbons; Old English
Literature, Brother Azarias ; Books and Reading, Brother Azarias ; Philosophy
of Literature, Brother Azarias ; Phases of Thought and Criticism, Brother Aza-
rias ; English Literature (sixth edition), Arnold; English Literature, Hart; Eng-
lish Literature, Taine ; English Men of Letters, Morley.

M. C. M.

NEW BOOKS.

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, New York:

Essays on Scandinavian Literature. By Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen. Short

Studies in Party Politics. By Noah Brooks.
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY, New York, Chicago, Toronto

Municipal Reform Movements in the United States. By William Howe Tol-
man, Ph.D. With an introductory chapter by Rev. Charles H. Parkhurst,
D.D.
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co., Boston and New York:

Latin Poetry. By R. Y. Tyrrell, Regius Professor of Greek in Dublin Uni-
versity. Stories of the Foot Hills. By Margaret Collier Graham. '
CASSELL PUBLISHING Co., New York :

Old Age, and other Poems. By Frederick Emerson Brooks.
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York :

Our Lady the Mother of Good Counsel. By Georgina Gough.
OPEN COURT PUBLISHING Co., Chicago :

Thoughts on Religion. By George John Romanes. The Free- Trade Strug-
gle in England. By M. M. Trumbull. Second edition..
MUEHLBAUER & BEHRLE, Chicago :

Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, according to the Roman Ritual.

Office of the Dead. Latin and English.
JOHN MURPHY & Co., Baltimore:

Sacerdotis Vade-Mecum, seu Rubrzctz Generales Missalis Romani in Commo-
diorem Celebrantium Usum. By Rev. J. L. Andrews. Meditations on the
Way of the Cross. By the Abbe Henri Perreyve. Translated by Miss
Emily V. Mason.
HELENA T. GOESSMAN, Amherst, Mass.:

The Christian Woman in Philanthropy. By the Publisher.
OFFICE OF THE " AVE MARIA," Notre Dame, Ind.:

A Short Cut to the True Church ; or, the Fact and the Word. By the Rev.

Edmund Hill, C.P. Third edition.
D. C. HEATH & Co., Boston :

Kleine Geschichten. By Dr. William Bernhardt.
THE ARENA PUBLISHING Co., Boston, Mass.:

Meditations in Motley. By Walter Blackburne Harte.

1 895.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

141

FRENCH STATESMEN ON SECULAR EDUCATION.

{From the Literary Digest?)

FOR nearly two decades France has been making an experiment of popular
education entirely divorced from the religious factor. In place of the traditional
religious instruction, a system of non-religious morality has been introduced. As
early as the Paris Exposition, Dean Lichte'nberger, of the Protestant Faculty of
Paris, published in a memorial volume, prepared expressly for the Exposition ex-
hibits, the opinions of leading educators of the country to the effect that the new
experiment was a failure. Again and again since then have French statesmen
declared that the absolute secularization of popular education in that land is a mis-
take and is the cause of much of the degeneration of public morality. Just at pre-
sent the question is again in the forefront in France, and a collection of opinions
from various sources makes decidedly interesting reading. A collection of views
has been made by the well-informed Paris correspondent of the influential journal
EvangeL-Luth. Kirchenzeitung, of Leipsic, and published in the sixth issue of the
current year.

M. Berenger, Vice-President of the Senate, who for years had been connected
with the lamented De Pressense in the struggle against public immorality, has re-
cently written :

" The immorality which is increasing in France at such a terrible rate must
be ascribed chiefly to three sources, namely, the absence of all religious instruction
in the education of the children ; the lack of moral education ; and the lack of dis-
cipline. Religion must again be put into its proper prominence, and a strong
moral discipline must be exercised."

Among the educators who from pedagogical reasons have recently pro-
nounced against the present system is the General School Superintendent, Felix
Pecant, himself a liberal in religious matters. In a report "to the Minister of
Education he says that in general the pupils in France are learning better
in the public schools than formerly, and then asks the question : " But does
all this training of the young make them better ? " His answer is a decided
negative. And while he thinks, from his liberal stand-point, that a better training
in such branches as aesthetics, literature, poetry, and music would elevate the moral
standards and conduct, he is rather sharply criticised for such an opinion by the
equally liberal Temps, In characteristic words this journal says :

" The programme has been for more than ten years, under the semblance of
religious neutrality, to make the ethical education in the schools to consist in the
morality of scientific Positivism, i. e,, in the affirmation of the dignity of man, in
the teaching of patriotism, in the worship of mankind. When then a child thus
filled with exalted ideas of the dignity of mankind entered life, and in public assem-
blies, in the shop and the walks of life, suddenly found out that man was a bad
and wicked being (animal), that in his fatherland intrigues and injustice prevailed,
that human society was full of passion and wrongs, what was the inevitable con-

142 WHA T THE THINKERS SA v. [April,

sequence? What a contrast between what it learned in school and what it learns
in actual life ! This is the great disappointment which the morality of Positivism
ever produces and will produce. Man was Auguste Comte's God ; but man is a
kind of a god who puts an end to faith as soon as we become acquainted with his
real being."

Professor Ernst Lavisse, the well-known advocate of Idealism, has in recent
times again and again declared the non-religious character of France's system of
education to be the fundamental reason for the failure of the whole system.
Among other things he says :

" What have we made out of the education of youth ? A series of teachings
and examinations. But to believe that these constitute the elements of a good
education is one of the lies of optimism current at school prize distribution. We
have forgotten the real theory. Our whole educational machinery is arranged for
the manufacture of diplomas, from the child upward to the age of the doctors and
licentiates ; but neither our schools nor lyce"es, and still less the faculties, have at-
tained to moral mediocrity [milieu], I know this is a hard word, but the claim
that neither our higher nor lower schools have attained to moral mediocrity is a
true word."

The recently deceased minister, President Burdeau, who has himself broken
with the Roman Catholic Church, and for the matter of that with the Church as
such, writes to Lavisse in these words :

" I am firmly convinced that what you say is the truth. By making the only
goal of our endeavor the prosperity of man, we forget that the true lever in the
world and the safest source of happiness is found in self-sacrifice. The individual
is a monster in nature, and it only attains its proper balance and health when it
yields itself up to the whole as its ideal. As much as I admire the Greek philoso-
pher, especially Socrates, yet I am of the opinion that it was Christ who spoke the
greatest word that ever fell from human lips, when he declared that the suprema-
cy of the earth and of the heavens belongs to those who know how to love and
to sacrifice."

THE REVOLT OF ANGLICANISM.

(H. Morden Bennett, in St. Luke's Magazine.}

ONE of the principal things which detains so many who would otherwise
become good Catholics is the marvellous vitality which Anglicanism has shown of
late, and it was one of the last stumbling-blocks which the writer had to sur-
mount. He saw around him, especially in later years, an apparently fully equipped
Church, with her daily Communion Service and daily round of Choral Offices,
attended by devout congregations ; her zealous clergy, visitors and teachers ; her
orderly rites and ceremonies ; her missions and retreats ; her free and open
churches ; her immense activity in church building and restoration ; her foreign
missions all over the world, etc. And, seeing all this, he had to ask himself the
all-important question : Is not the Finger of God at work here ? Can these dry
bones of the last three centuries have quickened into life of themselves ? And can
a communion that shows such a resurrection be anything less than a part or
branch of the one true Church ? Here was a difficulty, and no small one is it to
those who have never themselves experienced what it is to be a Catholic. Only
the " Kindly Light " of Faith can overcome this difficulty, or show what the true

1 895.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 143

nature of all this movement is, viz. : a call from God to return to communion with
the one true Church, in which all that is good in Anglicanism is to be found in
superabundant measure, and of which -everything good in Anglicanism is only an
imperfect copy, with nothing original in it at all, except what little Church life has
been retained through the three dark centuries of the past. For as soon as this
Light has shone upon one in some slight degree, and one has begun to think a
little, and to look beneath the surface of things, a very different state of things is
disclosed to that which outwardly appears. To begin with, much of this grand
edifice, erected by High-Church workmen chiefly, rests on a foundation of disobe-
dience disobedience to Privy Council and Ecclesiastical Courts of Law, disobe-
dience to bishops, disobedience to Prayer-book regulations, disobedience to the
Thirty-nine Articles. In the second place, the tendency to borrow (without
acknowledgment) everything that may be of service from " Roman" sources, and
at the same time to forbid entrance into " Roman " churches, and the use of
" Roman " books, shows a spirit that makes for division rather than for peace and
union.

THE SOCIAL PROBLEM.

( The Homiletic Review?)

THERE is no hope of a settlement of the existing troubles so long as the rela-
tions between capital and labor are impersonal, so long as men are estimated
merely according to the amount of work they can perform, and so long as servants
are nothing but "help" and laborers nothing but "hands." Usually those
dependent on a wage for their living are more highly regarded and better treated
in a republic than in the old monarchies ; but even in the United States they are
frequently treated with an insolence which is an insult to all the better instincts
of manhood and womanhood. There are large circles in which labor is deemed
unworthy of a gentleman and lady, and in which those obliged to perform it are
looked down upon as an inferior class.

The continuance of this condition not only means godlessness and inhuman-
ity, but also serious danger. Laborers are determined not to submit to such treat-
ment, and every human being declares that they are right. But how can the right
relation be established between the different classes ? We answer, by personal
contact. They must learn to know each other better. It will then be found that
broadcloth can cover a noble heart, and that the most aspiring souls and most
upright characters can be found among the toiling masses. . . .

Experience both in America and Europe proves that in very many cases the
best gifts are personal, and do not consist of money, food, or clothing. The most
valuable help is that which enables the poor to help themselves, which educates
them, teaches them self-respect, cleanliness, industry, and economy, and which
gives them the conditions to rise by their own foresight and energy. Often what
the poor have made is far more valuable to them than what is given to them.
Able and worthy men do not want to be treated as paupers, but they ask only for
such conditions as will enable them to help themselves.

THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA.

OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS.

On Wednesday, October 2, 1895, the Catholic University of
America will open four Departments for lay students, as follows :

i. DEPARTMENT OF PHILOSOPHY:

Including full courses in Logic, Certitude, Metaphysics, Cosmology,
Rational and Experimental Psychology, Ethics, Sociology, Relations
of Philosophy to the Natural Sciences and to Religion.

These courses will lead up to the degrees of A. M. and Ph. D.
Students who have not already taken the degree of A. B. at some
recognized College, will be required to stand their examination for it
soon after entering the University.

2. DEPARTMENT OF EXPERIMENTAL AND APPLIED SCIENCES:
Including full courses in Mathematics, Astronomy, Physics, Chemis-
try, Botany, Zoology, with Civil, Electrical, and Mechanical
Engineering, and the fundamentals of Philosophy.

In this Department also students may take the degrees of A. M.
and Ph. D., the conditions as to the A. B. being as above. Or they
may receive the Diploma of Civil, Electrical, or Mechanical Engi-
neer ; in which case the educational requirements for admission will
be those usually demanded in Schools of Technology.

3. DEPARTMENT OF LETTERS :

Including full courses in Hebrew, Syriac, Assyrian, Arabic, Coptic,
Greek, Latin, French, German, and English Language and Litera-
ture, with the fundamentals of Philosophy.

Degrees and requirements as in the Department of Philosophy.

4. DEPARTMENT OF THE SOCIAL SCIENCES:

Including full courses in Ethics and Sociology, Economics, Political
Science, and Law.

In this Department students will be prepared for admission to
the Bar, and for the degrees of LL. B., LL. M., and LL. D. They
must prove by examination, or by proper certificates, that their pre-
vious education has fitted'them for these studies.

In any of the Departments, students not aspiring to degrees may
be admitted, as special students, to follow any special courses for
which they are fitted.

Annual fee for all courses, $100. Special rates for special
students.

Thirty scholarships of $ TOO each, that is to say, exempting from
the annual fee, will be awarded to students proved by competitive
examination or by satisfactory testimonials to be exceptionally
deserving.

For further particulars, apply to Rev. Professor Edward A. Pace,
Dean of the Faculty of Philosophy, or to Professor William C. Robin-
son, Dean of the Faculty of the Social Sciences, at the Catholic Uni-
versity of America, Washington, D. C.

JOHN J. KEANE, Rector.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXI. MAY, 1895. No. 362.

BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS.

BY B. MORGAN.

FIERCE light which beats on Napoleon's throne
has left one point in semi-darkness the inner
history of his divorce and remarriage, and the
one ringing note of opposition he was forced to
hear thereon. Thiers has dealt inadequately, if
not unfairly, with the facts ; Talleyrand has given them a dis-
tinctly false coloring. The present writer has been enabled to
piece together the disconnected items from the best contempor-
ary authorities, viz. : the official documents at Rome and Paris,
and the memoirs of Consalvi, Pignatelli, etc. The Black Car-
dinals were the members of the Sacred College who refused to
give the sanction of their presence to Napoleon's marriage with
Marie-Louise, thereby incurring the emperor's hostility, and
among other penalties being forbidden to wear the cardinal's
dress or any insignia of ecclesiastical rank.

Historically the episode is of the first importance ; the prin-
ciple affirmed by the cardinals being essentially the same as
that which separated England from the church in the days of
Henry VIII., while the consequences of their action had a direct
influence on the Concordat question. Napoleon's design of
divorcing Josephine was neither hastily conceived nor precipi-
tously executed. A list, drawn up by his orders in 1807, con-
taining the names of eighteen marriageable princesses, proves
that even then he was deliberating on the choice of a mother
for his heir. When Wagram was fought and won, two years
later, the time appeared ripe for action, and on October 15,

146 BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. [May,

1809, Napoleon and Josephine went through a solemn form dis-
solving by mutual consent the civil ties which had united them
for thirteen years.

Here the question might have ended had a civil contract
been the only obstacle to a new marriage. In Catholic coun-
tries the church recognizes no marriage which is not contracted
in accordance with the decrees of the Council of Trent : the
parish priest (or his delegate) of one of the contracting parties
must officiate and there must be two witnesses of the union.
These conditions, though essential, are of ecclesiastical ordinance,
and as such are within the dispensing power of the pope.

But, unfortunately for the smooth working of Napoleon's
designs, the religious ceremony had taken place. On December
I, 1804, Cardinal Fesch, authorized by papal dispensation, had
given the blessing and sanction of the church to the union,
without the presence of the parochus or of witnesses.

It is certain that Napoleon was reluctant to submit to this
religious marriage, but Josephine's entreaties and the exigencies
of her solemn coronation as empress induced him to yield.

NAPOLEON URGES " STATE REASONS " AS GROUND FOR DIVORCE.

Although the emperor afterwards affected to look upon the
recognition of his divorce and remarriage as a matter of course,
there is abundant proof that he had always foreseen the diffi-
culties in his way. Precedents were dug up, loop-holes were
looked for ; nothing, in short, was left untried by him to find a
justification in the eyes of the church. During his return from
Bayonne, in the spring of 1808, he had received a deputation
consisting of the archbishop and clergy of Bordeaux, and dur-
ing the conversation the question of divorce was introduced by
Napoleon. " Man cannot put asunder what God has joined
together," said the vicar-general in answer to an argument of
Napoleon. "Yes, yes," returned the emperor sharply, "that is
true in ordinary cases without it there would be no stability in
the institution of marriage but it cannot hold when the inter-
ests of the state are at issue." His interlocutor assured him
that no distinction was admitted, and Napoleon, in anger, began
to cite a number of instances in Poland, Hungary, etc., where
the church had pronounced for divorce. The president of
Bordeaux Seminary was standing close by, and the emperor
turned to him for corroboration. But the president proved to
be a staunch churchman as well as a sound theologian, and
replied that the cases cited were simply declarations of nullity

1895.] BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS.

'47

ab initio there had been no marriage. Two results followed
from this encounter : the archbishop received orders within a
few days to dismiss the president and vicar-general, and
Napoleon devoted all his efforts to prove that his marriage with
Josephine had been null and void from the beginning.

THE POPE, JEROME BONAPARTE, AND MISS PATTERSON.

That the whole question belonged to the jurisdiction of
the pope Napoleon knew perfectly, but he was equally
aware that whatever concessions he might hope to obtain from
Pius, this would never be one of them ; the knowledge had
been forced upon him by the pope's refusal to annul the mar-
riage between Jerome Bonaparte and Miss Patterson. Nothing
remained, therefore, but to obtain, if possible, the sanction of
the local ecclesiastical authority. Josephine and Napoleon
accordingly presented their case before the diocesan court,
alleging several and somewhat contradictory grounds of nullity.
The board at first refused to consider the case on the plea that
it had no jurisdiction ; but the objection was overruled, and a
decision of nullity arrived at on the ground that Napoleon's
marriage had not been celebrated in accordance with the essen-
tial requirements of Trent. The diocesan sentence was at once
used as a lever for moving the metropolitan authority, and
three days later this too pronounced in favor of nullity this
time, however, on the ground that Napoleon had not given a
proper consent.

It is useless to deny that both sentences were a lamentable
proof of weakness. The theological question could scarcely
present a difficulty to an intelligent Catholic school-boy. The
diriment impediment had been removed by dispensation, the
emperor's consent had been freely and clearly expressed, and
finally neither diocesan nor metropolitan court possessed a shred
of jurisdiction in the case.

Doubtless Napoleon would not have gone to all this trouble
to obtain such a palpably weak sanction for his second mar-
riage had he persevered in his original intention of an alliance
with a Russian princess, of the schismatic church. But he had
now set his heart or his mind on Marie-Louise, and a canonical
decision was necessary to meet the feelings of the Catholic
house of Austria. Indeed, the Emperor Francis had openly
declared that he would never consent to the marriage until the
divorce had been granted by the church.

148 BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. [May,

LOCAL SANCTION HIS ONLY HOPE.

If the decisions already given scarcely fulfilled such an exi-
gency, it must be said that Napoleon's agents made the most
of them. The difficulty of approaching the Holy Father was
advanced as a reason for claiming jurisdiction for the local
courts and, in short, Francis was content so long as appear-
ances were saved. Some trouble was still threatened by the
Archbishop of Vienna, who refused to publish the bans in his
diocese ; but he was powerless outside his own province, and
publication in Vienna, was dispensed from by Cardinal Maury,
who, in spite of the pope's positive prohibition, had now
assumed the title and office of Archbishop of Paris. Thus
everything seemed to be smooth for the new alliance when sud-
denly a note of opposition arose from whence it was least
expected, and the history of the Black Cardinals began.

THE CHURCH A BRANCH OF THE STATE.

In his vast scheme of centralization Napoleon designed Paris
to be the capital of the conquered world. After imprisoning
the Holy Father he had insisted on transferring thither the
Papal insignia and archives, and had forced the College of Car-
dinals to make their abode there ; partly, no doubt, to aug-
ment the splendor of his court, but principally that he might be
able to control the potent influence of the church. For the
emperor's purpose it was necessary that the cardinals should be
enabled to live in a style suitable to their dignity, and to this
end he allowed them a yearly pension of 30,000 francs ($6,000).
As he had already confiscated their patrimonies he could well
afford to do this, and they might fairly regard it as partial
restitution ; but Napoleon took no pains to conceal the fact
that he considered them as his salaried servants, and many of
the cardinals refused to touch his money.

The difficult situation of the church forced them to submit
to their humiliating position in Paris, and their general acqui-
escence in Napoleon's treatment of them lulled him into the
conviction that he was entire master of their principles as well
as of their persons and property. While the divorce proceedings
were pending he ignored them altogether, but he remembered
them in time to require their presence at the nuptials. Accord-
ingly they received four invitations for the four marriage func-
tions the presentation at St. Cloud, the civil contract, the re-
ligious ceremony, and the solemn reception at the Tuileries.
Hinc illce lacrymce.

1895.] BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. 149

What were they to do ? The .diocesan decision they knew to
be worthless, and their presence at the religious ceremony would
be not unnaturally construed as an approval of it. Scylla on
one side ; on the other the Charybdis of the emperor's heavy
wrath not only against themselves but against the pope and
church. Time was pressing, and at Consalvi's suggestion the
cardinals agreed to meet at his hotel to discuss the difficulty.

THE CARDINALS PROTEST.

Cardinal Somaglia, the pope's vicar-general, was the first to
raise his voice in defence of principle. He was prepared to
yield as far as conscience would allow, but on no consideration
would he consent to give the sanction of his presence to what
he knew to be an unlawful marriage. The question was
debated far into the night, and resulted in an almost equal
division of votes. All the cardinals recognized the invalidity of
the second marriage, but of the twenty-seven present fourteen
felt justified in attending even the religious function. Their
presence, they argued, did not involve their sanction. The re-
maining thirteen decided not to assist at either the civil or
religious ceremony. They made known their decision to Cardinal
Fesch, and, in spite of his entreaties and remonstrances, refused
to move from their decision.

Meanwhile the rumors of unexpected resistance reached the
emperor. He took little notice of them beyond commissioning
Fouche, then at the head of police, to interview the refractory
cardinals. Fouche" repeated the arguments of Fesch, but failed
to shake their constancy. They were indeed willing to attend
the function of civil marriage, as the church held it to be of
no importance, if this would satisfy the emperor. Fouche" gave
no guarantee, the cardinals retreated to their first position, and
so matters stood till the crisis.

On Saturday, March 31, the official presentation took place
at St. Cloud. A few cardinals were absent through illness or
other good reason ; the main body attended. On the following
day the civil contract was signed, but among the crowd of
ambassadors, ministers, and high officers that thronged the gal-
leries only twelve purple robes were to be seen. Fesch was
there, of course ; Maury, once Napoleon's greatest opponent,
now his most subservient courtier; and with them the two
Dorias, Spina, Albani, Caselli, Ruffo, Tondarini, Vincenti, Erskine,
and Roverello.

150 BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. [May,

A SKELETON AT THE FEAST.

April 2 was the day fixed for the solemn entrance into
Paris of the allied kings and princes, and the ceremony of re-
ligious marriage. The French capital throbbed with excitement
and enthusiasm. From the barrier of Neuilly to the gates of
the Tuileries two flashing lines of troops kept back the surging,
glory-mad throng that "came to see great Caesar pass." Within
the chapel there was scarcely standing-room for the brilliant
guests. It. was indeed the acme of Napoleon's glory. And yet
the thorn was under the rose. When the emperor with his
quick, nervous step left the crowded halls amid thunders of
applause, those who knew him could see the frown on his face
grow blacker and they knew the reason. Indeed, while the
chapel was thronged in all other parts, sixteen empty seats im-
mediately on the right of the altar stood out in ugly contrast.
The protest was at once crushing and unmistakable. Three
cardinals were absent through illness ; thirteen had sent no ex-
cuse Mattei, Pignatelli, Scotti, Somaglia, Consalvi, Brancadoro,
Saluzzo, Galefri, Litta, Ruffo-Scilla, Oppizioni, Gabrielli, and Di
Pietro.

They had asserted their principle, but having done so, they
were now ready to " render unto Caesar the things that are
Caesar's," and attended in a body the solemn reception at the
Tuileries.

LEAD AS A CANONICAL ARGUMENT.

In the first paroxysm of his anger Napoleon had spoken
about having the cardinals shot for their contumacy, but night
and counsel changed his plans.

On the reception day the Tuileries was crowded with the
emperor's guests. Hour after hour passed by in waiting until
about five o'clock in the evening. Then an aide-de-camp ap-
peared, but before admitting the expectant throng to the
imperial presence, he announced in a loud voice that the
emperor declined to recpive the cardinals who had absented
themselves from the marriage ; they were ordered to withdraw
from the palace. The insulted prelates filed down the grand
staircase in silence. At the foot another indignity awaited them
their carriages and servants had been dismissed by the
emperor's commands. To complete the day's lesson, Napoleon
admitted the other cardinals and lavished on their absent col-
leagues a tirade of abuse in which Oppizioni and Consalvi were
singled out for especial opprobrium Consalvi because he was

1895.] BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. 151

the most outspoken of the absentees, and Oppizioni because all
his dignities had been conferred through the mediation of
Napoleon.

NAPOLEON AS " BOSS."

On the following day (April 4) Bigot de Preameneu, the
minister of worship, received the following imperial communica-
tion : " Several cardinals, though invited, did not attend my
marriage. I desire to know the names of these cardinals and
to ascertain which of them have bishoprics in France, in my
Italian kingdom, or in the kingdom of Naples. It is my inten-
tion to dismiss these individuals and to stop the payment of
their allowance, not considering them cardinals any longer. You
will report, etc."

In sending the required list Bigot omitted the name of
Monsignor della Somaglia, but if this was a ruse to separate the
most powerful of the culprits from his colleagues, it was foiled
by the cardinal's firmness. He insisted on sharing the fate as
well as the feelings of his colleagues.

The receipt of the black list by Napoleon resulted in the
following orders : " The minister of worship will summon to his
hotel the cardinals who, without the excuse of illness, failed to
attend the ceremony of religious marriage. The minister will
tell them that without the pope they are nothing, and in any
case in which they might possess jurisdiction the minority are
bound to obey the majority ; that his majesty has seen in their
present conduct the same spirit of rebellion which they have
displayed for the last ten years, which has obliged his majesty
to take Rome, and which has stimulated them to induce the
pope to fulminate against him an excommunication that is the
laughing-stock of the present time and will be not less so that
of posterity." . . . The letter ends : " It is because they are
considered already condemned that they shall be no longer per-
mitted to wear ecclesiastical distinctions or the cardinal's dress."

DIGNIFIED PROTEST OF THE BLACK CARDINALS.

In fulfilment of these instructions a circular was at once
issued by Bigot ordering the cardinals to meet him at his office
at nine o'clock the same evening. Fouche" was the only other
official present. Bigot made known the emperor's commands,
and Consalvi protested against the charges of rebellion and dis-
affection. During Bigot's address and Consalvi's remonstrances
Fouche had spoken no word. Now, however, he came forward
as the well-meaning friend of both parties. The emperor had

152 BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. [May,

misconstrued their action. Why could they not draw up a
statement explaining that their absence had not that extreme
significance attached to it by the emperor? It was an unfor-
tunate misunderstanding and might be set right by a few words.
Bigot joined Fouch in persuasion and the bait took. The car-
dinals were urged to lose no time, as the emperor would leave
Paris on the following day.

After a deliberation lasting over five hours the cardinals
drew up a document in which they disclaimed all rebellious pur-
poses their absence was due to the non-intervention of the pope
in the annulling of the first marriage they did not set them-
selves up as judges nor to pronounce doubts on the validity of
the dissolution or the legitimacy of the children who might be
born ; but there was no mention of an apology, no admission
of regret for their action. The discussion lasted well into the
night, and at daybreak Cardinal Litta hastened to present the
document to Napoleon, through the mediation of De Preameneu.
The minister took the document without comment, read it, ex-
pressed himself satisfied with its tenor but, unfortunately, the
emperor had left Paris during the night and no choice was left
him but to obey orders.

THE CARDINALS BANISHED.

What the orders were soon became apparent. In a few days
the government sequestrated all goods belonging to the Black
Cardinals, the government allowance was stopped, and finally,
on June 13, a police order was issued commanding them to
leave Paris within twenty-four hours for specified destinations in
the east of France. Money was provided for the journey, and
they were to receive an allowance of fifty dollars a month for
their support. The munificent provision was not accepted.

Continuous intercourse between the cardinals became hence-
forth impossible. They were scattered and placed under the
vigilance of the police. While as a rule two cardinals were
assigned to each town, care was taken to separate those who
had lived together in Paris ; and as some old notes were oppor-
tunely discovered recalling the fact that a difference of opinion
had existed between Mattei and Pignatelli it was considered
piquant to have them live together.

THE CARDINALS NOT WITHOUT FRIENDS.

This sudden change of life could not be other than trying.
Few of the cardinals spoke French, most of them were well ad-
vanced in years. The bishops of the dioceses in which they were

1 895-] BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. 153

lodged were, with one exception, too much in awe of Napoleon to
compromise their position by an excessive display of kindliness to
the exiles. The clergy followed their example, and as time
went on their negative attitude developed into sullen hostility.
Napoleon took care to let them know that he construed friend-
ship for the cardinals as enmity to himself.

But the cardinals were not without friends. Many of the
neighboring nobility refused to be cowed by the emperor's an-
ger." On the day of their departure from Paris a society was
established to supply funds to the exiled and beggared princes
of the church. The government soon became aware of the new
association ; suspected members were subjected to the closest
espionage, the cardinals were examined by the sub-prefects of
their districts, the activity of the police was redoubled, and nu-
merous arrests were made. Relations with the pope .or the
Black Cardinals were now recognized as sufficient cause for im-
prisonment or banishment.

Still the movement grew apace, enlarging its original purpose
and affording not only monetary assistance to the pope, the
Black Cardinals, and the impoverished clergy of Belgium, but
providing the means of communication between Pius and his
court. Even the Red Cardinals, as they were called, including
Fesch, came to the assistance of their colleagues. Maury alone
refused worse still, betrayed his own clergy for complicity in
the movement.

Meanwhile the pope's position at Savona had been going
from bad to worse. His health, always feeble, began to give
way utterly as the tide of misfortune rose higher and higher
about the church. Deprived of his advisers, surrounded by spies
who watched his every movement, and continually besieged by
the ecclesiastical partisans of Napoleon, it is no wonder that he
began to consider the advisability of abating his just claims. In
May, 1 8 10, the Chevalier Lebzeltern offered him the mediation of
Austria, but he declined to act without the assistance of his
court. Cardinals Spina and Caselli, in July, urged him to give
way; and in the spring of 1811 the bishops of Tours, Nantes,
and Treves made a joint representation begging him to yield,
for the peace of the church, on the question of the canonical
institution of the French bishops. None of these influenced him,
and the first sign of yielding was not given until he consented
to confirm the decisions of the so-called National Council held
at Paris from June to August of 1811. But his concession was
useless ; Napoleon refused to accept it.

154 BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. [May,

BONAPARTE'S VENGEANCE.

At the beginning of the same year the Abb d'Astros was
arrested. The examination of his papers led to the discovery
that he, in conjunction with Padre Fontana and Monsignor de
Gregorio, had been for some time charged by the pope with the
administration of the ecclesiastical affairs of Paris under the
superintendence of Cardinal di Pietro. Napoleon's anger knew
no bounds when he discovered that the pope's opposition to
Maury had been practically enforced. Di Pietro, who was
credited, incorrectly as it happened, with having published the
excommunication of Napoleon, was at once thrown into prison.
His companions in exile at Semur, Cardinals Gabrielli and Oppi-
zioni, on refusing to give evidence against him, were imprisoned,
as well as Fontana and De Gregorio. The sword of Damocles
hung above the other exiled cardinals, but they were allowed to
pursue the monotonous routine of their life.

The news of the pope's removal to Fontainebleau was not
calculated to give them satisfaction, nor were the rumors of the
attempts made to influence him. On January I, 1813, the em-
peror made friendly advances to his captive. Smarting under
the Russian disaster, Napoleon felt it necessary to use all his
efforts to bring to an end his war with the church but on his
own terms. Throughout January all the devices of diplomacy
were brought to bear on Pius, with the result that the pontiff
consented on the 3ist to accept what is now known as the
" Concordat of 1813 " as a basis of settlement. One condition,
however, he insisted on : until the Black Cardinals were released
and at liberty to consult with him he would not ratify the
treaty.

THE CONCORDAT AND THE CARDINALS.

Napoleon was forced to give way, and within a few weeks
the pope was once more surrounded by his natural court. His
first act was to select five cardinals as intimate counsellors they
were all Black. This and other indications showed Napoleon
the parlous plight of his unratified Concordat, and he deter-
mined on a characteristic coup which would be likely to make
the pope's retreat difficult if not impossible. With the view of
influencing public opinion he broke his promise to keep secret
the terms of the proposed arrangement.

The deliberations at Fontainebleau went on. If the terms of
the present arrangement were sufficiently bad, the cardinals soon

1895.] BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. 155

learned how far Napoleon had wished to drive the pope when
they saw the draft of the conditions originally insisted on. They
ran as follows :

I. The popes before their coronation will swear to ordain
nothing against the four Gallican propositions.

II. They will for the future have the right of nominating
only one-third of the cardinals, the remaining two-thirds devolv-
ing on Catholic sovereigns.

III. The Holy Father will issue a brief condemning the con-
duct of the Black Cardinals.

IV. Cardinals Pacca and Di Pietro will be excluded from all
amnesty and not allowed to approach the pope.

It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that such terms would
have been a death-blow to the independence of the church.

In the discussion of the present treaty opinions were at first
divided, even a few of the Black Cardinals being in favor of
accepting the treaty in substance. The rest, whose views finally
prevailed, urged the immediate rejection of the treaty. Pius was
only too glad to endorse their decision, and they were ordered
to draw up a letter for the emperor, to be afterwards copied
by his own hand.

POLICE ESPIONAGE OVER THE POPE.

The story of the difficulties attending the composition of this
important document reads like a page of romance. Every move-
ment of the pope and cardinals was watched and reported by
Napoleon's spies. The prelates could not confer in the palace
and were obliged to hold their meetings, with the utmost pre-
caution, in the rooms of a sick cardinal. When the letter was
drawn up the pontiff began to copy it, but so feeble and bro-
ken was he, and so carefully watched by Napoleon's agents, that
he could not write more than half a dozen lines each day.
Every morning, while he heard or celebrated Mass, a police
agent visited his rooms, opened the bureaus with duplicate keys
and searched among the pope's documents. The letter was,
therefore, never left in his possession over night. Consalvi and
Di Pietro brought it with them every morning, the pope wrote
a few lines, the letter was taken away and transferred to Pacca,
who brought it again in the evening, when the same process
was repeated. At last the long and important document was
copied in full, and entrusted, on March 24, to Colonel Lagorsse
for immediate delivery to the emperor.

It was a severe blow to Napoleon in his thickening difficul-

156 BONAPARTE AND THE BLACK CARDINALS. [May,

ties, but he had no intention of accepting such a reverse quietly.
Days passed and no intimation came to Fontainebleau that the
letter had reached its destination. But a change was immediately
apparent in the treatment of the pope and cardinals. The crowds
that had thronged around the pontiff were no longer admitted ;
the cardinals were refused permission to speak with him on
business, and on the night of April 5 Cardinal di Pietro was
taken from his bed, conducted by a police official to Ausonne,
where he was once more deprived of the purple and kept under
the strictest surveillance. The "Concordat of 1813" was de-
clared a law of the empire, and the pope and cardinals freely
accused of tergiversation and bad faith.

EXIT BONAPARTE ; RE-ENTER CARDINALS.

The remaining facts are open history. Napoleon restored
Pius to his dominions when he could no longer hold them, but
hostile to the last to the Black Cardinals, he exiled most of
them a second time. His abdication at Fontainebleau set them
free again, and they were welcomed with transport at Paris
even Talleyrand congratulating himself that he was privileged to
be instrumental in obtaining freedom for them.

Even in the solitude of Elba, when the world had slipped
from his grasp, Napoleon never forgave the Black Cardinals,
ranking them to the end as his bitterest enemies. Enemies they
were indeed in a sense, but not bitter or personal ones. Their
courage and perseverance were given to the church when she
sorely needed both, but in all their persecution they betrayed
no resentment against Napoleon. Beati qui persecutionem patiuntur
pro justitia.

i8 9 5-]

LE PERE PHILIPPE.

157

LE PERE PHILIPPE.

BY MARY BOYLE O'REILLY.

E bon Dieu vo.us beni," murmured le Pere Philippe,
laying his hand gently on the head of little
Myrtle ; and as she shyly answered, " Merci, mon
pere," he continued in the soft Franco-Indian
patois :

" And now, my little one, hasten to gather bright blossoms
that the shrine may be dressed for the morrow." And happily
important, away sped the little Myrtle to perform no easy task,
for few flowers were to be found so far north in early May,
and well knew le Pere Philippe that the shrine would again be
decked with tall, tree-like bouquets of brilliantly dyed straw flow-
ers before which nature's sweet handiwork would fade in very
shame.

Down the straggling village street slowly went le Pere
Philippe, his tall, slight figure clothed in a close-fitting black
soutane. Past the scattered shanties that sheltered his little
flock, past the barely cultivated tracts of. land from which they
drew their scanty supply of cereals, through the dark, cool wood
where the foot of the trespasser sank noiselessly on a cushion
of mouldering leaves, and out again into the sunlight that flooded
the bold face of the cliff. There the sad eyes were lifted from
the open book, and looked over the sparkling waters of the
broad river, gazing wistfully eastward to the far-away beautiful
land of his birth. That land which had been all sunlight and
gladness and love, with never a cloud to dim the brightness of
the long days as he roamed the woods with his gun and dogs,
struggled with his books and his tutor in the great library of
his father's house, or dashed through the streets of the little
town at a mad gallop, causing sundry worthy dames to peer at
him as he passed and exclaim with uplifted eyes and hands,
that " monsieur's eldest son was a wild youth and would come
to no good end " ; and always beside him, inseparable as his
shadow, ally in all ventures, imitator in all pranks, was his only
brother Alec, his junior by five years. Unlike as it was possible
for brothers to be were the swarthy, black-eyed Philippe and
the gentle younger son.

158 LE PERE PHILIPPE. [May,

" Philippe must be sent away to school ; he is leading my
delicate boy into positive danger," wailed the mother plaintively.

" Tush, tush, Louisa ! he will but toughen the lad ; make him
strong and manly, not a statuette with yellow curls," replied the
big, bluff father, watching his boys on the lawn as they brand-
ished long swords stolen from the library. But alas, alas! for
Philippe : even as the parents looked the fun grew fast and
furious, until, carried away with excitement, Philippe dealt his
more timid opponent a heavy blow on the brow.

With a cry of pain the child fell back, and in an instant
Philippe knelt beside him in an agony of remorseful terror.
Only for a moment then he was roughly pushed aside by an irate
father, who caught the boy in his arms and carried him swiftly
to the house. And then came days that the boy now grown
to manhood could never forget. Days when his grief-stricken
mother passed him with averted face, on her way to the room
where learned men held daily consultation about the little bed.

No one spoke to him no one seemed to see him. Even the
dogs in the court-yard avoided him, and from the servants noth-
ing could be learned save that Alec was still alive. And so one
day the heart-broken boy found courage to creep softly into the
sick-room. There were a great many people present, and it was
some time ere he caught a glimpse of Alec, poor, gentle little
Alec, his white face almost ghastly beneath a wreath of ban-
dages. It was awfully quiet as one of the doctors spoke, in a
grave, low voice :

" Unless something unforeseen occur the boy will live, but he
will lose his sight."

" Are you sure ? "

" We are well-nigh certain, monsieur."

With down-bent head the stricken father turned away only
to encounter the wretched cause of all this agony.

" Is that you, Philippe ? " he thundered, forgetful of the little
invalid " you who have succeeded in spoiling a brother's life !
Leave my sight, miserable boy, and never let me see you again."

The passionate words sank deep into the aching heart, and
Philippe interpreted the speech literally. Not until years after,
when vainly searching for his parents in the place he had once
called home, did he know of the terror-stricken search, the wide-
spread inquiry, and the passionate grief that followed his flight.

All this and more was in the mind of the man who stood
gazing into the sunlit river ; and so deep in revery was he that
he did not see coming out of the woods the tall, gaunt figure of

1895.] LE PERE PHILIPPE. 159

an Indian woman whose dishevelled hair fell about her bowed
shoulders and half hid her sunken cheeks, while from her parted
lips came a weird, guttural sound which shaped itself into the
rhythm of a rude improvisation. With stealthy rapidity she ad-
vanced until she seized his arm, crying :

" Can you see him ? Can you see him, coming in the flying
canoe? It is time he returned. There was little light when he
left, and now the light is going. Oh ! when will he be here ? "

" Hush, hush ! my child," murmured the priest soothingly ;
" wait yet a little. I cannot see him now, but the sun has not
yet set ; perhaps

" But it is so long," moaned the poor mad creature ; " it is
so long, and the storm that came from the sea, and the boy
that was a babe is now a man ; he must come soon ! " And again
she wailed with the passionate, blood-chilling lament of an In-
dian widow.

" We must wait in patience, my child, and some day he will
come back for you."

" For me ! " she cried in an ecstasy of delight " come back
for me ? It is true ! le pere has said it. He will come back for
me "; and as swiftly as she had come she disappeared.

" Lord, give her peace," murmured le Pere Philippe; "she has
been faithful for twenty years."

Slowly the sun set, throwing dark shadows to meet the soli-
tary man on his homeward way. It was wonderfully tranquil in
the usually noisy street ; the mingled sounds from the households
were blended and softened ere they reached the ear.

" Here comes le pere ! " cried a girl's shrill voice, as he reached
his own enclosure, and a score of black-eyed, copper-skinned
children sprang up to greet him. Then began the little even-
ing ceremony which had done more to soften and civilize these
wild young natures than many years of patient endeavor. With
twenty pairs of eyes fastened on his face, and twenty pairs of
eager feet stayed to his slow tread, they moved about the little
garden which was not his but theirs.

" Another bud on your rose-tree, Marie ; ah ! but that is good
indeed ; and your corn, John, who ever saw better grown corn
so early? and Nichola's potatoes without a weed among them,
that is like my patient Nichola ; and the blue eyes already
bloomed for the feast day. But how came this destruction ? " he
asked sternly, looking from a trampled garden to the circle of
children. No one spoke, but a dozen accusing eyes glanced
stealthily at the culprit, who stood silent and stolid.

160 LE PERE PHILIPPE. [May,

" How did this happen ? " repeated le pere ; " can there be
anger and strife among you? Marie, I trust you will tell me."

"O mon pere!" answered the girl, "it was not Jean's fault;
but because of his brother, who has quarrelled with Peter's
brother about about Myrtle Nichola

" That will do," interrupted le pere sadly ; " and now we will
have the story."

" Ah ! " exclaimed the children in gratified chorus, throwing
themselves with native grace on the grass at his feet.

" Let me see," mused le Pere Philippe, " of what was the
story last night ? "

" Of the ass of Balaam, the prophet," cried the children to-
gether.

" Good ! and to-night it will be of the faithful white-winged
dove that flew back to the good Noe over the flood." And
in the hush of the coming twilight the beautiful story was told.
A sighing breath from the children ended the little sermon, and
with one accord they rose and went quietly homeward. Not so
le Pere Philippe, who had heard enough to make him anxious.
" They are but children, passionate, untamed children a curious
mixture of wisdom and ignorance ; ah, me ! I fear we may
Christianize but not civilize them," he mused, and walking
swiftly he noticed that the groups about each doorway seemed
strangely excited. At his approach a constrained silence fell on
the people such silence as falls on children caught in some act
of mischief.

Straight to John Nichola's house and through the low, dark
doorway went le Pere Philippe, into the common living room,
which reeked with fumes of tobacco and cookery, the odor of
tanning furs, with here and there a suggestion of sweet grass,
and herbs, and onions.

On an old lounge lay the lord of the manor silent and taci-
turn, while his over-worked, scrawny wife glanced anxiously
from the recumbent form to the girl who sat staring angrily
into the fire.

" I have come," said le pere quietly, smiling as he accepted
the proffered seat.

" It is well," grunted the smoker, pipe in mouth, with an
expressive glance at his daughter.

" It has been a long drought ; when will the rain come ? "
inquired the visitor after a strained silence, skilfully appealing to
the pride of his weather-wise host.

" Before the moon is full."

1895.] LE PERE PHILIPPE. 161

" So soon ? John Atteau told me only yesterday not until
the wane."

" John Atteau will never see the wane," muttered the Indian.

"Indeed ! And why?"

" Has mon pere not heard ? "

" I have heard nothing," answered le Pere Philippe ; which
was, indeed, true enough.

" Go away ! " commanded the master to the women, who
slowly slunk out of the room.

" There has been death to-day in the village. John Atteau
killed Peter's son because of my girl. John Atteau has run
away, but there are those who will track him through the
forest "; and the Indian grimly returned to his pipe. Knowing
the Indian character as he did, le Pere Philippe asked no more,
but rose and left the house. Next morning he left the village.

" I must find John Atteau ere he come to harm," he resolved,
forgetting in his eagerness that the haunts of men are not so
easy of investigation as the paths of his beloved forest ; and,
heedless of all save the fugitive, he patiently journeyed on.
There was but one road to travel, for the runaway would un-
doubtedly seek refuge in the nearest city, where crimes like his
were more likely to pass unknown and unpunished. Sometimes a
lumberman offered a lift on the journey and was filled with won-
derment at the conversation of his fellow-traveller, or a settler gave
a night's shelter, feeling amply repaid by the wealth of forest lore
he received ; again, an Indian shared his canoe with the revered
black robe, going many miles out of his way with dignified cour-
tesy ; and so at last le Pere Philippe reached the city. Then for a
moment his heart sank. Was this huge settlement, that resounded
a very Babel, the little town he had left but a score of years
before ? Could he have come a hundred weary miles in vain ?
" This is the inn," announced his last conductor with abashed
air, noting the consternation of his companion.

" My good, innocent children," murmured le Pere Philippe,
passing the crowded bar on his way to the office. " I have but
little, little " he had almost forgotten the word " I have but
little money," he said to the innkeeper, placing his solitary gold
piece on the counter; and ere that astonished individual could
collect himself he continued, "Have you heard aught of John
Atteau ? I have come to find him."

" I know no such man," answered the innkeeper, pocketing
the money ; " but you can have a bed."

And so le Pere Philippe was domiciled and the search be-

VOL LXI. II

162 LE PERE PHILIPPE. [May,

gan. Instinctively he kept to the lower portions of the town,
and many a revel was suddenly broken by the silent appearance
of le Pere Philippe. This failing, he turned to the residential
quarter, and day and night the search went on, for the thought
of the fatherless village left small desire for rest.

One stormy night, in the midst of wind and rain, le Pere
Philippe went slowly through the dismal streets, peering eagerly
into the down-bent faces of the passers, and so intent that he
paid no heed to a rapidly driven carriage which drew up to the
curb, and as the door was flung back he reeled under the stun-
ning blow. Out sprang a man who, as he supported the totter-
ing figure, offered his apologies for the careless haste which had
caused the mishap.

" Alec," exclaimed a sweet, clear voice as a lady emerged
from the carriage " Alec, will you not ask the gentleman "

" Alec," murmured the dazed man, as he looked at the hand-
some face bent anxiously above him.

" I fear, sir, you are severely hurt. Will you not come into
our house for a short rest ? My name is De Lansverdy."

" Mon Dieu, it is impossible ! " cried le Pere Philippe in a
harsh, strained voice " Alec de Lansverdy ! "

By this the trio stood in the entrance hall looking fixedly at
one another, and then the wife, with delicate kindness, stole softly
away, leaving the brothers alone ; for with the instinct of a lov-
ing heart she divined the meaning of the mystery, and felt that
their joy would be mingled with pain. Late into the night she
sat in her darkened room listening to the soft murmur of their
voices, broken sometimes by the dual tread. Toward morn-
ing her husband came to her, his handsome face grave and
pale.

" My love," he whispered, bending to kiss her tenderly, " he
is Philippe of whom I have told you ; but so changed, so old.
Will you come down to him ? "

"O Alec! I am so glad for him and for you," she answered
as together they descended the staircase.

" And this is my dear brother's wife," said le Pere Philippe
softly as he looked into the sweet upturned face ; " you will for-
give my abruptness of last night," he added with gentle cour-
tesy; "when I am gone Alec will tell you all."

"O mon Pere Philippe!" began the little wife; but he
softly interrupted :

" Nay, say no more : Alec will tell you all. I have been
more blessed than I deserve, and I must return to my good

1 895.] LE PERE PHILIPPE. ^3

children in the settlement, for they have missed me. Alec has
promised to do my task here."

" Can we not keep him, Alec ? " whispered the wife.

"It is impossible, dear heart; I have argued half the night.
His very soul is bound up in a parcel of savages," he answered
bitterly ; and then aloud : " Will you give us some coffee,
Marie?"

It was a sad and silent meal, yet over all too soon. " Good-
by, my dear sister," murmured le Pere Philippe. "Alec good-
by " ; only a long, strong hand-clasp, but the two men looked
steadily into each other's eyes and the bitter past was forgotten.
Then le Pere Philippe, with stumbling steps and down-bent
head, went swiftly from the room.

" O Alec ! " sobbed the little wife as she watched him from
the window, " his heart is broken in going back."

" Such a night to send for you, mon pere, and you just home ;
and for what ? Not a reasonable Christian, but a woman crazy
for twenty years," grumbled the old housekeeper as she delivered
Jean's message,

" Not a word," said le pere sternly, and in five minutes he
stood in the sick-room. On a low bed, little more than a pal-
let of straw, lay the dying woman seemingly in a troubled sleep,
moving restlessly at times as she moaned and murmured, The
superstitious Indians had fled at the approach of death, and
only one woman sat by the bedside, while an old squaw cowered
muttering in a corner. " Le bon Dieu vous beni," murmured le
Pere Philippe as he crossed the threshold, and at the sound the
solitary watcher raised her head, disclosing the pale wan face of
Myrtle Nichola.

" Shall I go away, mon pere ? " she asked meekly.

" Remain, my child. I am glad to find you here ; it is good
to serve the dying."

" Merci, mon pere," she answered, and for a long time no
more was said, while the old squaw ceased her muttering and
the young girl rendered many womanly offices to the uncon-
scious woman. Would she awake in the last dread hour, or
drift out and over the dark river with mind still clouded and
reason gone ? This was the thought uppermost in the minds of
the watchers, when quietly the sleeper waked and looked about
her with dim uncertain eyes.

"Do you know me?" asked le Pere Philippe, bending toward
her, but she did not hear.

164 LE PERE PHILIPPE. [May,

" It is very dark," she murmured, trying to push an imagi-
nary veil from her face, while Myrtle placed an oil-lamp close
to the bed ; but still the querulous voice continued.

"It is dark, dark, dark; oh! why is it so dark?" and a low
sobbing as of a frightened child filled the room.

" Hush, hush ! " whispered the girl ; " it is not dark and we
are all here le pere, and Mary, and I." Gradually the sobbing
ceased and the dying woman lay quite still for a moment, and
then

" What is that ? " she cried, sitting up with sudden strength ;
" hush, what is that ? Oh ! I hear the whispering of the river,
and the swish, swish of the paddle, and a canoe, a canoe of the
bark of the birch-tree flies over the waves "; and as she spoke
her voice rose to a pitch of piercing sweetness, her eyes lit up,
and her trembling arms were extended in an ecstasy of 'impa-
tient delight, " and oh, my husband ! my husband ! he is com-
ing for me ; it has been so long ; the babe in my arms is a man,
and he has come for me. At last ! at last ! at last ! "

The glad cry ended in a faint whisper as she fell back on
her pillow.

" She is dead," whispered le Pere Philippe to the terror-
stricken girl ; " le bon Dieu has been very good."

A death in the settlement usually furnished topics of con-
versation for a fortnight; not so Peona Salta's. No one save
the watchers knew of the last weird scene, and with the rising
of another sun her tragic life was all forgotten and the settle-
ment was in a ferment of excitement. Men in their eagerness
forgot to relight their everlasting pipes, and discussed the news
in the village street. Women were seized with an uncontrollable
desire to borrow or lend, assist or ask advice out of their own
cabins ; and all because the rumor crept about that John Atteau
was returning. No authority could be discovered, and while the
braves grew heated in argument to prove the tale a fable, the
women pointed with knowing air to Myrtle Nichola's happy
face; and so it came to pass that when the girl crept down to
the river's brink at nightfall, half the village followed stealthily
to see the meeting of the lovers.

" Le bon Dieu vous beni," murmured le Pere Philippe as he
passed them in the moonlight by the river.

1895.] A CORNER OF ACADIE. !6 5

A CORNER OF ACADIE.

BY M. A. TAGGART.

HE primitive red stage bounced and bowled down
the hard road, its black leather curtains flapping
in the wind. A cloud of dust arose behind it,
in which the inevitable yellow dog, rushing out
from each house to bark at it, became lost to
sight, and little bare-legged children hung on gates, and tall,
thin women looked out of windows, all speculating on what
could bring the stage out of its course, as they watched it go by.
Viewed from an artistic and exterior point of view, it was an
interesting survival of ante-railway days ; but that was not the
point of view of those who for thirty miles had been tossed by
its unspringing springs, and we were glad to see our youthful
driver rein up before a small house, sitting attractively back in
the fields which continued past it down to the water's edge.

This was West Pubnico, our destination, in a sense an undis-
covered country, for as it is off the road to " all wheres," to
quote an old man of the region, one going there goes with full
determination. Since there are not many who know of its ex-
istence, those who take this determination are necessarily few ;
thus it is to the traveller from the States an undiscovered country.
One reaches it by the steamer to Yarmouth, thence by
coach to Pubnico. The thirty mile drive is a very pleasant
one, although the stage is of such a primitive stamp. The road
is good, and lies past a succession of beautiful lakes, wooded to
their shores and dotted with islands. Coming as we did in the
middle of June, the orchards were white with blossoms, the
lilacs just bursting forth, the violets blooming by the wayside,
all of which emphasized the fact that we had stepped back a
month in the season.

A northern aspect is given to the country by the absence of
any trees except varieties of spruce, hemlocks, pines, and other
evergreens hardy enough to bear the climate. The hackmatack,
as the tamarack, or larch, is called here, breaks with its feathery
bright green upon the dull browns, olives, and dark greens of
the other trees, and the long moss sways in the wind from the
trunks of the patriarchs:

166 A CONNER OF ACADIE. [May,

" The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,

Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the
twilight,

Stand, like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms."

West Pubnico is a point of land eight miles long by one
and a half wide. Its western shore is washed by the waters of
the beautiful Argyle Bay, or Lobster Bay, which is really the
ocean making up into the land. It is said to lap in its embrace
three hundred and sixty-five islands, but as this is the regula-
tion number it is not necessary to pin one's faith to the absolute
correctness of the statement ; let us say three hundred and sixty-
seven fir-clad, rocky, and beautifully irregular islets, around
which the surf breaks in a perpetual murmur, mingling with the
sighing of the pines, but with no other sound except the cry of
the sea-birds. Anything more grandly desolate than the shore
of West Pubnico on Argyle Bay would be hard to fancy, and
while the solitude, the salt and balsam-laden air do their healing
work, over and over, as one stands alone on those rocks, the
line repeats itself:

" The wolf's lone howl on Oonolaska's shore."

Across the narrow strip of land lies the pretty harbor, fram-
ing the east shore of the point. Quite different from the ocean
side is this peaceful little sheet, its waters washing on all sides
cultivated fields.

The other shore across the harbor is East Pubnico, called
familiarly " the east side " ; at the end lies Pubnico Head, or
"the Head," and West Pubnico is known as "the west side,"
while as a sort of b to the third number on the programme is
Lower West Pubnico, by the dyke built after the return from
exile. Below this the point ends in the ocean, where again
silence reigns, only broken by the sound of voices when once a
day the men go there to purse the deep sea-trap off the end.

From the dyke up there is a close succession of small
houses, alike in architecture as in condition, for this is markedly
the hamlet of equalities.

It would be quite safe to go to any of these doors and
inquire if Mrs. d'Entremont were at home, for nearly every one
in Pubnico bears that name ; the Surettes, Amiraults, and
Duons being too few to more than add a slight zest of uncer-
tainty to the question.

i8 9 5.]

A CORNER OF Ac A DIE.

167

Between the upper end of the west side and the Head this
succession of houses abruptly ends, and between them and the
resumption of building, where Pubnico Head begins, stands a bit
of woodland, a line of demarcation which so far no one has
violated.

Those woods divide two races and religions, for the Head is
English, as is the upper part of the east side, while the west
side is Acadian of pure blood.

Unknown and insignificant as this little settlement is it has
its history, by no means an inglorious one the history of the
persecution of a peaceful people at the hands of brutal men,
who hated them for their race and religion, the history which

THE EAST SIDE, LOOKING WEST ; SITE OF THE CHATEAU D'ENTREMONT.

the best beloved of the American poets has made familiar in
" Evangeline."

It was in 1651 that Charles de La Tour, coming to take
possession of the half of Acadie which his majesty Louis XIV.,
whose lieutenant-general he was, had given him, brought with
him Philippe Mius d'Entremont, a gentleman of good family in
Normandy. Upon him De La Tour bestowed the lands which
are now Pubnico then called by a name of disputed origin,
from which the modern name is derived. He created him Baron
of Pobomcoup, at Cape Sable, and a Chateau d'Entremont was
built on the east side. This was a fief, held as all feudal
baronies were held, by the payment of an annual tribute, which
took the form of something described in the grant by Indian

1 68 A CORNER OF ACADIE. [May,

words no longer understood, and two bouquets of flowers on
the eve of St. John.

Philippe, the first D'Entremont, had three sons, two of whom
married the daughters of Charles de La Tour, and thus in the
veins of the fishermen of the present day, their lineal descen-
dants, runs noble blood of old France indeed, the tradition is
that the first D'Entremont had a strain of Bourbon blood.

Be that as it may, they increased and prospered, till many
houses had sprung up around the Chateau d'Entremont. Ami-
raults, and Duons, and a few others had joined them, the land
had been cleared to the head of the pretty harbor, and the thrift
and industry which ever characterized this upright race had
wrought its certain results, and though in a colder and more
sterile region than their kindred up the bay, in the basin
of Minas, they flourished as they did, and like them were
stricken.

It was in September, 1755, as all the world knows, that
Winslow accomplished his awful task in Grand Pre. Here for
many their knowledge of Acadian history stops, and they are
ignorant that for two years the work of destroying an innocent
people went on, amid suffering of which the story of Evangeline
does not give the alphabet.

It was in 1756 that the storm struck Pubnico. The Chateau
d'Entremont was burned and all the other dwellings.

The cruelties of Grand Pre were repeated ; quite without
necessity families were separated ; many of the D'Entremonts
were carried to England and France one, Marguerite, lay for
seven years in an English prison, and at last those whom the
ocean divided from land and kindred united at Cherbourg,
where their descendants are living to-day.

Jacques d'Entremont, the grandson of Charles de La Tour,
and his three sons, Joseph, Paul, and Benoni, were carried to
Boston. Here they fared better than many of their compatri-
ots, owing to an Englishman, or colonist, as he probably was,
whose life Jacques had saved from shipwreck not many years
before. This man happened to be on the wharf when the ves-
sel bearing the captives came into Boston, and remembering his
debt, he set about doing what he could to ameliorate the suffer-
ings of exile and poverty for him whom he had last seen the
prosperous head of a well-known family, whose roof had been
his shelter through the rigors of a long winter, when he had
been cast up friendless on an enemy's shore.

The Englishman led Jacques before Governor Shirley and

1895.] A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. 169

told him the story of his rescue, urging the influence he seems
to have possessed to obtain help for the exile.

The governor gave Jacques a watch, a suit of clothes, and a
sword-cane, and what was more, gave him the freedom of the
city, where, instead of sharing the starvation and confinement of
his fellow-Acadians, he went and came as he pleased, gaining an
honorable livelihood as accountant, for in those days of few
schools and poor instructors the D'Entremonts were well edu-
cated.

There lie before me letters, yellow with age, scarred with
their long journey to Pubnico, by way of Newfoundland, written
after the expulsion by those of the family who were in Cher-
bourg. The writing is beautifully clear, the composition good ;
they breathe in resignation the cry of longing for home, of
anguished desire to know whether those the writers loved were
alive, or had succumbed to their tortures ; they are eloquent of
poverty, but they prove the superiority of the D'Entremonts to
their surroundings, and substantiate the claim to gentle breeding.

The cane which the governor of Massachusetts gave to
Jacques d'Entremont is preserved in the house of one of his
descendants at Pubnico ; it lay across my knee while I copied
the following record made by his youngest son, Benoni, in the
back of an old law-book :

" Benoni ne 1745.

fussent amen< a la Nouvelle Angleterre 1756.

Jacques mort 1759.

Retour au Cap Sable 1766.

Premiere Communion 1769."

This shows that old Jacques d'Entremont lived but three
years in exile ; his body was laid to rest in Roxbury, and has
mouldered to dust apart from any of his race or kin.

When, ten years after the proscription, the three sons of
Jacques, accompanied by Amiraults and a Duon, filled with
longing for their native land, and the hope of finding again
their lost kindred who might have crept back to the old spot,
returned from exile to found a home where they might practise
their religion and speak their own tongue, they found what all
returned Acadians found, the English occupying the land their
fathers had cleared.

To their desire for national and religious distinctness West
Pubnico owes its origin, for hither they turned their faces and
made the clearings which grew into the present village. Before
the expulsion there had been what was for those days a large

1 70 A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. [May,

sum of money, and silver dishes, and skins, hidden in * the
ground the money on an island in Argyle (sometimes called
then Tusket) Bay, which bears to this day the name of Pile
cTargent.

The secret of this hidden treasure seems to have been best
known to those members of the family who had taken refuge
in Cherbourg. The letters are full of allusions to it, and direc-
tions how to obtain it. Misfortune in all forms bore heavily at
this time upon the D'Entremonts ; not only were they perse-
cuted by their enemies, but their friends betrayed them. One
Basil Bondiot, who knew the place of concealment of the money
which they so sorely needed, came to Acadia, unearthed the
treasure, and made off with the greater part ; a little escaped
him, and ultimately reached its owners.

Here is the first letter, dated Cherbourg, the twentieth of
April, 1773, when the news of the treachery seems just to have
reached the exiles. A free translation of the letter is as
follows :

" OUR VERY DEAR COUSINS : I have had the honor to receive
your letter, dated May 16, 1772, by which we learn that you enjoy
good health. We pray the Lord that the present will find you
in good and perfect state, as well as all your dear family, for
whom we wish all the good, and the blessings of Heaven and
earth, spiritual as well as temporal. We are much disturbed
that you do not speak of your dear brothers and sisters..

" As regards ourselves, my dear cousin, I cannot tell you the
sad and humiliating state to which misery has reduced us.
Always getting better, only to fall ill again, usually confined to
the bed. Always sorrow and grief in the heart, which over-
whelms us, and puts us in an inconceivable condition, (and we
suffer) from the poor food which we have in this country. Ah,
my dear cousins, what weeping, and what tears have been shed
by us in these fourteen years in which we have been in pain
and suffering, without any consolation ! Our allowance has been
reduced this year, we receive more (not more ?) than five, four,
and three sous a day. Judge whether one can live well on
that, and be able to earn nothing in this country, with every-
thing extraordinarily dear except water. I will not say more to
you of this to make you understand the afflictions which we
actually suffer. We have learned from a letter coming from
you, that Basil Bondiot has been with you, and has dug up all
our money which was hidden in Tusket Bay, after we had so

1895.] A CORNER OF ACADIE. i;i

many times forbidden him, when he left us, to raise it, or to
show it to any one, with reason, and you tell us that this
(quantien ?) and thief has dug it up, and carried it off without
putting any of it in your hands ! We pray and supplicate you,
for mercy's sake, to inquire of all the acquaintances and friends
which you have, to see if you can discover where he can be,
and also what he can have done with the money. Whether he
has put it at interest in the shipping or in business, or at
profit, or if he has still something remaining, or if he has spent
it all. We pray you give us some knowledge of this. . . .
You tell us that this (Cotien ?) told you that we had taken
away the altar silver, and (the value of?) a fourth part of two

" IT WOULD BE SAFE TO GO TO ANY OF THESE DOORS AND INQUIRE IF MRS. D'ENTREMONT

WERE AT HOME."

vessels. I assure you in truth, my dear cousins, that I have
never received anything of it, and this is very false. You tell
us that if there is still anything hidden you will find it. I reply
we have no more money hidden ; however, I tell you that we left
between (two Indian names of islands), the two largest islands,
those that are nearest Tusket River, on the north, north-west
side we left in a shed eighty-two skins of (illegible) and five
skins of cattle. You will look also in another shed, which is
directly opposite this one of which we speak, and you will find
there within a plough-iron. I tell you also that we hid the iron
of the mill in the first path coming from the houses, which one
passes to go to the mill, at the left-hand going toward the
shore. Look under the stone ; you will find them.

172 A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. [May,

" We pray you tell us in what part of Cape Sable you are
established, if you are comfortable there, and if they have
spoiled all for you ; and whether all Acadia is inhabited, and if
affairs go as well as in the past.

" Our address is care Monsieur D'Aujacque, Commander of
the Islands St. Peter and Miquelon, for him to forward, if he
will, to Charles d'Entremont, at Cherbourg, Normandy. You
can address to whom you please of the family.

"All the family assures you of their sincere friendship,
wishing you all good and perfect health. Hoping for news
of you, our very dear cousins, we are with all the affection
possible,

Your very humble and very faithful cousins,

CHARLES Mius D'ENTREMONT,
PIERRE Mius D'ENTREMONT,
JOSEPH LANDRY."

Another letter to choose out of the collection where all are
interesting is from the sister of the three D'Entremonts, who
had returned to Pubnico.

Evidently they had sent out of their scanty store money to
relieve the necessities of those in France, who, even less fortun-
ate than they, could not earn enough to sustain health.

" MY VERY DEAR BROTHER : I have received the letter which
you did me the honor and kindness to write me, dated Septem-
ber i, 1774, which tells me that you enjoy good and perfect
health. I pray God that the present may find you in the same
condition.

" I am sensible (one could not be more so) and penetrated
with a lively gratitude for your kindness, and for the trouble
which you have taken on our account, but it is impossible for
me to give you proofs of my attachment and great love ; as I
am situated now I can only offer to Heaven my prayers for
your preservation and that of your dear family, to whom I wish
all the good and contentment which one could desire in this
world.

" I will tell you, my dear brother, that I have not yet
touched the money which you had the goodness to take to St.
Peter. We shall receive it through a ship-owner of this city, who
only waits for a letter of exchange to come from Paris to ren-
der us account of it. He has already even wished to give us
a part deducted, and we hope to get it this week, or the week
following.

1895.] A CONNER OF Ac A DIE. ^

" You did well in sending the money to the priest of St.
Peter, who had the kindness to procure for you a very safe way
of sending to us (anything) which may belong to us, if you
have the goodness to bring it to St. Peter yourself.

" I must tell you, my dear brother, that your first letters
never reached us ; we are very much annoyed that they have
been lost, because you tell us that you had set forth everything
in them. Also I beg you to tell me how much you made of
the silver, the clothing, and the furs, for the reason that the
family of my uncles have a share in this money, but the dishes
and the silver money belonged to my late father.

" I believe that you must have dug up this silver when you
took up that in the shed (cabanaux, in Acadie, any little out-
building belonging to the house), for it seems to me that my late
husband showed it to his brother Joseph ; but in case you should
not have dug it up, it is in the south-west corner of the shed,
and this shed is one under a tree, and the tree is a little up-
rooted. If you have it, or can find it, I beg you to carry it
with the other to St. Peter, and I beg you also to tell me the
sum of this silver.

"As to the silver spoons, my dear brother, I give them to you.
They are not compensation for your trouble, but you are able
to satisfy yourself with what you judge right. If you do not
wish satisfaction for yourself, assess the sum which you would
(have taken), send it here to your nephews, who are sufficiently
in want, and who have had no help from their relations since
they have been in this country, and each one thinks of himself and
troubles himself very little with others. You will not speak of
these things but in my letter.

" Do not make objections to accepting the spoons which I
give you, for I give them with all my heart. I finish by em-
bracing you a thousand and a thousand times, and am with all
the friendship and sincerity possible, my dear brother,
" Your very affectionate sister,

" MARGUERITE LANDRY."

The spoons of which Marguerite Landry a D'Entremont by
birth speaks are preserved in the house of a grandson of Beno-
ni. They are heavy, old-fashioned in style ; one large, and three
teaspoons. One handles them with awe, remembering their his-
tory, and how they laid in the faithful earth, where the hands
of true confessors of the faith had deposited them.

The next letter is interesting for two reasons. First, because

174 A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. [May,

the alliance to which the writer an aunt of the first Marguerite
alludes must have been one of the " marriages by witnesses "
to which the Acadians were obliged to resort after the return,
because the visits of missionaries were so rare. And secondly,
because in the few lines of this older woman's letter breathes
the anguish of the life she was enduring, and the longing for
dear faces, and the beloved Acadie ; the human cry of nostalgia
which time could not still. It is addressed to " Madame la veuve
feu Jacques d'Entremont, a Pobomcoup," and is dated the fourth
of March, 1775 :

" I have received, my dear sister-in-law, your letter dated the
7th of March, 1774, which gave me a sensible pleasure to learn
the dear news of you, and of my dear nephews and niece. You
tell me of their establishment. I am one could not be more
delighted. I am not ignorant that these unions are not made
except by common agreement. I am touched one could not
be more so by the tender remembrance which you have of me,
and of my poor children. It is a recollection which will not
fade till God himself shall have severed the thread of my days.
Be sure of the same sentiments from all my children. I cannot
tell you without sorrow that they do not enjoy perfect health,
or nearly so. It is a cross which God judges good for me to
bear, but I must avow, to my confusion, that this cross is heavy
to me. I do not say as often as I should * May the holy will
of God be done '; pain on pain, denial upon denial, and without
hope of ever enjoying a condition more gracious.

"Again, my dear sister-in-law, I let myself be borne with
you to dwell on that wretched hour when we were parted, and
parted for ever.

" I will not give you any news, my dear sister-in-law ; my
son Joseph is writing to his cousin Joseph, he will set down
any little thing of which he may know.

" Receive I pray you, from me and from my children, our
tender embraces, and the prayers which we pour forth to Hea-
ven for your preservation, and that of my nephews and niece,
to whom we wish all the joy and prosperity in their establish-
ment which one can wish.

" Be assured, my dear sister-in-law, that we are, my children
and I, for life, with the most sincere friendship,
" Your very submissive sister-in-law,

" MARGUERITE D'ENTREMONT,

" Widow of Peter Landry.

1895-] A CORNER OF ACADIE. , 7S

" I should tell you that the Count of Provence and the Count
d'Artois, brothers of the present king, have married the two
daughters of the King of Sardinia, and that none of the three
(*>., king, or his brothers) have children. It is the Count de
Maurepas who is Grand Minister of France. I ask you to tell
me how many French are established in the surrounding coun-
try of Cape Sable, and if the English are living in the old home
at Cape Sable?"

The next letter is from the son of this older Marguerite,
written two days before his mother's, and undoubtedly sent with
hers. It is the one in which she says he will " set down any
little thing of which he may know."

It is impressive to read, with the knowledge of subsequent
events which we p6ssess, the hope which he expressed for the
peace and safety of France, through the accession to the throne
of Louis XVI., hopes which make us realize how truly he was
Louis the Desired.

" MY VERY DEAR, AND VERY HONORED COUSIN : I hastily

toss off this (letter) to have the honor to inform myself of the
state of your health, and all which regards you. I pray the
Lord that he will preserve you, and all your dear and amiable
family, in good and perfect health. This is what I wish you
with all my heart, as well as to all the dear and amiable family,
to whom I wish all good, and the dew of heaven and of earth.

" As to mine (health), I am always on a bed of suffering, such
as would make every one weep. My poor body is covered with
disease within and without. To sum up, my very dear cousin,
I cannot die and I cannot live. My dear mother and my
brothers and sisters all (illegible) two whole days on a bed of
pain ; but if such be the will of God, may his will be done, and
not ours.

" Ah, dear cousin, sad these days which we pass in this land,
living and dying in sorrow ; to see one's self so far removed
from one's country, and all one's dear relations and friends, is
not easy ; but, however, for a year bread (the quality and price)
has been more suitable than in the past. For the seven years
that there was famine in France bread was sold for four sous a
pound, and now it is worth but two sous a pound.

" I should tell you that the King of France is dead ; died on
the sixth (tenth) of May, last May; and the queen and dauphin
are also dead ; it is the grandson of Louis XV. who mounts

176 A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. [May,

the throne. He has married the daughter of the Queen of
Hungary (Austria) ; he is twenty years old, and every one says
that there has never been a king so full of wit, intelligence, and
wisdom as this one, and all the world hopes that France may
be better governed in the future than she has been in the past,
and that she may not be betrayed and sold as she has been.
France and all Christian kingdoms allied with her ; Spain, Por-
tugal, the emperor, the King of Sardinia, who would war with
one ; he has with all five, but for the present all is in peace."
(Here follows an omitted paragraph relating to a proposed es-
tablishment of the Acadians near Rochelle.) " There has been
no death among us since I wrote you. I have not received all

"THE CHURCH is A LARGE AND FINE ONE."

the letters which you have written. I have received two of
them, one dated the fourth, the other the seventh of March ;
the others I have not received. We are very much annoyed
that they have not arrived.

" My dear, amiable cousin, how I praise your destiny, and
still more that of your dear children for the salvation of their
souls, which one has not among the world, for if you heard and
saw all that I hear and see you would be overwhelmed, and
shut yourselves away. But, you will say to me, there are priests,
Mass, instruction every day before one's eyes ; but I tell you
that there is nothing worse than to laugh at these things, and
when one will not hear, and when all are unwilling to see the
light, one shuts the eyes, and one sees it no more. Ah, sad are

1 89 5.] A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. 177

these days for the salvation of souls, and of youth in this coun-
try ! To end, my dear, amiable cousin, taking courage and
patience, let us imitate the holy man Job on the dung-hill, and
perhaps one day God will have pity on us, and will give us the
consolation we desire give it to us all. To close, my dear
cousin, nothing more can I say to you, unless with tears in my
eyes and sobs in my heart I embrace you, and all my dear rela-
tions in general, a thousand, million times, and I am to you,
and shall be to the last breath of my life,

" Your faithful cousin,

" JOSEPH LANDRY.

" I embrace a thousand times my dear aunt, and assure her
of my very humble respect. I embrace your dear spouse, and
all your family. I embrace all in general all my dear and
amiable cousins, millions of times.

" My dear mother, my dear brother and sister embrace you,
your dear mother, brother, and sister a million of times with
all their heart. Our compliments to Jacques Amirault, to his
wife and all his dear children, whom I embrace a million of
times.

" Our compliments to Charles Amirault, and to his wife, and
to all his dear family whom I embrace.

" Our compliments to all the in general, whom I (we) em-
brace with all our hearts. Your dear mother tells us that you
are established beside the lies de Grave. Is this because the
English have taken the old home that you are not living upon
it ? Tell us this, and how many French are settled at Cape
Sable. Your cousin, Peter d'Entremont, embraces you, your wife,
and all his cousins with all his heart. Dated at Cherbourg,
March 2, 1775."

Joseph Landry to whom after all his sufferings God gave
rest more than a century ago did not spell very well, his tenses
are very erratic, and his writing hard, at times impossible, to
decipher, but his letter, with its news of the day and complaint
of the Voltairian spirit of ridicule for holy things, is the most
generally interesting of all, and with its touching plaint that he
" could neither die nor live " must close these few glimpses of
the stricken people who actually suffered all Longfellow portrayed.
And that they suffered for conscience' sake, in spite of the
historians who would deny it, let the following oath show. It
was the required oath to be taken by all who sat in the Assem-

VOL. LXI. 12

i;8 A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. [May,

bly of Nova Scotia, the sufficient reason why no Acadian ever
did sit there until 1836, when Simon d'Entremont, the grandson
of one of the exiles, obtained its abolishment, and was the first
of his race to sit in the Assembly, having taken the oath which
is now presented to legislators in lieu of the former.

" I swear that I abjure, abhor, detest, and deplore the
damnable doctrine called popery.

" I swear that the sacrifice of the Mass now celebrated by
Catholics, and invocation of saints and of the Virgin Mary, is
superstitious and idolatrous.

" I swear that no pope or priest has any power to remit sin
by absolution.

" I swear that there is no partaking of the Body and Blood
of Christ in the Sacrifice (of the Mass)."

" The ancienne habitation," the old dwelling-place of which
the exiles so anxiously inquired, was taken by the English, and
is the upper East Pubnico of to-day. And on the west side, by
" 1'Isles de Graves," as Joseph Landry had heard, their descen-
dants are now living. They are all fishermen, grave, dignified
in deportment, upright, and God-fearing.

On Monday morning the little fleet of Pubnico schooners sets
sail for the week's cod-fishing, returning Saturday night to
keep Sunday. They gather in knots Saturday evenings to dis-
cuss the events on sea, and sometimes the younger people have
a dance on that night when the boats are in, for it is necessary
to improve the hours, since sweethearts are gone so much of
the time.

On Sunday the church is crowded at Mass and Vespers.
The priest has a parish of sixty miles in extent. He says Mass
one Sunday in the pretty little church on the east side, and the
two succeeding Sundays is upon the west side.

When the tide serves the harbor is dotted with boats, white
sails, Venetian red, and an occasional yellow, illumined in the
morning sunshine, and thrown out picturesquely against the in-
tensely blue sky and the dark firs. They bring the people from
across the harbor to hear Mass, and it is a pretty sight to see
the little fleet winding through the islands, bringing the devout
Acadians to the church, remembering what their fathers suffered
that they might enjoy this very Sunday hallowing.

As one comes down the road one sees a black group of men
outside the church gate, on the brow of the hill where the
edifice stands, and inside the yard a similar group of women.

1895.] A CORNER OF ACADIE.

These Sundays and holydays are the opportunities for the meet-
ing of friends ; for some who live apart, the only ones.

When the bell sounds, warning the people that the priest is
in the sacristy, all turn and obediently file into place, not one
lagging after the Asperges.

The church is a large and fine one, built by the energy of
the earnest priest and the sacrifices of a poor people to whom
religion is the first cause for which to live, as their fathers had
taught them in suffering, more eloquent than words.

The congregation is an edifying one ; attentive, devout, and
large. The " Marguilliers," two elderly men, following an
Acadian custom, sit in the front pew on the epistle side, and
guide the people in the right moment of rising, kneeling, or
sitting.

There is none of the French vivacity left in these people ; a
life of hardship in a severe clime has effectually sobered them.
They are intensely proud, honest, and virtuous. Crime is un-
known jn their midst, and while marriages must differ in degrees
of happiness here as elsewhere, there are no domestic tragedies ;
the women are modest, the men constant, families are very
large, and well cared for. They tell one in Pubnico that they
are poor, but -there is no poverty as we know it. Every one
owns his little home; ready money is not plenty, but there .is
little needed. Twenty-five dollars a year would be a good house-
rent, though few houses are rented ; a dollar a week is the
usual wages of a servant, twenty-five cents a day for a woman
to make or wash one's clothing.

The women are very hard-working. Each house has its
spinning-wheel ; the wool is spun, the stockings, and even the
underclothing, knitted by the busy hands that sew, and bake, and
scrub, as well as tend, through a constantly recurring infancy, a
family of eight to fourteen children.

The floors are painted by the women, who, though they have
never learned drawing, cover the rooms with sail-cloth, upon
which they paint designs so beautifully that no one could dis-
tinguish it from oil-cloth, except that it is so much warmer and
better, while the " hooked in " and braided rugs are marvels of
beauty.

Out of doors, these same women tend the cod-fish drying
upon the flakes, and while the warm days last help get in the
crop, for men are on the sea and hay must be made while the
sun shines.

i8o A CORNER OF Ac A DIE. [May,

The girls are many of them very pretty, but it is not
strange that they grow early old, or that the sprightliness of
France is forgotten.

There are but two English families in West Pubnico ; French
is the language of the place, and English only acquired by
patient labor in very good schools.

The French is wonderfully pure, considering the effort that
was made to destroy all national life. It has certain peculiari-
ties to which the ear must become accustomed, such as ch for
q y in such words as que and qui, pronounced che and chi ; the
long sound of i in chien, bien, etc. chine and bine ; broad a in
words ending in ais anglah, pariah, jamah. Old words obsolete
in France are retained here, notably the ancient way of count-
ing, septante, octante, nonante, seventy, eighty, ninety ; icite for id,
iton, aussi, and other peculiarities.

The climate of Pubnico is very nearly perfect for summer
would be quite so were it not for the fogs which haunt Nova
Scotia. When the thermometer registers 80 the good men
remove their coats, and walk home from church mopping their
brows and exclaiming : " Fait chaud, aujourd'hui," adding to
the American : " Vous pensez ch'il fait frette " (froid). They
think of the States as a kind of fiery furnace, and as the sum-
mer progresses there, and one never becomes more than delight-
fully warm, none too warm for a walk at noon-day, one begins
to share their view. There is no night through the summer
when a blanket is not a necessity.

A kinder people could hardly be ; the French blood shows
itself in courtesy and natural politeness. They live like one great
family as indeed they are being all closely related, and they
share with each other property, labor, and good offices. And
they show the inheritance of faith and the blood of martyrs by
a virtue that lifts them far above the descendants of English
settlers, as well as by better breeding and greater intelligence
that is, of course, better than those who, like them, labor to
live, and are removed from the centres of learning and society.

What will be the end of this little community it is hard to
predict. French has been retained so far ; it is hardly possible
it will always be spoken. To-day the schools are very good ;
two generations ago it was hard to obtain the rudiments of an
education. Now the older girls speak English, many of the
mathers speak it little or not at all ; two generations hence, at
that rate, it is not unlikely that it will have superseded the

1895.] THOUGH THOU ART QUEEN. 181

French. With French will go much that is characteristically
good ; it is impossible to withstand the march of time, and with
all gain comes some loss, but to one who loves the Acadian it
is painful to foresee his amalgamation into the Nova-Scotian.

A railroad is projected, partially graded, from Yarmouth to
Pubnico Head ; with the rush of steam, and the withdrawal of
our uncomfortable coach, will come more American tourists, and
a complete change on the face of Pubnico.

We learned to love it, the kindly people, its intensely Catho-
lic life, its traditions of persecution, the French of the time of
the expulsion, its great lakes, the murmur of pines, its bleak
solitudes, and breaking surf.

If the rush of the nineteenth century must invade the still-
ness of past centuries, we are glad that we knew it while it was
still a remnant of Acadie.

THOUGH THOU ART QUEEN.

BY M. ROCK.

HOUGH thou art Queen in Paradise,
Though anthems in thy praise arise,

Though saints' and seraphs' voices frame
Sweet songs of which thou art the theme,
Mother thou art to us likewise.
Yes, Mary, 'neath the angry skies
On Calvary, 'mid His dying sighs,

Thy dear Son bade us use that name,
Though thou art Queen.

Then, Mother, listen to our cries,

And earthward ever turn thine eyes ;
Let woes of ours thy pity claim,
Our contrite tears of grief and shame

Let not thy mother heart despise,
Though thou art Queen.

1 82 THEO SOPHY AND PROTESTANTISM. [May,

THEOSOPHY AND PROTESTANTISM.

BY REV. FRANCIS B. DOHERTY.

:N order to do justice to a quotation, it should be
read with its context and in the light of it ; other-
wise an injury may be done to the mind of its
author, the consequences of which will be far-
reaching. One of the worst consequences is the
promulgation of a half truth, which while it presents the golden
side of its shield towards us, shows a baser metal towards our
adversaries.

Much of the care in a Catholic theological seminary is
directed to guard the students from falling into this mistake,
exercising them meanwhile in the art of dialectical swordsman-
ship, by which they can sever at a stroke error clinging to
truth, and despatching the former, leave the latter intact and
more clearly defined.

Such a training would have prevented an unfortunate state-
ment by a young layman, who has recently published an other-
wise most gratifying letter announcing his rehabilitation in the
Catholic Church. In this letter he says, speaking of Theoso-
phy " which I do consider more respectable than Protestantism
(a position sanctioned by Catholic theology, which teaches that
heresy is worse than paganism). (See the Summa, II., ii. q. x.
a. vi.) " of St. Thomas.

At the present time, with the decay of the A. P. A. and the
general reactionary interest in the Catholic Church, at a time
when we are in the receipt of many hearty expressions of good
will from church-going non-Catholics, such a remark is at the
least unfortunate, and may tend to exasperate many well-dis-
posed people, who are at present our friends.

Moreover the quotation is untrue in its application, and may
furnish another argument to the professional traducers of our
holy Faith, whose stock in trade consists of similar citations,
pretending to show the un-Christian character of Catholicism, by
alleging its greater opposition to- other forms of Christianity
than to non-Christian sects.

That such* a view is foreign to the mind of the Church may
be seen from the attitude of our Holy Father Leo XIII. upon
all questions affecting the interests of Christianity. That such is

1895.] THEOSOPHY AND PROTESTANTISM. 183

not the opinion of St. Thomas may be seen from a reading of
the very article quoted.

St. Thomas, comparing the gravity of the various grades of
unbelief, quotes II. Pet. ii. 21 : " For it would have been better
for them not to have known the way of justice, than after they
have known it, to turn back," divides the question into two
parts. The first concerning infidelity in the light of the due
acknowledgment of faith, and in the second, the damage to
faith in consequence of the demolition of those things which
pertain to faith ; or in other words, the comparative desolation
caused by the different grades of infidelity.

(i) In the former division he shows that a positive, formal
heretic that is, one who rejects the proffered or possessed
gifts of faith, either by denying the truth or by stifling the
impulses of grace urging inquiry is worse than a pagan who
has not heard of the truth.

This is the obvious conclusion of the scriptural text above,
and it appeals to any one's sense of justice.

But this is not the point which bears upon the comparative
condition of the existing forms of belief in respect to the true
faith ; hence (2) the second part of the question, wherein St.
Thomas says, that inasmuch as there is a greater divergence
from truth in the case of the pagans than in the case of the
Jews, who in turn are more in error than the heretics ; so the
infidelity of the pagans is graver than that of the Jews, which
is, in turn, graver than that of the heretics. An interesting
exception is suggested to St. Thomas in the case of the Mani-
chaeans, a heresy which from its errors about God himself is
not altogether unlike that of the modern theosophists. These
he regards as worse than pagans. ,

This is the reading of St. Thomas, and all the comfort that
theosophists can take out of it is, that their condition is at least
much worse than that of Protestants, and is perhaps even worse
than that of negative pagans.

Since the discussion has been opened, it may not be unin-
teresting or unprofitable to give a Catholic view of the com-
parative conditions of Theosophy and Protestantism, and the
bearings of each upon Catholicism.

A survey of the field is bewildering from the surging and
intermingling of the various hosts ; but, as a key to the situation
is always found in the contest around the standards, so, by
seizing some central figure, we may come upon a striking esti-
mate of the whole.

Such a figure is found in theosophy's present leader, Mrs.

1 84 THEOSOPHY AND PROTESTANTISM. [May,

Besant, whose life story has been touchingly told by an admir-
ing biographer. It is a powerful demonstration of the range of
deflection caused by an early error upon an earnest, moving spirit.

A young woman of intense religious cravings, an Evangelical
Protestant in training, declares, after reading the early Fathers,
" that Rome shows marks of primitive Christianity of which
Geneva is entirely devoid," and this contrast sets her face to-
wards Rome and Manning.

Meeting Pusey on the way, she is told that the English Church
might be Catholic, though non-Roman, and she resigns herself
to the situation. Here was the error. The soul seeks the whole
truth, and is not satisfied with a compromise. Anglicanism has
been a road to many, and a stumbling-block to not a few.
More doubts follow her marriage to the Rev. Mr. Besant, and
she resolves to investigate all things ; but this means all things
but the right one. The belief in the divinity of our Lord re-
mains after most else has fallen, but this is undermined by in-
fidel reading, and, realizing her desperate condition, she appeals
again to Dr. Pusey. He cannot help her now, nor stop her
course. She has gone beyond his grasp. Sacrificing home and
children for principle's sake, she sets out in search of " truth ";
but in the darkness mistakes for it that tremulous, wandering,
will-o'-the-wisp which hovers over the battle-fields of buried errors.
Look at the race which this jack-a-lantern has led her theism,
atheism, free-thought, spiritism, theosophy. The angle of diver-
gence between Manning's position and Pusey's seemed slight,
but the eventuation brought the searcher into contact with Brad-
laugh first, and then Blavatsky. Protestantism is not as desolate
as theosophy, but this case illustrates its possibilities when error
is carried to its bitter end.

Dismissing the subject of theosophy's leader, we come to the
belief itself, and find that, as a rationalist system of religious
belief, theosophy is confuted by its own claims, by the life of its
founder, and by the elements which it attracts. The prospectus
of doctrine is delightfully vague, and the explanation of " Kar-
ma," to smooth the rugged paths of mankind, is somewhat too
much for practical minds, who would not derive any satisfaction
from a sense that their present evils are a result of their own
fault in their previous existences. These plain people might
deny pre-existence, and in their own simple way, appealing to
their unfailing faculty of memory in its unconsciousness of any
such state, would give theosophy some trouble to prove its thesis.

Some color is said to have once been given to this theory
of pre-existence by the testimony of a census-collector in a theo-

1895.] THEOSOPHY AND PROTESTANTISM. 185

sophical region, who, being surprised at the startling disparity
between the ages given and the appearances of the same per-
sons, charitably concluded that this might be their second or third
experience upon earth.

As to the scientific pretensions of theosophy, stubborn scien-
tists seem to ignore the fact that the solution of all the secrets
of nature is possessed by the Mahatmas, and instead of seeking
" a projection of the astral form," continue to experiment upon
the constitution of the celestial bodies with such primitive meth-
ods as spectrum analysis.

The spiritual doctrine of theosophy is about as colorless as
its own ethereal medium, although by no means as clear. Like
the other celebrated doctrine of total depravity, it is not lived
up to ; and " Akasa," or the " Astral Light," seems to have
been shed \n vain upon the life of theosophy's founder in mod-
ern form.

The usual characteristics of a soul at peace were not remark-
ably prominent in the case of Madame Blavatsky, who, according
to her memorialist, was " a great spiritual reality," in spite of
" her gross corpulence, incessant smoking of cigarettes, a loud
voice that grew harsh in its tones when she felt irritated and
something or other would happen to irritate her fifty times a day."

The Society of Psychical Research entertained a different
opinion, when its agent's report proved the existence of letters
forged by the madame, with the existence of a secret panel in
the temple of Adyar, wherein the letters from the Mahatmas
were received. The society's report further stated that there
was a strong presumption that the testimony of witnesses to oc-
cult power was a spontaneous illusion, and it concluded by saying :
" We think that she has a title to permanent remembrance as one
of the most accomplished, ingenious, and interesting impostors in
history." (Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research,
December, 1885.)

This new phase of old belief has made some converts abroad
from that floating section of investigators who are always drift-
ing about in search of the marvellous. They are carried along
towards that vortex which has ejected for the moment into theo-
sophical prominence the present leader, before all is swallowed
up in that whirling chasm which has closed over Madame Bla-
vatsky for ever. Lulled by the rush of the waters, the credulous
ones fancy it the peal of astral bells, and give themselves up
to the current. Their danger extorts our sympathy, but our
heart and hand go forth to the swimmer who is breasting the
stream.

1 86 THEOSOPHY AND PROTESTANTISM. [May,

In America the votaries of theosophy are largely drawn from
those who regard religion as a source of exhilarating novelty, and
who try everything that is advertised. Among these " fad "
followers are those who affect at times an intense intellectuality,
and who will sit at the feet of those only who are a little more
abstruse than themselves. Contrast this dilettanteism with the
serious, wholesome church work among the Christian sects, and
one will readily see why it is that the vast number of converts
to Catholicism come from those divisions in which faith and
works render their members like unto Cornelius, the centurion,
whose prayers and alms ascended for a memorial in the sight of
God.

But why should Catholics concern themselves about such a
distant movement as theosophy, which at its worst sweeps along
only some of the driftwood of Protestantism ? Because even in
such a case some souls are being drawn into graver error. That
these souls' may have but little faith lost by the transaction is
true ; but no loss of faith, however small, is unimportant in the
economy of salvation, and we cannot look with complacency
upon the inroads of theosophy, upon the most remote lines of
Christianity, nor indifferently regard the substitution of a mean-
ingless, pantheistic mysticism for the acknowledgment and wor-
ship of the One, True God.

This is why a Catholic must place his influence upon the
side of any form of Christianity, as Christianity, against any
form of paganism howsoever refined.

This we do with " charity towards all and malice towards
none," for the spirit of the Catholic Church is the spirit of her
Divine Founder, " who will have all men to be saved and to
come to a knowledge of the truth." She extends her arms over
all, in protection of her own faithful ones, in invitation to her
wandering ones to the nearer first, because they are nearer.
Like that grim old relic of Catholic England, the church tower
of St. Botolph's in old Boston, Lincolnshire, which, while it
sheltered the town nestling at its base, bore aloft a lantern for
the assistance of home-seeking sailors ; so the Church's torch of
Pentecostal faith shines upon the dwellers in the City of God,
and upon the toilers of the deep, dimly perhaps to those who
are afar, but with a warmer, kindlier glow as they approach the
port, until at last they find that, like the Star of Bethlehem, it
shines above the abiding place of the Divine Saviour, and
entering in, they pour forth their praises to God for the great
things which he has done unto them.

I8Q5-J TRAINING-SCHOOLS FOR NURSES. 187

THE TRAINING-SCHOOLS FOR NURSES OF THE
SISTERS OF CHARITY.

BY THOMAS DWIGHT, M.D.

'ARE of the sick poor formed no part of the do-
mestic economy of Greece and Rome. What to
do with them must have been a new and distress-
ing problem to the early Christians. It is pro-
bable that the care of the sick was entrusted to
deacons and deaconesses. No one can doubt that in the days
of the catacombs Christian charity did what it could. Later,
when the church had triumphed, more systematic measures were
adopted. Under the Christian emperors bishops maintained hos-
pitals, generally near the cathedrals. The first great hospital
was built by St. Basil in Caesarea, in the year 370. St. Theo-
dosius the Cenobiarch, who was abbot of anchorites near
Jerusalem at the end of the fifth century, had several infirma-
ries, of which at 'least two were of his own founding. St. John
Chrysostom built a noted one at his own expense in Constanti-
nople. The hospices of western Europe appeared later. They
were by no means exclusively, nor even chiefly, devoted to the
sick, but rather were caravansaries for travellers and pilgrims,
among whom were, of course, many infirm besides the victims
of leprosy. The celebrated Hotel Dieu of Paris is said to have
been founded in the seventh century. Gradually, but appar-
ently very slowly, hospitals proper were evolved. There was
the less urgent need for them, that the monasteries were centres
from which charity radiated, and that scientific medicine did not
exist. Religious orders, male and female, were early devoted to
the care of the sick. Among these were the Knights of St. Laza-
rus, in Jerusalem (later fused with the Knights of Malta), who
in turn nursed the lepers and did battle with the infidel. From
them came the words Lazaretto and Lazarette. Near the end
of the eleventh century the Beguines, a religious community of
women, began their works of charity, among which was the care
of the sick both in hospitals and at their own homes. Many
other orders did more or less the same thing during the middle
ages. The Brotherhood of the Kalands, among others, did good
work in the frightful epidemic of the plague, known as the Black

1 88 TRAINING-SCHOOLS FOR NURSES. [May..

Death, which ravaged Europe in 13489, carrying off perhaps
one-half of the population. A contemporary, William of Nagis,
wrote as follows: " So great was the mortality in the Hotel
Dieu of Paris that for a long time more than fifty corpses were
carried away from it each day in carts to be buried. And the
devout sisters of the Hotel Dieu, not fearing death, worked
piously and humbly, not out of regard for any worldly honor.
A great number of these said sisters were very frequently sum-
moned to their reward by death, and re,st in peace with Christ,
as is piously believed."* These holy women were the precursors
of the great order of the Sisters of Charity founded by St. Vin-
cent de Paul in 1634. Of these what need to speak? In pesti-
lence and battle, in the old world and the new, where suffering
was, there, as far as their numbers and opportunities permitted,
were the Sisters of Charity, still " working piously ajid humbly,
not out of regard for any worldly honor."

We are particularly concerned, in this paper, with their rela-
tions to hospitals. In Europe they have often been employed
as nurses in the public hospitals. Among us they, as a rule,
own and direct their own hospitals. When they first undertook
this work, especially in our Northern cities, it seemed to many
new and revolutionary that hospitals should be carried on by
sisters, whose white cornettes, just becoming familiar, were asso-
ciated chiefly with the care of orphans. The medical profession
was probably not the least astonished. In fact, the relation be-
tween the sisters and the medical staff of the hospitals, f often
composed chiefly of non-Catholics, was a new and a very diffi-
cult one. It had trials for all. The sisters brought piety, devo-
tion, charity, self-sacrifice. They did not bring either know-
ledge of hospital administration nor appreciation of the impor-
tance of elementary principles. They brought love of God and
of their neighbors ; they did not bring science. Moreover they
were hampered by the rules and traditions of their order. To
cite but a single instance : in the earlier days of a certain hos-
pital no house physician or surgeon was allowed to pass the
night there, unless some patient was in so critical a condition as
to require his presence. There was absolutely no provision for
competent assistance at night in the event of any sudden acci-
dent in the wards. The medical staff was in continual anxiety
lest some catastrophe should bring discredit on the hospital.

* Quoted in Dom Gasquet's work, The Great Pestilence.

t The writer's personal experience embraces only one hospital. He has reason to believe
that some of the difficulties he deplores have existed elsewhere.

190 TRAINING-SCHOOLS FOR NURSES [May,

Those of them who were Catholics had the further dread of the
scandal to religion from such a mischance. The lot of the Catholic
physician or surgeon on the staff was not in those days a happy
one. Unable to make reply to the just criticisms or sneers of
his colleagues, he was often tempted to regret the zeal which
had led the sisters to undertake a work for which they had not
the knowledge, and in which their traditions seemed to bar the
way to success. Step by step, however, all this was changed ;
rules were modified, mutual misunderstandings were set right.
Where all sincerely desire t.he same end patience perfects the
work, and though still not of the highest class, the hospital has
flourished.

It may be asked how it happens that the sisters, whose
reputation as nurses is world-wide, should deserve such severe
criticism. In the first place, it is evident that where the sisters
were nurses and nothing else, without the responsibility of ad-
ministration and probably less hampered by rule, they could
show to greater advantage. For the full understanding of the
question, as it is presented to-day, we must consider that two
great discoveries within the last half-century have revolutionized
surgery, and that coincidently the entire practice of medicine, both
in hospitals and in fajnilies, has entered a new phase. The first
of these discoveries is that of anaesthesia, which became a reality
when Morton brought ether to Dr. John C. Warren at the Mas-
sachusetts General Hospital. This has made operations of daily
occurrence from which both surgeon and patient would have
shrunk before its merciful benumbing. The second is the asep-
tic system, the effects of which are perhaps even farther reach-
ing. With asepsis the death-bearing germ is shut out when the
deepest recesses of the body are laid open. This permits amaz-
ing surgical exploits which before would have been foolhardy
and justifiable only as last resorts. This new system, however,
is no simple one in practice. It requires careful study and train-
ing. The work of the greatest surgeon may be spoiled by the
carelessness or ignorance of an assistant. A host of what once
were trifles have sprung into matters of paramount importance.
The time is past when ordinary cleanliness and attention were
the essentials in the physical ministrations of the nurse. The
profession and the public have, moreover, awakened to the fact
that it is for the good of all that nursing should hold a higher posi-
tion than of old, that in the nurse the physician should have a
trained, intelligent, and obedient assistant. Some fifteen years
or more ago, training-schools for nurses were established at some

1 89 5.] OF THE SISTERS OF CHARITY.

191

of the hospitals of our great cities. As the worth of the new
nurses became evident, the demand for them could hardly be
met. At the same time the care of the wards of those hospitals
improved. The Catholic hospitals were doing good work, but
beyond question the best nursing was not theirs. They may
have been the best places for a Catholic to die in ; they were
not the best for him to get well in.

It was, therefore, an event of great importance when in the
summer and autumn of 1892 the hospital of the sisters at Buffa-
lo, and the Carney Hospital also belonging to them at Boston,
opened training-schools for nurses. The former was the first
actually to begin ; the latter started with a much superior
organization. This example has been followed at Philadel-
phia, St. Louis, New Orleans, Detroit, and finally at Lowell.
The first requisite for a successful training-school is an efficient
lay superintendent. She gives instruction, directs the work, hears
recitations. Occasionally lectures are given by members of the
staff. After the first year, in which the theory is 'taught, parti-
cular attention is given to acquiring experience by successive
terms of service in different departments: One feature of at
least one of these schools deserves notice. It is that when pu-
pils are fit for it, they go out to do a certain amount of nurs-
ing, especially among the poor. This is most desirable, provided
always that it does not interfere unduly with the regular instruc-
tion. In the three years course there should be time for it. It
teaches the students to get on without the conveniences of nurs-
ing ; to use what they can find. Sometimes this has been little
enough. Often they have had to go back to the hospital to
get money to buy food. Thus they tread more closely in the
footsteps of the sisters. The technical training, on which such
store is justly set, is not enough for the perfect nurse. Self-
denial, charity, patience, humility, are essential. Where can
these virtues be so easily acquired as from the Sister of
Charity ? These virtues, indeed, are called for not only in nurs-
ing among the poor ; there is ample place for them in work
among the rich. When serious sickness has appeared, when
anxiety and want of sleep have set nerves on edge, it is no
small additional trial to the members of the family to have one
or more fine ladies quartered on them, exacting in their de-
mands, fastidious in their eating, themselves requiring service,
making trouble in the household. This may not be common,
but it occurs. Then it is " Oh for the cheerful, humble
sister!"

192 TRAINING-SCHOOLS FOR NURSES. [May,

At the end of the course, which is of various lengths in dif-
ferent hospitals, ranging from one to three years, come the final
examinations.

Great as is the advantage of increasing the number of skilled
nurses, especially by those trained under Catholic auspices, what
is of vital importance is the gain to the sisters themselves.
Though they cannot be actually enrolled among the students,
they follow the courses with certain justifiable exceptions. One
can hardly over-estimate the importance of this movement. It
is true progress. As such it may expect opposition from those
who do not know the need. It is silly, to say the least, to
extol the virtues of the sisters in contradistinction to the skill
of lay nurses, as though one excluded the other. There is no
antagonism between them. The use of the clinical thermometer
will not cool charity, nor the strictest asepsis render self-devo-
tion sterile. On the contrary, every professional acquirement
will enlarge the sisters' field of action, and enhance the respect
in which they are held. To the virtues which characterize the
daughters of St. Vincent de Paul let there be added every
refinement of technical training.

The time was when the Sisters of Charity were the best
nurses in the world. They have lost nothing, but while they
stood still others have passed them. The Catholic cause
requires that this should be remedied. Presumptuous as it may
seem, or as it may be, I venture to hope that ere long thorough,
systematic training in modern nursing shall have its place in
the novitiate of the order. We should wish all success to
Catholic training-schools for nurses. Like the quality of mercy,
they are twice blessed. Good in themselves, they set the sisters
before the pupils as models of spiritual excellence. They do
double good in bringing the sisters to higher perfection as
nurses. The aims and the history of the order demand that it
be content with nothing less than the best. " What is there in
the hour of anguish," wrote Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, " like
the gentle presence, the quiet voice, the thoroughly trained and
skilful hand of the woman who was meant by nature and has
been taught by careful discipline to render those services which
money tries to reward but only gratitude can repay ? " Add to
this the Christian charity of the sister, and we have the ideal
nurse.

1895-] A BIT OF THE OLD WORLD IN THE NEW. 193

A BIT OF THE OLD WORLD IN THE NEW.

BY HENRY AUSTIN ADAMS.

V.HERE AND THERE IN CA THOLICISM.
i

'O read in the newspapers that a " revolution has
broken out " in some one of the Spanish-American
countries to the south of us fails at present to
excite interest. We forget all about it by lunch-
time. The reason is not that these outbreaks
as frequent as trolley accidents in Brooklyn are not of the ap-
proved and genuine style of revolution. Far from it ! They
are the real article in every sense. In the ghastly details of
assassination, treachery, arson, and rapine no revolution in his-
tory has outdone these which, week by week, we learn has
turned some Don Jose Maria Eglesias Manuel de Estramadura
y Las Casas out of the presidency, to make room for some other
gentleman the length of whose name is like to prove no greater
than the brevity of his term of office. The cause of our faint
interest is the regularity in the recurrence of the revolutions.

The case of Cuba, recently exploited in the press, is different.
There it is not one faction pitted against another as our own
" parties " here resorting to fire and sword, as we to ballots
and " deals," perhaps.

In Cuba the cause of the recurring troubles is the old story of
restiveness upon the part of colonies under the selfish, usually
blinded policy of (step) mother-countries.

Our own quite recent little unpleasantness with maternal
England has naturally sharpened our sensibilities and kindled
our warm sympathies for all unfortunate dependencies. Hence,
Cuba's difficulties from time to time attract our notice, and (should
a revolution really break out there of vital magnitude) I fancy
that our attitude toward it our possible relations to the island
in case of its emancipation would instantly become a very
serious problem for our government. That nut, moreover, would
probably be cracked not until England, Germany, and other
powers had said their say.

It is not certainly the purpose of this paper to outline any
prophecy, nor even to make out a case for the poor Cubans
VOL. LXI. 13

194 ^ BIT OF THE OLD WORLD IN THE NEW. [May,

groaning under what possibly is what they claim the most illib-
eral, unjust, and stupid government ever contrived even by for-
eign and colonial ministers themselves.

Our minds having been turned toward that magnificently fruit-
ful and lovely land, I wish to speak of the quaint civilization,
the ancient customs, and the great natural resources of the re-
moter portions of it.

As has been noticed, this last attempt for freedom has centred
in Guantanamo, Cienfuegos, and Santiago towns in the southern
and extreme eastern part of the island. No railroad reaches
them (except Cienfuegos), and steamers from New York only
fortnightly. Cut off from one another by splendid mountains,
the lesser towns and villages of the interior (eastward) remain
in virtual isolation from the world having not so much even as
intercourse with any of the seaports, much less Havana. The
consequence has been that he who leaves New York in one of
the good steamships of the Ward Line not for Havana, but
for the east-end ports reaches after a voyage of a week cities
now hundreds of years old, in which the language, superstitions,
customs of the long dead past survive and flourish.

The archiepiscopal see and former capital, the picturesque
old city of Santiago de Cuba lies on the sloping shores of a
superb, broad bay, whose entrance, scarcely of width sufficient
for one ship's passage, is guarded by the beetling frown of
Moro Castle, perched on the sheer, bold, natural escarpments of
volcanic rock which form the entrance.

Without, the indescribable expanse of the Caribbean Sea ;
on either hand the pink-gray, myriad-tinted sweep up to dizzy
heights of the rock-bound gateway, terraced and battlemented
at the top ; and on within, the broadening blue mirror of the
bay, palm-fringed and crystalline, with the white city far at the
upper end climbing its terraced streets up to the crowning
beauty of the old cathedral.

Think, then, that for a background to this picture there
piles away in a tumultuous wave-line the splendid outlines of the
Gran Pedro Range mountains of a vast height, teeming with
mineral wealth.

The age of old Santiago may be felt when one remembers
that Christopher Columbus stopped there on his way to Mexico
in one of his late voyages, and that the house in which he slept
still stands. Santiago was a town before the boldest of the
English navigators had but begun to cautiously investigate the
shores of North America. It has changed little.

1 89 5.] A BIT OF THE OLD WORLD IN THE NEW. 195

Growth does not mean change in the quite peculiar circum-
stances under which it there has taken place. We know that in
the use of many archaic phrases, and in the manner of pronounc-
ing words, the language of the common people in the Hispano-
American old towns is more like that spoken in the times of
Ferdinand and Isabella, than the more elegant and super-refined
Castilian of the present day.

But, while the erudite and curious may find these interesting
marks of the antiquity of idioms, the ordinary traveller is more
impressed and entertained by the immediately apparent quaint-
ness and antique flavor of outlandishness characteristic of the
customs, manners, vestments, processions, games, and architec-
ture. A very large proportion of the population of Santiago
and the whole eastern end of Cuba is made up of a mixture
of African, Spanish, Indian, and Creole stock resulting in a
type of mongrel human-nature which baffles one's analysis no
less than it presents a picturesque complexity of traits unparal-
leled.

Much of the genuine African blood has remained pure, and
one who knows the negro only as he has been, as it were,
Americanized among us, is struck at once on seeing the African
in all of his (or better yet, of her) original dignity and strange-
ness. Tribal relations and their resulting feuds exist to-day,
having survived for centuries the contact and the servitude of
dominant and alien races.

One good old negress, a nurse in my own family for two
and part of three generations, is a true princess of the blood
her ancestor having been king of a large tribe somewhere upon
the Gold Coast.

This royal blood expects and generally receives a fitting re-
cognition. Our nurse's brother (now reigning chef in the kitchen
of one of New York's multi-millionaires) would, if he had his
rights, be king to-day his lot having, moreover, more than one
well-remembered parallel in royal history. Kings have their ups
and downs.

The women of this race have a superb and graceful car-
riage straight as an arrow and lithe as the rushes with which
they weave the panniers which they can balance on their heads
(filled with immense and ticklish piles of oranges) while walking
faster than we run. Turbaned, and decked forth in a mystery
of flowery muslins ; great bracelets made of shells or coins, and
necklaces of monstrous size shiny of face, erect and most sym-
metrical of form, these lineal descendants of savage monarchs

196 A BIT OF THE OLD WORLD IN THE NEW. [May,

stand in broad contrast to the degenerate remnants of fused
and once great peoples.

The blacks are mostly Christians (but in too many cases
mere nominal ones), yet they retain among them most curious
relics of dim old faiths and long forgotten cults. Occasionally a
public celebration of some traditional event belonging to their
past will entertain the uninitiated traveller with quite the most
incomprehensible and picturesque of spectacles. Processions of
elaborately adorned negroes, beating rude tam-tams, and huge
and hideous images of gods or potentates, carry the wondering
onlooker back to the streets of some Ashantee village, and to
the still unbroken, immemorial reign of Darkness under the
equator. The music of these people is weird enough, and
seems to have its roots back in the native jungles.

The mingled population, too, has its own quaintness. Go, if
you please, to some or other of the great plantations, say in
the region of Guantanamo, and there, in the low, long huts in
which the laborers live, you will find such a medley of tradi-
tions, customs, prejudices, tongues, and tempers as could not
very well have failed, in the long run, to have resulted in a
queer outcome.

Chinese are there, and in large numbers, married to Spanish
women, whose fathers were pure French. The thrifty Catalan
is there plying his trade with wily Scotchmen from Auld
Reekie, and broad-faced Dutchmen with unpronounceable names,
and Yankees, and Mexicans, and Englishmen, and Cubans !

The resulting civilization (?) on these plantations is better
not described. Nor can one now foresee any material improve-
ment until the emancipation of the land from gross misrule
shall open it to the beneficent and civilizing influence of an
aggressive Church.

At old Santiago the student of ecclesiastical affairs will find
enough to fill his mind with interest and speculation. The city
is sufficiently supplied with churches, the grand cathedral, with
its two graceful towers, superb old chancel, and air of in-
describable devotion, being the fruitful mother of a dozen of
them.

The evidences of an intense and almost pathetic faith were
everywhere such rapt 'and mystic adoration as one sees there
before some quiet shrine being uncommon to our Teutonic
reticence if not less fervid temper. And nothing can surpass
the elevating, nameless beauty of a Mass sung there trans-
planting one to old Spain, old times, old spirit of the Faith-

1 89 5.] A BIT OF THE OLD WORLD IN THE NEW. 197

ages. But one does miss the energizing power which marks the
work of Holy Church in other lands.

Nor are the clergy (albeit hampered unspeakably by state
dependence and interference) unwilling to discuss the facts, the
causes, and the cure of the conditions. " God shall help her,
and that right early." For us meanwhile it is enough to see
such flowers of sanctity grown in so waste a desert, and to
rejoice in looking through the quaint, sweet services back to the
age when Spain was to the church, to letters, and to civiliza-
tion as a strong right arm.

The padre sacristano at the cathedral (who talks and looks
as if he had been confessor to at least three centuries) enjoys
nothing so much as to get one willing to be his victim up to
the curious old Chapter Room above the sacristy, and there to
lecture by the hour on the successive archbishops of Santiago,
whose portraits hang about the walls. Get him to show you the
old vestments, the massive, curious, infinitely costly silver frontal
of the old high altar.

To turn from the conventional (not always too artistic) brass
ornaments to the antique, exquisitely wrought, silver candlesticks,
lamps, crucifixes, and other objects, is to have a liberal educa-
tion in church art. On Thursdays there is an unusually inter-
esting ceremony after High Mass. The oldest silvers, vestments,
banners, canopies, and crosses are brought forth, and a solemn
procession winds about the church. I noticed four great silver
sconces, fourteen feet high, borne by men, and the archbishop's
cross and crozier miracles of handiwork might have come
straight that day from the hands of Benvenuto Cellini himself. I
have seen many picturesque ecclesiastical processions ; but the
faded tints, the old silver, the antique copes, the very vestments
of the acolytes and boys all gave that Thursday Eucharistic Ap-
proach to the Tabernacle an air, a tone, a feeling never before
attained. And stepping forth into the square called the " Plaza
of Souls " after the Mass, nothing one sees or hears serves to
dispel the beautiful illusion. All is old; alt tends to make one
feel himself suddenly become a part of some old Corpus Christi
pageant of the fifteenth century.

To our utilitarian, aggressive, missionary minds the dreamy
and devotional surroundings need practicality, and more of what
we style " applied Christianity." One could wish certainly to
see more men in church more schools, more energy. Yet there
is not the less of beauty and its own sweet mysticism in the
" Manana, chicho ! " To-morrow, my dear ! of that contempla-

I 9 8

A BIT OF THE OLD WORLD IN THE NEW.

[May.

tive, poetic people, whose nervous tension has been relaxed by
centuries of siestas in a land where " it is always afternoon."

I found, after a long and close observance of many functions,
that the minutice of ritual were of an obsolete with us but
very interesting order. What is a rarity even in oldest Euro-
pean churches may be found here. For instance, the singing
of the Epistle and the Gospel in the Mass is from huge ambons,
or pulpits, reached by winding stairs, and situated well down
the nave. The procession to and fro is most impressive ; the
custom dates back to the sub-apostolic times. Funerals, baptisms,
Benedictions, and Stations, in fact all public functions, have in-
teresting features not commonly seen among us. A marriage I
did not see, although I very much desired to. A friend was to
be married, and urged me to be present at the nuptials, and I
looked forward to the ceremony which was to be elaborate
with eagerness.

But, alas ! the hour appointed was half-past three in the
morning. I decided that that was curious enough in itself and
sufficiently unique, so I did not care to go into a minuter study
of the nuptial rites.

. On one day of their lives, at any rate, the Cuban Christians
outdo even our Yankee haste.

THE ASCENSION.

BY M. T. WAGGAMAN.

"And when he had said these things, while they looked on he was raised up: and
cloud received him out of their sight." Acts i. ix.

fOD-CRAVING Earth, untold was thy despair

At that last pressure of the Saviour's feet :
As He uprose through the adoring air,
The four winds flung forth incense heavenly sweet ;
Ye clouds, which hid Him from men's eyes ye ne'er
Shall be content save as His judgment seat !

2oo THE FOOT-PRINTS OF CANADIAN MISSIONARIES. [May,

IN THE FOOT-PRINTS OF CANADIAN
MISSIONARIES.

BY J. K. FORAN, LL.B.

TRIP up the Gatineau to-day is very different
from what a journey along that river was ten or
more years ago. The construction of the Gati-
neau Valley Railway is rapidly transforming the
face of the country. Soon there will be as great
a difference in travelling from Ottawa to the Desert by rail,
compared with the long drives and weary tramps of a few
years ago, as there is to-day in making a pilgrimage to Jeru-
salem.

Ten years ago it was a tiresome and adventurous drive
from Ottawa to the confluence of the Gatineau and the Desert.
On past Chelsea and its blue hills ; past the white waters of
the Cascades ; past the smiling village of La Peche ; past the
well-cultivated fields of Wakefield and the phosphate mines of
that township ; past the perpendicular hills along Stag Creek ;
past Josh Ellord's mills, the beautiful exhibition grounds, and
rising village of the Picannock ; past the Priest's Farm one of
the most fertile tracts in all the valley ; past Bouchette and its
magnificent scenery ; oh to the Indian reserve and the immense
lumbering depots and prosperous town of Maniwaki the village
of Mary. From the head of the Black River it is a three days'
tramp, over rocks and around lakes, to the Logue's at the
Desert. It is of this town that I wish to tell ; its history is
most interesting.

The township of Maniwaki is one hundred miles from Otta-
wa and situate upon the Gatineau and Desert Rivers. It is an
Indian reserve ; that is to say, the land of that township has
been granted by the government to the Tete-de-Baule Indians.
At the junction of the two rivers stand the village of the tribe
and the town of the Desert the former inhabited by Indians,
the latter by whites, but divided merely by a street. The loca-
tion is most picturesque. The blue hills roll off to the north,
and down through their ravines the Gatineau fiercely plunges ;
to the east the rocks scramble over each other in wild confusion
until they touch the clouds upon the horizon ; to the south the

1 89 5.] THE FOOT-PRINTS OF CANADIAN MISSIONARIES. 201

Ottawa road climbs up the dizzy heights and disappears beyond
the pine ridges and bald summits of the Laurentians ; to the
west the picture is the most charming that the eye could rest
upon, for along between emerald meadows on one side, and
frowning declivities on the other, the blue waters of the Desert
come down from the distant hunting-grounds of the Tete-de-
Baule, to fling their tributary strength into the more wild and
rugged Gatineau. Here were, and still are, immense lumber
depots, large farms where the cattle and horses of the firms are
kept in summer, countless out-buildings of a very substantial
kind, and a few residences that by no means indicate the forest
wildness of the surrounding country. From the heights behind
the village you can see Hall's farm, Gilmour's buildings, Hamil-
ton's depots, and other central lumbering establishments. The
road from Ottawa approaches along a semi-circular range of
hills ; beneath, in an amphitheatre, are the houses and streets of
the Desert, rising one above another until they come together
where the magnificent church is flanked, on one side by the
Grey Nuns' convent and hospital and on the other side by the
Oblate Fathers' college and mission house. Down in the valley,
protected from behind by the advance walls of civilization, and
in front by the sweeping grandeur of the Gatineau, lies the
Indian village the real Maniwaki. The smoke curls from a
hundred wigwams, and the dusky children of the woods ply
their trade of canoe, moccasin, basket, and ornament making ;
they dress the moose-skins and prepare their furs for the mar-
ket. The squaws rock their children in wicker cradles or carry
them upon their shoulders in a blanket held to the forehead by
a thumb-line.

Standing there, upon the summit of the hill that, rises be-
hind this strange town, one catches a glimpse of the two rivers
meeting, and the more powerful waters of the white Gatineau
engulfing the more sluggish blue of the Desert ; at the same
time can you see the meeting of civilization and barbarism, the
advance wave of modern progress touching the last retreating
swell upon the stream of primeval savage life, the pioneer strides
of Christianity and the flying steps of aboriginal ignorance ;
there you perceive the stronger and more energetic tide of
Catholic truth and missionary zeal, drinking in, as it were, the
feeble and dwindling flood of primitive ignorance and paganism.
Looking down upon the little town of Maniwaki, the traveller
can read the history of a continent in two volumes : one con-
taining the few but sadly beautiful legends of the Indian tribes,

202 THE FOOT-PRINTS OF CANADIAN MISSIONARIES. [May r

their past glories, their vanishing numbers, their fading strength,,
their approaching disappearance from the face of that land
once theirs, now the property of another race ; the other un-
folding the wonderful annals of the church's missionaries, the
civilizing of the tribes, the Christianizing of a whole people, the
planting of the cross in the heart of the wilderness, the plant-
ing of faith in the hearts of the Indians.

Thirty years ago the Desert was an appropriate name for
that locality, for it really was what the raftsman calls " a
howling wilderness." But being such a central point of dis-
tribution for the lumbering firms and the focus to which all the
Indians of that vast region converged, it was natural that more
interest was centred in Maniwaki than in any other place along
the northern rivers. The keen eye of the missionary priest was
not long in selecting this locality for the principal point of
operation in the hunt for souls. At first a little wooden church
was erected, and the fathers, who went upon those long winter
excursions into the shanty districts, made the priest's house
their headquarters. A few years later four young Irishmen,
strong and devout Catholics, energetic business men, and fer-
vent patriots, found their way to the Desert, and there pitched
their tents and set up their household gods. The day that
the Logue Brothers landed at Maniwaki was an auspicious one
for that country and a happy one for the missionaries of the
North.

Father Pian was one of the first priests to establish a per-
manent mission at this place. In the summer-time the scholas-
tics from the Oblate novitiate at Ottawa went up the Gatineau
to spend their vacations, and it. was a very good preparation for
the life of hardships and labor which awaited them in the years
to come. They carried their canoes over the portages and
made the whole trip by water. At Maniwaki they spent their
time instructing the Indians, teaching the rudiments of the
faith to the children, and in works of mercy as well as of evan-
gelization. By degrees, as the population of the village aug-
mented, the stores became more numerous, the dwellings were
made more comfortable, and the place began to assume an ap-
pearance of civilization ; the fathers established a school for the
boys of both Indians and white men which flourished most
hopefully.

After a few years the number of missionaries was increased ;
Father Moreois found his way to the Desert ; Father Paradis
added new life to the colony by introducing his spirit of zeal,

1 895.] THE FOOT-PRINTS OF CANADIAN MISSIONARIES. 203

a spirit that no obstacle could damp. A fine cut-stone house
was built and a magnificent cut-stone church soon appeared at
its side. Wings were added to the house, and it developed in-
to a regular college. By this time the female population had
also augmented. The Sisters of Charity, or, as they are better
known, the Grey Nuns of the Cross, penetrated the mountain
fastnesses of the Gatineau and set up their abode beneath the
shadow of the church. Before long they had a flourishing
convent, a hospital, and a beautiful public hall. Now that the
railway is about to enter the town we might say that the
Maniwaki of the past will soon give place to a very different
style of centre a city, in the near future, it certainly will be-
come. But as I write it is still the border-land between the
advance-guard of civilization and the rear-guard of primeval
barbarism.

Maniwaki is the "town of Mary." The place was first settled
upon the feast of the Assumption and was dedicated to the
Mother of God. When the imposing structure of the new
church was completed, upon the spire, which is one hundred
and fifty feet in height, a grand statue of the Blessed Virgin
was placed. Strange to say that the Indians, who have a
boundless devotion for the Mother of God, thought that a
cross would be more appropriate ; but of course they only ex-
pressed their opinion in a very mild and timid way. One after-
noon, in the summer of 1886, a wild thunder-storm rolled up
from the west. It was such a storm as only those regions of
the North can boast. It came with terrific force, and mowed
down the trees upon the hill-sides as if it were a gigantic
machine cutting a swath through a meadow of clover. The
lightning was wonderful in its brightness and in the rapidity of
its flashes ; the thunder resembled the roar of ten thousand
pieces of artillery. One forked flash came forth from the
bosom of a dark-rolling cloud and struck the statue upon the
spire of the church. It was shattered into atoms and strewn
over the village below. The Indians were terror-stricken ; but
they finally concluded that the Great Spirit was not pleased
because a cross had not been placed upon the church, and they
made a statement of their case to the fathers.

Later on a cross was set upon the spire ; but the Indians
then felt that they owed some kind of reparation to the Holy
Virgin, so they determined to hold high festival in her honor
upon the fifteenth of August each year. This being the time
when the novices and several fathers, upon their vacation,

204 THE FOOT-PRINTS OF CANADIAN MISSIONARIES. [May,

visited Maniwaki, a grand fete was organized. A band, under
the direction of Father Pierre Gladu, O.M.I., was brought up
to the reserve. Father Bellaud, O.M.I., who had in turn been
professor of music, elocution, philosophy, history, mathematics,
and languages at the College of Ottawa, exercised his versatile
genius for the amusement of the Indians, and got up a splendid
display of fireworks, as well as a drama to be given in the con-
vent hall. The Feast of the Assumption that year at Mani-
waki will never pass from the memories of all who beheld the
celebration.

The High Mass was the first feature in the day's programme.
The choir in the sanctuary sang the Mass in Latin while the
Indians, from the organ loft, chanted the responses in their
own language. Father Pian preached in French and in Indian.
After Mass a weird and wonderful procession took place
through the streets of the village. The choir-boys in white, the
priest in vestments blessing the homes of the people, the col-
lege band in uniform, the banners flying to the breeze, the
Indians in all the extravagance of their barbaric splendor, and
the simple colonists, in mute astonishment, formed a panoramic
scene not to be duplicated on this continent. Pen cannot de-
scribe nor can imagination conceive the wonder, the awe of the
Indians when the fireworks commenced that night. It would
be difficult to say whether they were more amused and attracted
by that outside display than by the representation of " Papineau,"
the drama chosen for the occasion. The day ended amidst the
warmest expressions of pleasure on all sides ; and ever since
has the Feast of the Assumption been kept in right royal style
by the Indians of Maniwaki. One evidence of the fruits of the
missionary labors at early Mass that morning over two hun-
dred children of the forest received Holy Communion. Such is
the hurried story of one station along the missionary road of
the North.

1895.] CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE. 205

CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.

BY REV. GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P.

'HE great ecclesiastical college of Ireland, St.
Patrick's, Maynooth, will in June next celebrate
her entry on her second century. It is a time
of celebrations of this kind, this time in which
we live, and in this, as in some other respects,
it shows itself more graceful than previous periods. It is an
evidence of thought for and sympathy with the great circle of
humanity rounding itself down the ages, and not with the bare
rush and tumult of the life of our own time.

Three years ago the University of Dublin more familiarly
known as Trinity College held the high festival of her three
hundredth year. Founded in 1592, she stands the monument of
an important part of the conquest of Ireland by the generals of
Elizabeth. The great estates which rank her among the largest
landlords of Ireland were a fragment of the confiscated domains
of the earls of Desmond. Her mission was to anglicize the
youth of the country ; for peace rested on the island such
peace over Munster, at least, as the terrible antithesis of Tacitus
tells us Was so often obtained by Roman arms and policy..
She has not been always true to her mission of moulding Irish
intellect into a Saxon shape, and guiding Irish enterprise and
ambition into paths where the interests of England only would
be secured. Those unhappy northern chiefs, whose voluntary
subscriptions for her endowment in the first years were so
liberal, had their Nemesis when Trinity time after time sent
forth some tribune like Grattan, some statesman like Burke, to
frustrate the hopes of those who founded her. It was Trinity
men who led the majority in the Irish Parliament that passed
the great Catholic Relief Act of 1793.

Maynooth College does not indeed, as she stands there with
the ruins of the great fortress of the Geraldines looking down
upon her, give back ray for ray the flashing of a great popular
demand such as the Reform Act and its concession ; but rather
mirrors forth shadows the images of change in men's minds
from 1795 to 1869. But still in her life, from her birth in the
throes of England's fear and Europe's agony until this hour in

206

CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.

[May,

which we write, she expresses a great moral and social fact, the
strength of patience, the weakness of tyranny. It is the crys-
tallization into a truth that a nation's sufferance is mightier than
armed hosts upholding wrong.

When the first, grant of 8,000 a year was made by the Irish
Parliament, in 1795, it was confessed that the policy of the
penal laws had failed. The confession was, no doubt, extorted ;
for the old fear and the old hate remained in the Ascendency.
Disguise it as they might, in unexpected, unguarded moments
that hate and fear looked out. However, in the very hour we
speak of conciliation was sounded from the house-tops. Charle-
mont in his white wig, as he walked arm-in-arm in the grounds

44 THE RUINS OF THE GREAT FORTRESS OF THE GERALDINES LOOKING DOWN UPON HER."

of Ranelagh with the Duke of Leinster, admitted that it was
better Irish peasants should be taught religion by priests edu-
cated in Ireland than in those hot-beds of treason, the Irish
colleges abroad. Beauties under pyramids of snowy hair, in the
drawing-rooms of the castle, hoped that Lord-Lieutenancy would
recommend those poor Catholics to Parliament, and call Mr.
Grattan, their champion, into the ministry. No more draconian
enactments, no more fetters for Catholics as such, no more
private prisons, nor the lash, the pillory, the American set-
tlements.

There was a parallel between the disendowment of the Pres-
byterians and that of the Establishment if the principle which

1 895.] CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE. 207

underlay the measure was " No state endowment for any reli-
gion." But in what way did a purely educational grant come
into the question? Trinity College was unaffected by the act.
That is to say, no Catholic or Protestant Dissenter could obtain
a fellowship or foundation scholarship, or could have a particle
of influence on the government of the institution. It was still
maintained for the men of the Ascendency.

The Irish priests up to 1795 were educated in Paris or Lou-
vain, at Antwerp, Lisle or Douay, at Bordeaux or Rouen, at
Salamanca or St. Isidore's. They were polished gentlemen.
Like their kinsmen in the armies of every European power, they
stood apart from all around them by their grace, courtesy, and
.accomplishments. Not more certainly did Irish valor sustain
the fortunes of their adopted countries in times of danger and
difficulty than Irish scholarship illustrated their languages. The
.story of that island was known in every garrison, in every court,
in every camp from the Baltic to the Mediterranean, from the
Bay of Biscay to the Danube it was known in the monas-
teries, the universities, the episcopal cities. The penal times in
Ireland made her as well known through her priests and semi-
narians as she was known in the first three centuries of her
-Christianity by the labors of those saints whose shrines are to
be found everywhere over Europe. So well was this under-
stood by Englishmen of the last century and the early part of
this that when on the Continent they masqueraded as Irish-
men. A menace to the Irish oligarchy and the power that sus-
tained it existed in those friendly relations between Irish
Catholics and the nations of Europe. A paltry .8,000 a year
was a small sum to lay the spectre of this danger.

One sometimes hears people contrast those priests from the
Continent with the Maynooth men. Surely the Protestants who
.speak slightingly of the latter in comparison with the former
do not desire the re-enactment of the laws which made Catholic
education a felony. They do not wish that aspirants to the
priesthood should go abroad for their education with the pen-
alty of transportation on their return, and hanging if by chance
they should be found a second time in Ireland. Early in the
last century Swift grimly suggested to send the Irish Catholics
off to the North American settlements to serve as a barrier
between his majesty's English subjects and the Indians. Some-
thing like this would be the fate of the young Catholic priest
when he first stepped on his native soil after ordination.

This sentiment is a quaint, if not a vicious, survival from the

208

CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.

[May,

habits and feelings of the eighteenth century. What exasper-
ates one in connection with it is, that it is repeated by Irish
Catholics since the Land League. The Maynooth priest is the
black beast of the Catholic as well as the Protestant landlord.
The well-bred gentleman from the Irish College of Paris or
Salamanca or Rome would not touch the doctrines of dishonest
and disorderly tenants and their hireling leaders for the world !
We shall see what value there is in this historic preference for
the continental priest.

Irish society in the last century was the strangest olla
podrida ever cooked from robbery, revolution, recklessness, and

"THE SITE CHOSEN WAS A FORTUNATE ONE."

a wild bonhomie that at first startled and then intoxicated
strangers. Religion as such did not enter into the mess at all ;
but the status of the parson highly seasoned it. Nothing ever
cooked in the devil's privy-kitchen was so mad and profligate a
mixture as this Irish society and its Established Church.

We know how degraded the condition of the clergy of the
Church of England was in the last century. Swift in his
Directions to Servants remarked, that in a great house the chap-
lain was the. resource of the lady's maid whose character had
been blown upon. In " Tom Jones " we have Mrs. Seagrim, the
wife of a game-keeper, and Mrs. Honour, a waiting-woman, boast
of being clergymen's daughters or granddaughters. It was

1895.] CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE. 209

incomparably worse in Ireland, where non-resident bishops gave
powers of induction and power to confer such faculties as were
needed not only on their archdeacons, but on any canon of a
cathedral, and even upon the lawyers who acted as their vicars-
general. Consequently favorite servants were put in orders.

Those ignorant and low-born men, who necessarily constituted
the majority of the state-church clergy, of course presented a
marked contrast to the well-bred man of the world, the tra-
velled gentleman and scholar, who had come from abroad bear-
ing, perhaps, his life in his hands in order to keep the faith alive
in the popish graziers, farmers, and wretched, beggarly tenants who
lived high up on mountains and far in in the bogs. The great man
of the place welcomed and protected him as one who could tell of
the world of speech, of manners, of courts, of adventure of all
that had the throb of life in it ; so different to the stagnation,
sameness, and dry-rot of a country life, without duties or respon-
sibilities. This is how the tradition in Irish society concerning
those "wild geese " of the spiritual arm has come to our days with
so exaggerated a sense of the high qualities of those gentlemen.

Everything fostered it. The whole country was in a con-
spiracy against the law on account of the enormous duties on
Irish products and certain laws regulating their exportation.
Smuggling went on wholesale. The wool which should have
gone to a British port always found its way to France ; and in
return came back French brandy, claret, silks, and satins ; and
with these contrabands the more dangerous young seminary
priest and the recruiting sergeant for the brigade. All the time
government and Ascendency were resting peacefully on an awak-
ening earthquake, for terrible elements were coming together to
explode in their contact.

Strange, startling things were taking place in the world out-
side " the tight little island." Colonies had broken away and
proclaimed themselves the United States, and offered an asylum
to the oppressed peoples. France sprang up with the strength
and menace of a frenzied Titan. The crowned anarchs of the
world shook with ague when the representative of sixty kings
from Chilperic was put to death, and banded themselves against
this terrible French Republic. George III. "ordered" his Irish
Parliament to pass the great Catholic Relief Bill of 1793. The
squireens and other bigots of the Ascendency were no longer
listened to ; soldiers were needed, so were seamen. They could
be found in abundance among the Irish Catholics whose kins-
men had fought in every battle of the century from Dunkirk

VOL LXI. 14

210

CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.

[May,

to Belgrade. So the cannon of Jemappes introduced the bill
of 1793, showing themselves loud-voiced, excellent talkers, and
in due course the bill received the royal assent at the hands of
his majesty's lord lieutenant for his kingdom of Ireland.

But there was a danger still. The Catholic people were
ministered to by priests educated abroad. Better far, as the
Catholic religion was to be tolerated, that its priests should be
educated at home. They could be looked after there. This in-
terested counsel led to the establishment of Maynooth College,
with a grant of ^"8,000 a year from the Irish Parliament. The
site chosen was a fortunate one a country-house built for a

THE NEW CHURCH OF MAYNOOTH.

Protestant dignitary at the end of the little town of Maynooth
and under the shadow of the great castle of the Geraldines.
Every reader of Irish history is familiar with the siege of this
castle in the reign of Henry VIII., when the unfortunate Lord
Thomas Fitzgerald rebelled against that monarch. It was more
or less a religious war, too ; or, perhaps more correctly, Lord
Thomas linked his family grievances with the offence given to
good Catholics by Henry's assumption of supremacy. The region
is a romantic one full of associations calculated to stir the
hearts of the students to patriotic pride rather than impart an
affection for the happy institutions in church and state which
existed when the college was founded.

1895.] CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE. 211

Not far is Lucan, where that splendid gentleman and soldier,
Patrick Sarsfield, was born and bred he whose sad and beau-
tiful history is one of those rarest legacies humanity leaves be-
hind a legacy which Irishmen are so fortunate as to possess.

Not far beyond Lucan is quaint old Chapelizod, where James
II. slept the night before the Boyne ; a little to the right the
commandery of Kilmainham, from which the Knights of St.
John used to ride out in full panoply against the Irishry of
Leinster : for be it known to all whom it may concern, these
warrior monks had, or believed they had, the same privileges
from the Holy See to kill the Irish as to kill "infidel Turks,"
Saracens, and " heathen Moors." Very frequently their reverend
honors found the same Irishry tough customers, as we know
from the battle of Kilmainham and many other fields. In fact,
there was a war for ever going on, romantic as that of the
Christian, and Moor in Spain, of Scot and Southron on the Eng-
lish Border; and the very spot where the college stands was
the centre from which it took its form and motion for most of
the time. That great court of Maynooth Castle, even more
than the earl's embattled mansion in Thomas Court, Dublin, was
as full of policy and state-craft as the fortified palace of a Sforza
or a' Medici, a Scaliger or a Visconti. It was here he received
his Irish kinsmen and allies, O'Conor Offaly, O'Neil, O'Donell,
O'Carroll, when he wished to compel English majesty to ap-
point him his lord lieutenant in order to keep these same kins-
men and allies in order. Here, too, he received the barons of the
Pale when he had some other policy in view ; for every Earl of
Kildare's loyalty to English majesty varied in intensity with his
moods and interests. He gave his daughter in marriage to an
O'Donell of Tirconnell, or his sister to an O'Carroll, or married
his son to an O'Neil, just as if no Statute of Kilkenny made
such marriages high treason. When he proceeded in state as
newly appointed lord lieutenant some of those Irish cousins
were in his train or nearest to his person, or even preceded
him bearing the sword of state. The expectation among them
all along was that some earl would declare himself independent
and avow himself an Irish chieftain, instead of continuing the
pretence of being a mere Saxon earl.

In 1845 tne grant of the Irish Parliament was increased to
26,300 a year. From that forth Maynooth became a great
theological school. In the special subjects of their profession
her students have been second to none of the secular priest-
hood on the Continent of Europe or in the United Kingdom.

212

CENTENARY OF MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.

[May,

In the British colonies and in this country many of them are
to be found. Let them be taken one with another, and we
venture to say they will hold their own in philosophy, in dog-
matic and moral theology, with an equal number of the men of
any other college. The Irish people are justly proud of them.
There has not been a single political and social movement for the
welfare of the masses in which the priests trained in Maynooth
have not borne an honorable part. The testimony given to
their attainments, manners, integrity, and hospitality by English-
men who visited Ireland during the sharpest conflicts between
government and people under Mr. Balfour's administration is a

"THE STRENGTH OF PATIENCE."

very excellent test of the quality of education bestowed at
Maynooth.

To put it in a plain way, a member of the present cabinet,
Mr. Shaw-Lefevre, spoke of country priests whom he met in
Ireland very much in the manner Englishmen write or speak
of those scholarly Oxford men who, in a country parsonage,
under elms old as the manor-house whose ivied turrets rise
above the adjoining woods, pursue their studies with the critical
taste and relish imbibed at the university. Mr. Labouchere, one
of the ablest debaters in Parliament, a man cynical and accom-
plished as a patrician of 'the last days of the Roman Republic at
home amid his gardens with the plunder of a rich proconsulate,

1 8 9 5-]

" ECCE, VENIO"

213

awarded to some Maynooth priests generous praise for patriotism,
ability, and piety. We could give from our own knowledge
several instances in which Englishmen and women of rank and
influence expressed themselves in a similar manner during* the
same trying time.

So there can be no doubt but that this great institution
deserves well of Ireland, deserves a place in the hearts of Irish-
men to whom the religion is dear which preserved their nation-
ality despite a policy of extermination, or at least of political
extinction, that during seven hundred years only rested in those
short intervals when danger rendered it unsafe to continue it
just as we sometimes read in accounts of massacres " that the
men had to stop for awhile " in the butchery through down-
right weariness.*

'ECCE, VENIO.

BY ALBA.

HADOWS of Earth, I leave you all for ever ;

Vainly for me your gilded snares are spread.
Blest be the day that sees me from you sever,
Heaven's holy path to tread !

Long have your false allurements ceased to win me

Riches and rank and luxury and fame
Baubles like these can wake no chord within me,
Scorning an earthly name.

Come, holy veil ! In youth's unclouded morning,

When decked with all the giddy world calls fair,
Hath not my soul despised that poor adorning,
Sighing thy folds to wear ?

Hark ! how the longed-for chime at length is ringing.

Oh ! what a thrill of joy it brings to me,
Far from my sight Time's fleeting pleasures flinging,
Christ's happy bride to be !

*Such a thing happened when Cromwell took Drogheda, and in the sack of Rome
under the Constable de Bourbon.

214 SAE'S LAMP. [May,

SAE'S LAMP.

BY F. A. DOUGHTY.

[ AE had just finished her supper and risen from the
table when the latch clicked and Jeff stepped in.
He smiled blandly and took off his old felt hat as
politely as if she were the greatest lady in the land.
"Howdy, Sae?"

" Well, I ain' so well dis evenin', Jeff. I'se kinder mizbul,
my back so stiff I ain' good fo' nuffin dis blessed day. Wat
de news? Take dat cha'r an* set up to de table. I fought lak
as not you'd be comin' 'long arter while, an' I save' some nice
chicken-fixins ; dah dey is, jes' a spilin' fo' you on de stove ;
don't you hear 'em a-sizzlin' ? "

Jeff smacked his lips with evident appreciation as he partook
of this gastronomic tribute almost too hastily to ensconce him-
self comfortably in the seat offered.

" Ef you ain't de greatest gal I ever see to fix up a nice
meal o' vittles fo' a fellah ! Got to hurry home ; I jes' seen de
light a-burnin' fru dese heah windahs, an' I could'n help lookin'
in on you to pass de time o' day," said he, giggling good-na-
turedly between swallows.

The coffee-pot was standing on the table. Sae quickly poured
out a cupful and held it to his lips with a pose that was slightly
coquettish.

"Well, drink dis to warm you up, man. Would you believe
it, dat Sim done gone off an' lef dis kitchen widout a drap o'
watah ? De kettle is empty ; an' I a-gittin' so clumpsy wid dis
heah back I can't go ter de well widout mos' breakin' in two."

This hint was as strong as the coffee and as irresistible as
the " chicken-fixins " to the amiable Jeff, who at once felt that
as he had found time to take the refreshments, he must not be
so churlish as to decline the hint which followed close upon them.

"Gimme de bucket, Sae; I'll fill it fo' you."

" Oh, thankee, Jeff ! I wish you would. As you in sich a
swivet jes' step ober ter de well crost de road ; it too fur ter
Mr. Prince's well ter night."

As she handed him the large wooden bucket he drew his old
cape in place on his shoulders and hurried off, turning his head
again as he went out the door to say :

" I'll have dis watah heah fo' you kin say Jack Robinson ! "

1 895.] SAE'S LAMP. 215

Sae began muttering something about " Miss Conny "

" I like ter know w'at de matter wid dat well in de ole field ;
she say we mustn't go dah no mo' ? Nuffin' can't happen ter
water way down deep in a hole in de yarf ter pisen it. Young
folks sutin'y is cuse ! (curious) "

If fidelity was Sae's strong point conceit was her weak one,
the invincible conceit of ignorance ; she was an old maid, but it
is impossible to affirm with certainty that she had reached the
phenomenal age at which an old maid is sure she will never
marry. Some said her old friend Jeff, who was " raised " with
her, came courting ; others said he liked to come to Mrs. Ridge-
way's kitchen because the cook where he worked was cross and
over-particular, whereas Sae was always feeding him on choice
bits, and had the best seat ready for him by the fire ; whatever
the nature of his attentions, her culinary talent was at least a
charm in his eyes. No housekeeper of experience will deny
that a good cook, white or black, can marry only too readily.

The minutes went by one after another ; Jeff must surely
have met some other friend to " pass the time of day " with: he
was a sociable darky. Presently the hands of the kitchen clock
showed he had been gone half an hour.

Sae opened the door and peered out into the darkness ; she
heard footsteps.

" Is dat you, Jeff ? "

" No, dat me Sim."

The voice was gruffer than Jeff's. Sim was not " hail-fellow
well-met " with everybody, nor was he prone to run for buckets
of water to oblige his female friends unless they were in the
regular day's work expected of him. Though not so general a
favorite for temperamental reasons, he was, however, esteemed
among the negroes as a scholar whose opinion was of value, for
he could read and write.

" You can't have no suppah, niggah, t'well you run over to de
well in de field and see w'at come o' Jeff an' de bes' bucket ; he
doin' yo' work ; you went off an' lef us widout any water, you did."

Sim growled out something about " the cow " as he turned
to do her bidding, she standing in the open door till he re-
turned a few minutes later.

" Heah yo' bucket, Sae, but I ain't see no sign o' Jeff ; he
done fergit an' runned home, I s'pose ; Sim ain't de only one
who fergit sometimes, I reckon ! "

"Ton my word w'at come ober dese men? You fotch de
empty bucket ! Why you ain' filled it ? You got no haid ? "

" It was lyin' on de groun' by de side o' de well, 'oman, an'

216 SAE'S LAMP. [May,

w'en I stumble agin it I jes' pick it up an' come away, kase I
minded me Miss Conny say dat water no good now she got de
pints on dat. Ketch dis possom a-warrin' agin white folks when
he wukkin' fo' 'em ! I'll step over to Mr. Prince's quick as I
git my supper, Sae, an' fetch you all de water you want. Tears
like sumpin stop me at dat well in de field so I couldn't draw
no water. I'll be glad w'en our cistern git fixed."

" Tears like you mighty big fool, Sim dat w'at it 'pears to me !"

Sae gave the hungry man his supper ; then cleared up the
things in a mechanical fashion, as if her mind were dwelling on
something else. She walked about the kitchen uneasily during
the evening, jumping every time the door opened, as if she ex-
pected to see some one who did not come, and felt provoked
with the person who entered. ^Evidently Jeff's failing to return
as he promised was entirely inconsistent with the opinion she
entertained of him ; and if Sae prided herself on one thing
above all others it was her accurate reading of character.

The next morning when Sim came in to his breakfast, after
milking and bringing wood and water as usual, he fixed his
eyes steadily on Sae's face ; it was a meaning look in which
sorrow and accusation were blended.

" Ole 'oman," he began, "did you tell Brer' Jeffry Powell to
draw water from dat cussed well in de field ? Miss Conny she
right dis time ; dey done cunjuh dat well, somebody. In de
name o' goodness, answer me dis question : Is you sont Jeff
dah, or did he go onbeknownst to you ? "

Sim's voice was not loud, it was deep and sounded like an
avenging conscience. Sae trembled violently, she held on to a
chair for support, her face taking the ashen hue under its dark
color which is peculiar to ill and frightened negroes.

" Fo' Gawd's sake, Sim ! yes, I sont Jeff to dat well in de
fiel' w'at den?"

" We drag his daid body outen dat well a half hour ago, dat
w'at I got to tel you, 'oman ; de Lawd have mussy on you ! de
Lawd res' po' Brer' Jeffrey's soul ! "

Sae fell to the floor with a piercing scream.

II.

From that moment Sae was a different person ; to her mind
it was the judgment of Heaven laid heavily upon her that
caused Jeff's death, and remorse held her fast in a grip that
was cruel and inexorable. She sat by the kitchen fire rocking
herself to and fro, crying out in her despair these words over
and over again between piteous sobs :

1895.] SAX'S LAMP. 217

" Oh ! why didn't I listen to Miss Conny ? "

No one could assign an adequate reason for the accident
that befell Jeff ; true, the night was very dark and the ground
slippery with mud around the well, -but he was so familiar with
the place that these circumstances failed to account for it. Jeff
had no enemies, and Sim's theory, that the well had been " con-
juhed " by a malicious person in order to entrap somebody else,
was soon accepted by all the negroes, and they avoided the
place like a pest-house.

But one miserable comfort remained to Sae, and that was to
get up an imposing funeral for her unfortunate friend. Mrs.
Ridgeway, her old mistress in whose service she still lingered,
and the lady Jeff had been working for, were going to pay his
funeral expenses. Sae determined that he should have not only
the full number of hacks that constituted gentility to follow his
remains, but a respectable headstone to mark his grave, and at
once started a subscription for this object.

Jeff had been the eloquent speaker among the colored
brethren, always unanimously chosen to do the talking at public
meetings since the proclamation that gave them their freedom.
Sim was the forcible writer, and on this mortuary occasion drew
up a paper, at Sae's request, asking the aid of the villagers in
this wise :

" JEFFREY POWELL.

"And he was drownded all of a sudden in the well over in
the old field.

" Ladies and Gentlemens please Proscribe for the poor old
boy ! Father Sherrard thinks he is worthy of A System an' a
Monument and therefore I put up this Proscriptum."

All tremulous and tearful, dressed in black, Sae carried this
paper from house to house, both white and colored friends con-
tributing, as much out of sympathy for her as esteem for the
deceased. All saw that she had crossed a boundary line ; that
no longer middle-aged in appearance, she looked like a sorrow-
stricken old woman ; she shrank from the pity she roused, speech
pained, and silence accused her.

After Jeff had been followed to the cemetery on the hill-
side by a long procession of solemn-faced negroes, the ceremon-
ies of religion performed by the priest, and the monument
erected over his grave, there came a time at last when no fur-
ther excitement over his untimely end stirred the daily current,
and Sae was left to an awful solitude in her distress : the world
in any circle soon closes over the gap death makes. She missed
Jeff's visits more than she could tell any one, and realized that

218 SAE'S LAMP. [May,

the pleasantest thing in all her simple life was gone for ever
beyond recall.

The Monday after the funeral was court day ; soon after
breakfast Sae disappeared, and no one knew where she went.
She did not return till late in the afternoon ; then her step was
uncertain, her manner wild, and the explanation she gave of her
absence so incoherent that -Miss Constance could not understand
it ; she looked at her with grave solicitude, for such a thing as
Sae's leaving them alone to get dinner had never before happened.

" Is she going crazy ? " pondered the lady. " Oh, dear me !
I can't help blaming myself ; but why should I ? I told them all
to keep away from the well ; I didn't send him to it." Con-
science, nevertheless, continued to prick Miss Ridgeway for some
reason or other.

Finally it came out through Father Sherrard, the village
priest, that Sae spent every Monday in the woods, for fear the
constable should arrest her and take her to the court to be
tried for murder. The priest saw her one day while walking in
a woody path to say his " office " (the little Maryland village
was mostly Roman Catholic). The young father had great in-
fluence in the Ridgeway house, from the mistress down to the
man-servant and maid-servant within the gates. Of late, too, he
had been calling socially with a cousin of his, Mr. Wilton

Devries, who was staying at his own house. Gossip in F

was quick enough to report that Mr. Devries was in love with
Miss Constance Ridgeway ; but if she looked favorably upon the
handsome, dark-eyed stranger in return for his evident admira-
tion there was no proof of it, for her manner towards him
during those calls with the priest had the usual colorless chill
of her favorite white chrysanthemums.

Her mother was violently opposed to matrimony in connec-
tion with this vestal ; though that lady often spoke of dying, in
reality she hoped to live a good while, her malady not being
immediately dangerous, and she clung with the querulous de-
pendence of a chronic invalid to her daughter, viewing askance
any man who was bold enough to come courting her.

Sae stood at the gate one evening in the late twilight, the
afterglow rapidly fading from a bright yellow to a rich burnt
orange, then darkening into neutral tints as the moon rose.
She did not want to look towards the fatal well, but her eyes
instinctively wandered in that direction.

Now, as the moonlight brought the field and everything over
there into prominence, she could distinctly see a man's figure lean-
ing over the side of that well the cape, the slouch hat oh, horror !

1 895.] SAE'S LAMP. 219

" Lawd, come take po' Sae home ! " she shrieked ; " Jeff's
hant a-comin' arter me ! "

Then, burying her head in her hands to shut out everything,
feeling that a dread presence was following on her steps, she
rushed blindly into the kitchen.

III.

Father Sherrard was engaged in making his private thanks-
giving after Mass, kneeling at a prie-dieu in the sacristy; this
being a week-day, but very few worshippers were at the early
services and those few had dispersed.

The sacristy door opened softly ; a negro woman peeped in
with a startled, hunted look in her eyes as they flew from one
side of the room to another, embracing everything there in an
instant ; and seeing the priest alone, she came in, closing the
door after her, then falling on her knees not far from him she
bowed her head low as if about to kiss the floor itself in her
humility. Her attitude said more plainly than any words :

" Oh, let me find rest somewhere ! Let me hold on to you,
father, and just get inside the gates of Heaven. Help poor old
Sae out of her misery! You can only you.''

The two were no restraint upon each other ; they were alone
with their God, united in their self-effacement.

She drew one deep sigh and groan after another, as if to
bring all the pent-up woe of the last fortnight to bear upon
the realms above.

The priest's thank-offering over, he rose to his feet :

" What can I do for you, Sarah ? " he asked, his serious,
deep-set eyes resting pityingly upon her face.

" O father ! " she gasped, looking full upon him through her
tears, " I come heah so you won't let de debil cotch me an'
drag me down to hell ! I ain' never mean to drown Jeff."

" Of course you did not," said the priest soothingly ; " no
one thinks, you did."

" Me an' him was de best friends in dis worl', we was ; an'
now de pattyroller's huntin' roun' for me a' Monday ; dey'll take
me to de court an' git de jedge to hang me fo' murder. An'
wuss'n all, Jeff hiss 'ef he comiri a hantin me, kase I sont him to
his deff in de well fo' he kin hab de las' offices o' de church.
I seen him leanin' over dar de yuther night; I knowed him by
his cape an' his hat t'want nobody but Jeff, father. I mos'
'stracted ; I don' want to live, yet I fear'd to die. Ef I could
go straight to Heben, I'd like to die right away."

" So would I ! " said the young priest with a faint sigh, " but

220 SA'S LAMP. [May,

we must wait till our "work is done before we can be released.
I have been praying for you, Sae, just now, when I saw you
come in and kneel down near me. Now, first of all you must
give up the idea that you caused Jeffrey's death. If he had not
been drowned that night how do you know something worse
might not have befallen him ? Death is often a friend when we
think it an enemy, and human beings are used as instruments
to carry out the divine will. I am sorry, too, that he was de-
prived of the last consolations of the church ; but he was regu-
lar in his duties, and let us trust that while he was drowning
our Blessed Lord sent him one moment of perfect faith, sub-
mission, and love. It is to those who are in the path of per-
severance that such moments are granted."

Sae was still kneeling, her uplifted gaze fixed eagerly upon
the priest's face. If comfort failed her in this quarter she
would be like one astray in the Great Desert.

The father felt humbled by Sae's veneration. To himself he
was a weak and commonplace mortal ; her childlike confidence
touched him.

" I think I can comfort her without implicating Constance
and Wilton," he said to himself, and a vision of the young cou-
ple who seemed made for each other crossed his mind. He was
specially interested in these lovers who had taken into their
confidence the man sworn to celibacy ; priests and nuns often
have a hand in match-making.

" Sarah," he began, " I have something to tell you that you
must never mention to any one. Miss Constance knows a lady
and gentleman who sometimes walk in that grove back of the
old field in the evening ; they have affairs of their own to dis-
cuss they would not like to have heard, so she asked you all
not to draw water from that well ; the water itself was no worse
and no better than usual, it was only that the lady and gentle-
man who were in the habit of walking there did not want to be
observed. She has asked me to explain this to you, so you
need no longer distress yourself about having disregarded her
wish, or think that Jeff's death was a judgment on your disobe-
dience. She is very much troubled about it all, and you must
be careful to say nothing more to her on the subject. The
man in the cape and hat you saw was not Jeff, I will answer
for that ; he 'was the gentleman I have been telling you about,
and he was there waiting to speak with that lady. I saw him
too ; I know who he is."

" Praise de Lawd ! " Sae's face cleared, a balm stole over
her excited nerves. She seized Father Sherrard's hand and

1 895.] SAE'S LAMP. 221

kissed it, he smiling gently upon her, knowing too that the re-
lief he had given would only be temporary. To bind up this
broken heart something more was needed.

He walked up and down the sacristy, his hands clasped be-
hind his back, with a secret invocation for wisdom. An answer
came.

" Sarah, there is one little thing you will be permitted to do
for Jeff besides praying for him ; you can burn a lamp on the
altar of our Lady of Perpetual Succor for the repose of his soul,
that he may forgive your mistake, and may not return to haunt
you with any unfilled wish. Put him in the care of our Lord
and he will not want to return. I will say a Mass for your in-
tentions that they may be carried to the Heavenly Court."

" I so glad dey is sumpin Sae kin do fer Jeff ! An' he won't
come a ha'ntin' me no mo'? An' de jedge he won't hang me?"

" No one shall trouble you ; go in peace ! "

Tears of gratitude poured down her cheeks. The early morn-
ing sunshine just then broke through the high, small windows
of the sacristy ; coming at this moment it seemed as if a father's
love were investing this common, daily manifestation of his power
with a new meaning. The light crowned the brow of the priest
and lit up Sae's prostrate figure, shining all through her dark-
ened soul.

The hardest part of a bereavement like hers is the necessity
of being passive. Now that she was given something to do for
Jeff he was not entirely lost to her.

A few years ago I spent a summer on a summit of the Alle-
ghenies in an old, still primitive Maryland village.

The house adjoining the unpretending Catholic Church
looked as if the same architect had designed it. The arsenic-
green shutters had the same tint, and the shape of both build-
ings suggested the monotony of barracks, but the church was
still alive, mountaineers and negroes going in and out of it
daily, while the house was the corpse only of a home ; not a
door or window ever open on the front garden, where weeds
grew in bold confusion. No slumberer there would be awak-
ened by the clanging Angelus bell which too often reached my
couch along with the morning fragrance of balsamy solitudes.

One day at last I did see a figure, an old colored woman,
issue from the rear of that deserted house, and then on closer,
more curious inspection I discovered 'that the kitchen precincts
had a tenant. The villagers told me her name was Sae, that
she took care of the Ridgeway homestead, and that the only

222 SAE'S LAMP. [May,

survivor of the family, a Mrs. Devries, was now living in Balti-
more. It had been rented at times as a summer boarding-
house, but was now out of repair, falling into decay. Sae's
figure was bent so nearly double that she presented a strong
appeal to a stranger's sympathy ; but all declared that this
stooping, the effect of rheu'matic attacks, was more of a habit
than a necessity, that she would now and then stand erect in
moments of self-forgetfulness and was still able to do light
work. In the long mountain winter, when her resources were
precarious, she was kindly assisted by Mrs. Devries, formerly
Miss Constance Ridgeway.

Sae's withered face was full of meaning ; no record was there of
a girl's merry-making or of a mother's love ; it bore the distinct
traces of some great volcanic upheaval, of a tragedy ; it showed
too that the curtain had risen upon a victory in the last act.

The village was very dull, and after awhile watching for
the exits of the mysterious custodian of the Ridgeway home-
stead became one of my sources of interest. I observed that
she went often into the church, and sometimes it pleased me to
follow her there to her devotions.

She always spent some minutes bowed in prayer before the
main altar, raising her head at intervals to look at a highly
colored picture above it. Then rising and walking reverently to
a smaller side altar, she would take up a little red glass lamp,
no larger than a finger-bowl, that was burning there and carry
it into the sacristy ; returning in a few minutes, she would
replace this lamp on the altar without disturbing the ornaments
and flowers. Judging from the light it gave through the glass,
the wick must have been a mere taper.

The priest who ministered in this church was a middle-aged
man with a benevolent face ; after making his acquaintance, I
one day asked him what was the significance of Sae's peculiar
habit, her attention to that special lamp ?

" That lamp has been burning on this altar twenty years and
more," he said, after telling me something of her life story.
" Sae is one of the wise virgins." Then memory shaded his
smile, and he added : " When it goes out on the altar we shall
know that Sae's Master has called her up higher."

The light of many a life has gone out as the Death-Angel
passed by and still Sae's lamp has burned on, not all the storms
of mountain winters have been able to extinguish it. That tiny
flame savecl her reason and is still the preserver of her hard-won
peace, the watch-fire of her hea.rt.

1 89 5.] CREATION AND THE DELUGE.I&

ANCIENT MONUMENTAL RECORDS OF CREATION
AND THE DELUGE.

REV. R. M. RYAN..

; T is a curious and very significant fact that at the
very time that living philosophers are busied dis-
proving the Mosaic account of creation and the
Noachian deluge, the dead past is heard declar-
ing its belief in both in most forcible and effec-
tive language. Assyrians, Babylonians, Phoenicians, Egyptians,
the oldest nations in the world, concur in this with the Hebrews ;
and, from the tombs where they have lain for nearly three thou-
sand years, to-day unite in a common profession of faith. From
the other nations of the East, and even from the aborigines of
the New World and Oceanica, mutterings of concurrence, more
or less distinct, may also be perceived. True the various archaeo-
logical accounts do not agree in every detail of form and
sequence; but, after making due allowance for the modifications
and corruptions unavoidable amongst nations so varied, so separ-
ated for centuries, so different in customs, language, and social
and religious peculiarities, it is more a matter of wonder that the
accounts are so similar than that some discrepancies should be
found between them. In the main features, which the critics
think they have disproved, there is a most singular agreement.
The oft-referred-to subjects of Creation and the Deluge, as re-
corded on ancient monuments, may be once more profitably
quoted for the readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, who may
not all have easy access to works wherein these accounts are
treated of in a sufficiently popular manner to arrest the atten-
tion of other than exegetical scholars.

In the manner of treating both subjects the Chaldean cunei-
form records are in most striking accord with those of the Bible.
Matter and its various modifications, light, water, land, plants,
and animals, are represented in both as coming into existence
by divine operation, and as conserved by divine power. They
also speak of primitive human delinquency which God punished
with a deluge, from which some few just people alone were saved.
The order of the days of creation is the same in both. The be-
ginning of all was the same primeval chaos, out of which divine

224 ANCIENT MONUMENTAL RECORDS [May,

power and skill evoked order ; the appointment of the heavenly
bodies to rule the day and the night, and the final creation
of the animals when the earth was ready to receive them, are
almost identical with Genesis.

Since the death of Mr. Smith, who discovered these deeply
interesting " prehistoric " histories, other fragments have been
unearthed that confirm, continue, and even emphasize the resem-
blance. Selections from these venerable tablets may not be un-
interesting to those readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD who may
not have had an opportunity of perusing Mr. Smith's work.

In these beautiful words the account of creation opens :
"When on high the heavens proclaimed not, and earth be-
neath recorded not a name, then the abyss of waters was in the
beginning their generator ; the chaos of the deep was she who
bore them all. The waters were embosomed together, and the
plant was ungathered, the herb of the field ungrown." The
account continues in genuine oriental fashion to treat the ele-
ments as personal and quasi-god-like, opposing the mighty power
putting them in order. Thus, after conquering them the god
(Merodach), who is represented as the creator, after appointing
the signs of the zodiac : " For each of the twelve months he
fixed three stars from the day when the year issues forth to its
close. He founded the mansions of the sun-god who passes
along the ecliptic, that they might know their bounds, that they
might not err, that they might not go astray in any way. . ...
He illuminated the moon-god that he might be watchman of
the night, and ordained for him the ending of the night that
the day may be known, (saying) : ' Month by month, without
break, keep watch in thy disc. At the beginning of the month
rise brightly in the evening, with glittering horns, that the' hea-
vens may know. On the seventh day halve thy disc.' '

The rest of this tablet is destroyed, and only the opening
lines of the next tablet have been preserved, which are as fol-
lows :

" At that time the gods in their assembly created (the beasts ?)
They made perfect the mighty (monsters?) They caused the
living creatures (of the field ?) to come forth, the cattle of the
field, (the wild beasts of the field), and the creeping things (of the
field ?) " The lines that follow are too mutilated for continuous
translation ; but from the scraps that can be deciphered it is
learned that chaos was overcome and its place superseded by
order and living creatures, amongst whom, in all probability,
man is named as having been formed last. But this cannot be

1895.] OF CREATION AND THE DELUGE. 225

asserted positively until the remaining portions have been recov-
ered from the debris.

Abstracting from the characteristic Eastern personification in
the form of polytheism that underlies it, and the materialism as a
consequence pervading it throughout, the resemblance to the
biblical record both in plan and sequence is most striking. This
is still more so in the account of the deluge.

Listening to these strange resuscitated witnesses speaking
after over four thousand years of sepulchral silence, one cannot
but be filled with astonishment and admiration for the wonder-
ful providence that reserved their discovery until the very time
they were most needed. That they should afford authentic in-
formation on questions that really could not be settled in any
other way is no less remarkable. And, whilst doing so in his-
torical matters that bear on revelation, they also indirectly sup-
ply evidence tending to uphold truths concerning which, even
when the last word has been said by the objector, enough re-
mains to make him inexcusable if he pursue not the inquiry to
its legitimate ending, which seems to be full verification of the
Sacred Scriptures in their otherwise least easily demonstrated
part.

The account already quoted concerning creation is less clear
and full than the one about the deluge. Both are, of course,
no more than instances of the universal persuasion found
amongst all races and handed down in every tongue from
remotest times to our own day, in language and form more or
less precise according to the degree of civilization of the people
from whom they emanate.

Only extracts can be given, for the fragments that have been
exhumed are too long and contain too many irrelevant refer-
ences for a magazine article. As might be expected, they
abound also with redundant oriental adjuncts, mere fictions of
the scribe, or the accretions of story-tellers. This tablet record
is also full of mythological personifications and is told in the first
person singular by the narrator.

" Sisuthros," (who thus) " spake unto him, even unto
Gilgames. Let me reveal unto thee, O Gilgames, the tale of
my preservation, and the oracle of the gods let me declare unto
thee." Thus it opens, and then goes on to declare how "the
gods set their hearts to cause a flood." The Ea, the lord of
wisdom, spoke to Surippok, son of Ubara-Tutu, saying : " Frame
a house, build a ship ; leave w r hat thou canst ; seek life ! Resign
goods and cause (thy) soul to live, and bring all the seed of
VOL. LXI. 15

226 ANCIENT MONUMENTAL RECORDS [May,

life into the ship. As for the ship which thou shalt build;
. . . cubits in measurement (shall be) its length, and . . .
cubits the extent of its breadth and height." Gilgames, after
asking and being told what he should answer to the people who
would question him concerning his ship-building, thus proceeds :
" I fashioned its side and closed it in ; I built six stories (?) ;
I divided it into seven parts ; its interior I divided into nine
parts. ... I poured six sars of pitch over the outside,
three sars of bitumen over the inside. . . . With all that I
possessed of the seed of life of all kinds I filled it. I brought
into my ship all my slaves and handmaids ; the cattle of the
field, the beasts of the field, the sons of my people. The Sun-
god appointed the time and utters the oracle : In the night I
will cause the heavens to rain destruction ; enter into the ship
and close the door. The time drew near. ... I watched
with dread the dawning of the day." . . . Here follows a
most graphic description of the storm, but in the manner usual
with pagans, attributing every phenomenon to some god or
demi-god :

"When I had closed the ship . . . (there) arose from the
horizon of heaven a black cloud ; the storm-god, Rimmon, thun-
dered in its midst ; and Nebo and Merodach the king marched
in front ; the throne-bearers marched over the mountain and
plain ; the mighty Death lets loose the whirlwind ; Uras marches,
causing the rain to descend ; the spirits of the underworld lifted
up their torches. The violence of the storm-god reached to
heaven ; all that was light was turned to darkness. The earth
like . . . perished. . . . Brother beheld not his brother,
men knew not one another." .

" Six days and nights rages the wind, the flood and the storm
devastate. The seventh day when it arrived the flood ceased,
the storm which had fought like an army rested, the sea sub-
sided, and the tempest of the deluge was ended. I beheld the
deep and uttered a cry, for the whole of mankind was turned to
clay. Like the trunks of trees did the bodies float. I opened
the window and the light fell upon my face ; I stooped and sat
down weeping ; over my face ran my tears. I beheld a shore
beyond the sea ; twelve times distant rose a land. On the
mountain of Nizir the ship grounded ; the mountain of the
country of Nizir held the ship and allowed it not to float."
Then he recounts how after seven days more he " sent forth a
dove and let it go. The dove went and returned ; a resting-

1 89 5.] OF CREATION AND THE DELUGE. 227

place it found not and it turned back. I sent forth a swallow
and let it go ; the swallow went and returned ; a resting-place
it found not and it turned back. I sent forth a raven and let
it go. The raven went and saw the going down of the waters,
and it approached, it waded, it croaked, and did not turn back.
Then I sent forth (everything) to the four points of the com-
pass ; I offered sacrifices, I built an altar on the summit of the
mountain. . . . The gods smelt the sweet savor. . . .
The great goddess lifted up the mighty bow which Anu had
made according to his wish." . . . Afterwards Uras is repre-
sented as uttering a petition that the " sinner bear his own sin,
the evil-doer bear his own evil-doing. Grant that man be not cut
off ; that he be not destroyed. Instead of causing a deluge,
let lions come and minish mankind ... or hyenas . .
or famine ... or the plague."

This history of the deluge, as given in the Chaldean brick
records, is introduced as an episode in a great epic which is
thought to have been composed about two thousand years before
the Christian era, and, therefore, so near the Noachian deluge
as to have been easily learned from the survivors' children or
their immediate descendants.

As the critics' occupation would be gone if they found
nothing in it to be called in question, rather than admit either
that the composer learned it from the Hebrews, or that it and
the Biblical account came from a common source, which is
much more likely, they claim that the author of Genesis
copied it from the Chaldean records than which, on the very
face of it, nothing could seem more absurd. So interwoven
with it are that idolatrous people's mythological absurdities, and
so tinctured with the peculiar coloring of the East are all its
parts, that it is impossible to conceive how another Eastern
scribe could translate and evolve from it an edition entirely
dissimilar, except in the leading facts, and distinguished for
opposite characteristics, viz., simplicity, directness, and rigid
monotheism.

The ninth and tenth chapters of Genesis, which immediately
follow the account of the deluge, contain lengthened genealo-
gies, with names of places and other matter which, were they
not genuine, could easily be made to disprove the whole record,
were that possible. They have been tentatively and extensively
employed for this purpose by unbelievers, the gist of whose
arguments is that the names and places there mentioned are
fabulous, and altogether unknown to ancient historians and

228 ANCIENT MONUMENTAL RECORDS [May,

geographers. Nimrod, Corner, Gog and Magog, and Madai
have been " proved " a hundred times never to have existed ;
but lo ! they now walk forth, as it were, in proprid persond, out
of the Babylonian dust-heaps. In these wonderful libraries they
are specifically mentioned in companionship with contemporary
events and of the deeds of then living heroes, which necessarily
had to have the places of their performance reported. Their
location and that of many other Biblical cities and nations can
now be easily identified. Moreover, thanks to these monuments,
the errors of ancient history and ancient geography, of over
two thousand years' standing, can now be corrected, and in
future be made appear, not as hitherto, contradictory of the
Bible, but in most extraordinary accordance with it.

One illustration must suffice. It was well known to all
historians that the Hittites occupied the northern part of Syria ;
yet repeated references are made to them in Scripture as being
in the south ; in fact, Jerusalem, the capital, is certified by
Ezechiel xvi. 3 as having had for father an Amorrhite and
for mother a Hittite. Now, this seemed quite incompatible
to critics, and on " their lines " was, of course, adjudged ab-
surd.

These Amorrhites and Hittites were races different in color
and language as well as in residence. The Amorrhites were
blonds, tall of stature, and from the south. The Hittites were
brunettes, yellow, and lozenge-eyed a kind of compromise
between the Mongolian and negro, and resided in the north
from the very earliest times. How could two so divergent
races be the joint founders of Jerusalem ? The tablets of Tel-
el-Amarna inform us. When the Egyptian power over Pal-
estine and Phoenicia relaxed, the Hittites, their north-eastern
neighbors, made encroachments which resulted, according to the
tablets, in their driving out the Egyptians, and establishing
themselves in their stead, before the rise of the nineteenth
Egyptian dynasty. Here they intermingled with the Amorrhites,
and to-day specimens of both races can be traced.

A further proof of the Bible's accuracy in this matter is
afforded by the sculptures on the walls of Karnak, where Hit-
tite prisoners are represented amongst those taken by Ramses
II. in his wars in southern Palestine, which accounts for the
possibility of Hittites and Amorrhites founding Jerusalem.

Let us take another illustration. Archaeologists are quite
hopeful of finding the Babylonian version of the confusion of
tongues at Babel, which has been a kind of standing joke with

1 895.] OF CREATION AND THE DELUGE. 229

the philologists. Mr. Smith discovered fragments of a tablet
referring to it, in which are found such expressions as " the
holy mound," that " small and great mingled " it ; how the god
" in anger destroyed the secret design " of the builders and
" made strange their counsel," and similar references. One of
the months corresponding with our September and October
was called after it. It is probable, also, that the mound known
now to the Arabs as Babil marks the - very site where it once
stood. As everybody knows, this is another Biblical fact which
the " critics " had resolved, like almost all the others of Genesis,
into a series of idealistic fictions.

From these references it is not to be concluded that all the
Scripture records can be verified, by the Egyptian or Assyrian
remains. Nor is there any need of such verification. More than
enough has been already done in this way to deprive the critic
and the sceptic of any excuse for his rejection of Holy Scrip-
ture, on the ground of insufficient scientific testimony to its his-
torical accuracy. Of its doctrinal and moral teaching he is in
no way entitled to any such evidence, no more than he would
be of the laws of harmonics, or of the principles of the social,
political, or philosophical sciences. Religion belongs to a dif-
ferent and sublimer order, and for verification of its teaching
he must look elsewhere than to mere history or archaeology.

It may be interesting to glance at the latest discoveries and
see if they do not offer other corroborative evidence of some
leading Scriptural narratives, as, at one time or another, they
have all been called in question. But before proceeding, it is
well to remember, that in the decipherment of the newly un-
earthed records the archaeologists who study them are not in
the same uncertainty about their meaning as the philologists,
of whom we complain, whose derivation and significance of
ancient Aramaic words led them into such extravagant conclu-
sions. Although the tablets are written in extinct languages
and in cuneiform characters, their translation has become com-
paratively easy and certain, by the aid of lexicon tablets, which
have been discovered in connection with them. Many of them,
also, are written in three different languages (but treating of the
same subject), which affords an almost perfect criterion of faith-
fulness, not only of the records themselves but of their de-
cipherment. Professor Flinders Petrie in 1892 discovered several
of these brick dictionaries at Tel-el-Amarna. Some of them
contain Sumerian words written both ideographically (that is,
for ideas as 8 does not represent the word " eight," but the

230 ANCIENT MONUMENTAL RECORDS [May,

idea of number) and phonetically (according to their pronuncia-
tion). Others are comparative dictionaries containing equivalents
in different languages.

This explains how many interviews, interpretations of dreams,
etc., related in the Bible could have taken place which the
critics say were palpably impossible.

Speaking of dreams, suggests the remarkable one that led
to Joseph's exaltation in Egypt. As a beautiful and pathetic
history the critics are well pleased to rank it amongst the pret-
tiest of its kind ; but it is one of many such, they say, abound-
ing in the East, which are related by story-tellers for the in-
struction and amusement of their listeners, but which are, of
course, all mythical. This beautiful " myth " crystallizes now,
under the light of the tablets, into a solid historical fact, at least
in its main features, and we have every reason to believe that in
its minor details, also, it is strictly accurate.

Although the calculations of the learned critics, especially
those of the " higher " class for things of this kind they say
specially pertain to them resulted in " demonstrating" that there
was no failure in the rise of the Nile at or near the time which
the Bible account refers to, the Egyptian monuments tell a
different tale and turn the tables on the over-learned critics.
The seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine,
have received entire confirmation by them. We are indebted
to Brugsch Pasha's work, The Bible and the Seven Years of
Famine, Leipzig, 1892, for the discovery of a hieroglyphic in-
scription on the wall of a tomb at El-Kab of a certain Baba,
who must have lived about the time of Joseph, which makes
explicit mention of it. It records that " when a famine arose
lasting many years he issued corn to the city each year of the
famine."

The seven years of plenty and seven years of famine have
received still further confirmation from another curious hiero-
glyphic inscription, discovered by Mr. Wilbour in the island
Sahel, which lies almost in* the centre of the first cataract of
the Nile. It reads : " In the year eighteen of the king . . .
this message was brought to Madir, prince of the cities of the
South Land, and director of the Nubians in Elephantine this
message of the king was brought to him : * I am sorrowing
upon my high throne over those who belong to the palace. In
sorrow is my heart for the great misfortune, because the Nile-
flood in my time has not come for seven years. Light is the
grain, there is lack of crops and of all kinds of food.' ' In the

i8 9 S-]

OF CREATION AND THE DELUGE.

231

end the god Khum is recorded as having come to the rescue
of the Pharaoh and his subjects by years of plenty.

The Arabic historian El-Makrizi testifies to the possibility of
a seven years' famine owing to the lowness of the Nile, and to
its terrible ravages, in an account of one that happened between
1064 A.D. and 1071 ; for not only do unbelievers deny the fact
of the famine, but the likelihood and even the possibility of it.

From these references taken at random and they could
easily be multiplied the conclusion naturally suggested is that,
even on the purely human historical basis, believers in the
Sacred Scriptures have nothing to fear, but a great deal to
hope, from honest criticism and investigation. Truth can never
antagonize itself, and so long as it is earnestly and reverently
sought, in subjects bearing on or connected with the sacred
records, no developments that are conformable to fact and
reason can be otherwise than conformable to them and may
help to shed light on many parts that are now obscure or
difficult of comprehension. How becoming, therefore, to ex-
pect that when the whole matter is thoroughly investigated and
understood no matter how adverse it may seem at first it will
eventuate in the future, as in the past, in perfect conformity
with the divinely inspired word of God.

232

AGNES OF DUNBAR.

[May,

AGNES OF DUNBAR.

BY LILIAN A. B. TAYLOR.

BRIGHT and fair the sunbeams fall
On the castle's rugged wall,
Frowning keep, and donjon tall,
Where the winds blow free ;
From a high and craggy verge,
Where,*like sound of funeral dirge,
Tosses wild the angry surge,
It looks out to sea.

But upon the sea-girt strand
Is encamped an armed band ;
Dread and stern the fort doth stand

Frowning, dark, and gray;
Dunbar's fortress will not yield
To such foe, in such a field,
Ocean's waves its hope and shield,

Ocean's waves its stay.

In the tower of dark gray stone,
Where the winds and waves make moan,
Countess Agnes stands alone,

Gazing o'er the sea ;
Loosely falls her long black hair,
As, unheeding, stands she there,
Looking through the misty air

Where the fleet may be.

While her lord has gone afar,
In his sovereign's ranks of war,
She the fortress of Dunbar

Holdeth in his stead ;
For her rightful king and liege,
Bravely stands the dreadful siege

That Montague hath led.

Once by ocean's foaming tide
Salisbury's proud earl did ride,
A knight in armor by his side,
Down the dangerous path ;

1 895-] AGNES OF D UNBAR.

From the castk sped .a dart,
Reached his armor's weakest part,
"Agnes' love-shafts pierce the heart,"
Said the earl in wrath.

Still the days and weeks go past,
Each more awful than the last,
Still the engines, grim and vast,

Hurl their missiles down ;
Swiftly falls the deadly rain,
And the thunders crash again ;
Still no sail doth cross the main,

Ever dark its frown.

Sure 'twere no disgrace to yield,
When in such unequal field,
To a noble foe ;

Maddened that a woman's hand
Should resist his mighty band,
Haughty Montague doth stand,

Sworn to lay it low.

And she taunts him with the truth
That his gallant force, in sooth,
She can hold at bay ;

For the battlements are strong,
And, intrenched within them, long
Hath she balked the angered throng

Of their wished-for prey.

Not alone to fortress hold,
Not alone to vassals bold,
Firmly trusteth she ;

In her chapel, bowed in prayer,
Night and morn she kneeleth there,
Seeking strength and solace where

Only it can be.

Oh ! 'tis weary thus to wait,
Struggling, hoping adverse fate
Will not bring, when all too late,

Rescue that must come ;
Yet her heart doth never fail,
Nor the noble spirit quail ;
Can that be a distant sail,

Far across the foam ?

233

234 AGNES OF DUNBAR. [May.

On the wide horizon's rim,
Where the circling sea-gulls skim,
What is that so faint and dim

In the crimson west ?
Breathless, o'er the tossing sea,
From the lattice gazes she ;
Hope and fear alternately

Rise within her breast.

Out upon the swelling tides,
Breaking on the lofty sides,
There, at last, in safety rides,

Far, a gallant fleet :
Brave and true, though long delayed,
Ramsay brings the sought-for aid,
She had hoped in, undismayed ;

Oh, that moment 's sweet !

Dark and stern, the wrathful foe,
Foiled and baffled, turns to go,
Muttering threats of vengeance low,
As when storm-winds fiercely blow,

Raves the sullen main ;
Little of his wrath recks she,
For Dunbar once more is free,
And those weeks of misery

Have not been in vain.

'Mid the bright and deathless band
Of those heroines who stand,
Battling for their native land,

In the days afar :
Strong and brave to do and dare,
Conquering weakness and despair,
Worthily she standeth there,

Agnes of Dunbar.

This incident took place during the minority of David II. of Scotland, the son of
Robert Bruce, during the brief regency of the Earl of Mar. Edward Baliol, supported by a
powerful party of English barons, had invaded Scotland. During the ensuing wars the
Castle of Dunbar, a very important fortress, was besieged by Montague, Earl of Salisbury,
against whom it was defended by the celebrated Countess of March. She was the daughter of
the regent Moray, and inherited "all his patriotic valor. On account of her dark hair and
complexion she was usually called " Black Agnes of Dunbar." Her husband was away with
the regent's forces, and knowing well the importance of holding the strong fortress of
Dunbar, she held the castle for nineteen weeks against Montague's forces, until a fleet bring-
ing supplies of men and provisions at length came to her relief, under the command of
Alexander Ramsay of Dalwolsey. The Earl of Salisbury, despairing of success, raised the
siege. The incident mentioned in the fifth verse is a true one.

HEAD OF THE SAVIOUR, IN " THE LAST SUPPER."

THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

EW minds have helped our imagination to realize
the greatest event in Christianity, as the found-
ing of the Eucharist must be regarded, as Leo-
nardo da Vinci did. Whilst the Christian religion
lasts his wonderful painting of the Last Supper
will be known and marvelled at. The walls on which it is
worked may crumble away under the weight of ages, but the
work will be transmitted, for it possesses the imperishable quali-
ties of truth and beauty.

Genius, a great authority dogmatizes, is the art of taking
pains. We should have many more people of genius in the
world if that definition were all-sufficient. Da Vinci was a pains-
taking worker, but he brought his genius to his industry ready

THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI.

[May,

made. It was not hereditary, either, so far as the most diligent
investigation could ascertain. It never ran in the family ; it
defies the theory of atavism. Many of the great painters and
sculptors furnish in their examples the same enigma to the phy-
siological theorist. They form so many exceptions to rules in-
dispensable to pet structures of philosophy as to constitute a
rule on their own account.

There does not appear to have been anything artistic, aesthetic,
poetic, or anything above the prosiest order of life, about Leo-
nardo's parents. They were comfortable people, apparently of
the bucolic class, although his father, Pietro da Vinci, was en-
titled to be styled " Ser " and kept a town-house in Florence ;
but their surroundings at the little village in the Val d'Arno,
where Leonardo was born, were not of a kind to suggest the
fine arts. Neither does it appear that any of his eleven broth-
ers or sisters had any of his special gifts. They may have had,
but they left no mark, and so the presumptive evidence is on
the negative side.

HEADS OF BARTHOLOMEW, JAMES THE LESS, AND ANDREW, IN "THE LAST SUPPER."

Leaving to the CEdipus of the coming age the determination
of this profound matter, it is presently more useful to consider
the mode and direction in which this undoubted genius of Leo-

I895-]

THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI.

237

nardo da Vinci's exhibited itself, and the effect which it produced
upon the artistic tendencies of the age and school to which he
belonged.

By a strange paradox two strains of an apparently irrecon-

HEADS OF JUDAS, PETER, AND JOHN.

cilable character, and springing from different sources, pervaded
the mind of the artist from the beginning of his reasoning
period. The visionary, the speculative, the fanciful ran like
threads of gold across the gray fibre of a practical, shrewd, and
observant intelligence, often producing doubt and hesitation
about the adoption of methods, and often leading to the stop-
page of good work fairly begun. Yet we often behold the
triumph of the soul in the result, and it is by the felicitous ap-
plication of the practical knowledge acquired by his more wide-
awake habit of observation that the artist has achieved this
seemingly impossible conquest.

The greatest ambition of many artists is to be " original." In
the mad chase after this rainbow many mistake extravagance
for newness. Originality is often seen to be inconsistent with
truth as to form and color. A Leighton, while he pleases us
with his composition, offends us by his length of limb and dis-
proportionate anatomy generally ; a Whistler, by his sometimes

238 THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI. [May,

most inharmonious " harmonies " in black and orange, ultra-
marine and terra-cotta. But it was the peculiarity of Da Vinci
that in an age when there would seem to have been even a
more eager quest after originality than in our own, he was able
to strike the absolutely true in arrangement, expression, and ac-
tion, as he has done in the wonderful " Last Supper " of the
Santa Maria delle Grazie. It is asserted by some connoisseurs
in art that the style of Da Vinci is startlingly " modern " ! This
is SL tribute to present-day methods which may be not altogether
deserved. It would be more just to say that the modern spirit
has profited more by this great master than by any other, and
that it has not as yet been able to pay him the flattery of imi-
tation in originality.

Art in the days of the Renaissance was a more comprehen-
sive term than it is now. It meant many things from the
knowledge of the making of pigments to the building of a basi-
lica. There were indeed giants in those days. To be dowered
by all the Muses was no uncommon thing. Leonardo da Vinci
was one of the versatile band. His skill in music was marvel-
lous ; and as an illustration of the mental warp which furnished
the counterpoise to this tendency of mental levitation, we find
him a clever engineer and experimental mechanist, given to work
out problems in mensuration and questions of cost and other
details with most laborious minuteness. His brain was a very
bee-hive of activity, as we find from the piles of notes and
sketches and plans of all sorts which he has left behind. In
this respect he was somewhat of a counterpart of Michael An-
gelo, but he differed from that colossal genius in power of reali-
zation of his projects. He differed from him also, happily for .
himself, in lightness and lovableness of temperament. His per-
sonality is described by his contemporaries as having been won-
derfully winning something, indeed, like that of Raffaele. Too
many other children of Art are cursed with the genus irritabile
vatum.

Between burgeon and blossom there was not any very long
interval in Da Vinci's case. His childhood had been alternately
devoted to the study of nature in the country outside Florence,
and the study of art in the city buildings. His methods of study
were what may be called thorough and they seem to have
been self-inspired. When a mere child he studied the structure
and mechanism of flowers and birds, and for that purpose used
to expend much pocket-money. When he had bought a bird
and examined its anatomy and the situation of its tendons and

I895-]

THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI.

239

the structure of its wings, he usually let it fly away without in-
jury. Not many of the experimentalists of the present day dis-
play such tenderness of heart, if we may trust the reports of
;he anti-vivisectionists. In his very early days he had composed

HEADS OF MATTHEW, THADDEUS, AND SIMON.

a pretty apologue, in which flowers and birds were the actors
and speakers. A singular bit of fancy, play for a child, and a
striking indication of his future aspirations ; but not more so
than the fact of his painting for a picture of the Madonna an
offering of flowers which are described as marvels of fidelity to
nature.

Young Da Vinci's sketches and notes soon attracted his
father's attention, and he saw that he was no common boy.
Amongst his friends in Florence was Andrea Verocchio, the sculp-
tor, and to him he showed the productions of Leonardo. The
sculptor was astonished ; he recognized at once the hand of
genius, and offered to take the boy into his own studio there
and then. No master would be better adapted to a many-sided
pupil than he. He was not only a very eminent sculptor, but
a painter, a worker in bronze and terra-cotta, a goldsmith, and
a wood-carver ; besides he was an accomplished musician. He

240

THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI.

[May,

was the teacher of Perugino and Lorenzo di Credi as well as
Da Vinci. In his studio Leonardo spent about six years, and
then set up an establishment on his own account.

The first important work to which Da Vinci turned his hand
when he quitted the workshop or study of Verocchio was a.
piece of sculpture. He formed a friendship with Rustici, an
eminent master of the chisel, and helped him in a bronze group
representing St. John preaching to a Pharisee and a Levite,
which stands above the north door of the famous Baptistery in
Florence. Soon afterwards he went to Milan, and was received
with great cordiality by the great duke, Lodovico Sforza, by
whom he was employed to execute a bronze equestrian statue
of his father, Francesco Sforza, in painting a great altar-piece,
as well as in several great engineering works for the improve-
ment of Milan as a commercial emporium. The design for
this statue was modelled, but the casting was never com-
pleted, as the model itself was injured during the French occu-
pation of Milan by being wantonly made a target of by some

HEADS OF THOMAS, JAMES THE GREATER, AND PHILIP.

of the French bowmen. The altar-piece has been lost sight of,
but it must have been a great work, since it excited the warm
admiration of Albert Durer some years later, and is said to have

i8 9 5.]

THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI.

241

inspired some of that eminent painter's methods. The statue
must have been a work of power and originality, for it excited
the jealousy of Michael Angelo, and his taunt that the sculptor
was unable to finish his work by casting the statue in bronze,
as it was intended he should.

As it was during his sojourn in Milan that Da Vinci execut-
ed his most famous painting, the Last Supper, we are free to

HEAD OF THE SAVIOUR SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN INTENDED BY DA VINCI FOR
"THE LAST SUPPER."

conclude that his genius was then at its apogee, and that Michael
Angelo's jealousy was not without ground.

There has been much ink expended in the task of showing
that although the great Italian masters of this period painted
Christian subjects, they were at heart devoted to the Pagan
revival.

Da Vinci is described as of that Hyde and Jekyll school
VOL. LXI. 16

242 THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI. [May,

of artists. .Contemporary writers, of notoriously infidel tenden-
cies, have helped the sinister inference. It is contended that
Da Vinci, although he threw himself into the great tasks
assigned him with ardor and spared no thought, no study, no
strain to work them out to the highest point of his ideal, was
totally indifferent to the religious sentiment of which they were
the expression. It is even said, further, that although he died
in sacramental communion with the Church,, he accepted the
grace only as a concession to his family and to make his testa-
mentary dispositions valid. These elephantine efforts to distort
and belittle a noble talent prove too much. They demonstrate
clearly the inferiority of the minds in which they had their
inspiration. The mind that is true in art can hardly be untrue
to itself. It is inconceivable that a nature so lovable and
noble as his is described to have been by all with whom
he came into contact would have played the hypocrite as
described, and gone to his account with a miserable piece of
deception as his last earthly act.

A couple of famous artists had already treated th subject
of the Last Supper when Da Vinci was asked to undertake the
Santa Maria fresco. Giotto had painted one for the chapel of
the Arena in Padua ; and Ghirlandajo one for the convent of
the Ognissanti and another for that of San Marco. These pic-
tures had probably been seen by Da Vinci. The one was
treated with the stiff and bare severity of the Byzantine school ;
the other two revelled in the richness and the fancy of \ the new
spirit in painting the ideal. Da Vinci chose his way inde-
pendently of both. He preferred the natural. He adapted his
treatment to the conditions of his field of work. The wall-
space which was placed at his disposal measured twenty-eight
feet by eighteen. Instead of breaking this up by the device of
separate tables and groups, he relied for effect upon seating
all at one long table, leaving one of the sides entirely free.
The mode in which the attention of all the disciples, on either
hand of the Saviour, is fixed upon the central figure and the
startling mystery which he announces is the climax of artistic
truth. On the one side it is by the lines of the hands ; on the
other by the direction of the astonished faces. The most
astonishing feature in this design is the establishment of indi-
viduality in each of the characters. The characteristic of each
'disciple, according to tradition and rational inference, is strik-
ingly revealed in attitude as well in facial expression. Every
face in the picture shows the influence of powerful excitement

1 895.] THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCI. 243

and awe save the one calm central countenance. The human-
ity of the picture, as revealed in the emotional action of the
disciples, is saved from being too aggressive by the classical
treatment of the drapery, whose lines are of the most easily
flowing symmetry, and the quiet effects of the long table with

THE PORTRAIT OF MONA LISA.

its plain, neat cloth, and snooth and simple architecture of the
supper-room.

Very great care was bestowed upon the types of faces to be
embodied in the picture, ere the painter made his final decision.
His sketch-books show the process of development very clearly.
Over the head of the Saviour he appears to have long hesitated
between a reverence for old tradition and his own ideals. The

244 THE GENIUS OF LEONARDO DA VINCT. [May,

drawing which hangs in the Brera Gallery at Milan shows, it is
generally believed, the type of face which he at one time con-
templated, but which was ultimately abandoned as being per-
haps suggestive of femininity in its lower portion. This more
lovable type of face, as it might appear to many, was at last
abandoned for one more in keeping with the noble masculinity
of the Messiah, the sum of all human grace in mould and qual-
ity. Yet in the face, as thus de-signed, we see blended with
the strength and symmetry an ineffable tenderness and a divine
sympathy. There is nothing in common with the other faces at
the board about it ; it differs from them all as widely as though
it were that of one belonging to another race and another
order of being.

A study of the disciples' heads shows a similarity in feature
in some of the groups, but a difference in expression. The faces
and the hands, indeed, perform in this work much the same
task as they are. assigned in a play without words. The fact
that the great majority of those countenances are portrayed in
profile makes this achievement all the more remarkable.
Another difficulty with which the artist had to wrestle, after he
had decided upon the peculiar form of composition his space
and its configuration entailed, was that of avoiding the appear-
ance of a rank-and-file sort of arrangement along the table.
This he achieved by the device of breaking the company up into
a series of groups of three, yet connected by a community and
simultaneity of action all through. The analytical pictures we
present will enable the reader to follow his plan easily, and
note the means by which his great idea was successfully evolved.
The result was a great and noble picture, chaste in its general
plan and in its surroundings, and more truly devotional than
the most spiritualized conception of the transcendental school.

Of Da Vinci's power in other walks of art we have several
proofs. 'Perhaps one of the most striking of these is his por-
trait of the Signora Mona Lisa, wife of Francesco del Giocondo,
a Florentine nobleman. Here we behold the model which in-
spired the modern school of portraiture. The Mona Lisa was
the most beautiful as it was the first of portraits, properly so
called. It made contemporary painters sigh with envy, and
drew forth the most extravagant laudations of poet and con-
noisseur. The price paid for this picture by King Francis I. of
France, who was an enraptured admirer of Da Vinci's, was four
thousand gold crowns a great sum for a portrait in those days.
The art in this picture is of an entirely different order from

I895-]

THE MERC.Y OF CHRIST.

245

that we behold in his Last Supper. It is the beauty of the
world we see depicted the grace and life of womanhood in
sunny Italy.

It is not given to many founders of schools in the different
arts to be at once the pioneer and the master. This was the
privilege of Da Vinci. To the Church in which he lived and
died he gave his noblest work. It was to the Church he owed
its inspiration. In paying the debt he achieved what by no
other human agency of his time he could have achieved. His
fame was secured as long as perishable things could last, and
even beyond that vista, down the long galleries of the unborn
future.

THE MERCY OF CHRIST.

BY C. FILOMENE LEPERE.

ORD, listen to a soul oppressed

With anguish, fear ;
And let Thy mercy to her flow
My voice, O hear !

My sins are dark, scarce to myself

Dare I avow ;

I hardly hope for pardon, Lord,
Yet tender Thou.

Christ, let one drop of blood drip down

My wounds to heal ;
And let my soul, so dark with woe,

A calmness feel.

My Saviour's love is great ; He died

Each man to save.

Forgive me, then, O Lord ! I pray

And Christ forgave.

246 MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES. [May,

MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES.

BY REV. WALTER ELLIOTT.
MISSION AT TOLEDO.

there any city of one hundred thousand inhabi-
tants in Protestant Germany or in Scandinavia in
which Catholic priests could draw many hundreds
of Protestants to listen to Catholic doctrine ? an
attentive, respectful audience full of interest in
religious questions. But this is to be noted : Toledo was well
prepared for us, as the A.-P.-A. movement is strong there, and
the result is that the more thoughtful portion of the non-Catho-
lic public, not crediting the incredible, are anxious to hear
the truth about the church. Their curiosity has been aroused,
their inquiring attention fixed, thanks to the anti-Catholic agita-
tion.

We are commanded to love our enemies, and therefore we
willingly say of the A. P. A's, God bless you; but this senti-
ment of pity is mingled with one of gratitude, for if they have
turned the stupid for a moment against us, they have helped
the intelligent to understand us, and have already caused many
conversions to the Catholic faith. Would that it were as easy
to pray for all our enemies as for the A. P. A's !

How right was Father Hecker in maintaining that America
is the ripest field in the whole world for the Catholic mission-
ary. Not that but other fields are inviting Germany, Denmark,
Norway and Sweden, and especially Great Britain. The syste-
matic, resolute, courageous efforts being now made in those
countries to enclose them again in the one fold and place them
under the one shepherd fill us American missionaries with a
spirit of -emulation, and make us feel that the day of the return
of the northern races is already dawning. Here in America the
favorable conditions are multiplied. The nation is inclined to
religion, the people are only. lightly held to modes of belief by
family traditions, there is no burning memory of bitter religious
wars, the name Catholic is not foreign, the attempt at persecu-
tion is already giving way to the inevitable reaction in favor of
fair play, the spirit of liberty and the passion for knowledge

i 895.] MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES. 247

open millions of honest hearts to the truth. But to get back
to our Toledo Mission.

We followed Ingersoll, the agnostic scoffer, and General
Booth, the great Salvationist, in the use of big Memorial Hall ;
and this pleased us well, for it placed Catholicity where it
belongs, in the regular round of claimants for the public ear.
Webb, the Yankee Mahometan, and Wright, the Theosophist,
had also had their say in a smaller hall. But not even Booth,
riding on the wave of sympathy which his stupendous move-
ment has aroused, drew better audiences than we did, and often
we had as many Protestants as Catholics.

The Columbian Club, a Catholic social organization, had
invited us to give the mission, with the approval of the local
clergy, and they managed the meetings admirably. They
secured and paid for the hall, provided artistic and really
delightful music, and handled the crowds with perfect judgment,
a score of their members serving nightly as ushers, among them
some of Toledo's most prominent citizens. To keep out the
tide of Catholics that swelled into the hall entrance and to give
the Protestants a chance was no easy task. But it was success-
fully accomplished. There are thirty thousand Catholics in the
city, two-thirds of them English-speaking, and many hundreds
of these were turned away nightly. The hall can accommo-
date a maximum of three thousand, and was packed at every
meeting long before we opened with our " Please rise for the
reading of the Scripture." Estimates vary as to the composi-
tion of the audience. We certainly averaged above a thousand
Protestants each night, and some meetings had as high as fifteen
hundred, hundreds of others coming too late to gain entrance.
The ushers reserved for our outside brethren the greater portion
of the floor of the hall, requiring the Catholics to go to the
gallery.

As usual with our audiences, the quality of our non-Catholic
hearers was the best. We were never without several Protestant
ministers, and many well-known infidels were with us at each
meeting. At the end of the closing lecture a minister came
forward and reached up to the platform and grasped my hand.
" I want to thank you for your address this evening," he said,
with other very friendly words a curious thing, for the subject
was "Why I am a Catholic," and the appeal was directly for
the church's divine mission. Perhaps (at least I flatter myself)
my method of viewing the religion in this lecture was calculated
to attract him, for, after dwelling only in passing on the claims

248 MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES. [May,

of the church to our membership as a divinely founded society,
I develop the interior life of the Catholic, and undertake to
show that inner union with God which is our privilege and is
ours alone the conscious presence of God the Holy Ghost in
our souls, the satisfaction of mind in possessing the certain
truth, the deep comfort of the repentant sinner in a humble
confession and sacramental absolution, the ecstasy of union with
Christ's humanity in Holy Communion, as well as the sense of
universal brotherhood in an international society, prayers for the
dead, and the fellowship of the angels and saints during our
earthly pilgrimage. I trust that better witnesses than I can
testify as I do, that our conscious intimate union with God is
little dreamt of by religious minds outside the church, con-
troversy having been directed mainly to the visible notes of
divine origin, and to the claim of loyalty to the lawful authority
of God in the outer order. But this, essential as it is, should
be shown as what it really is the honeycomb of religion, the
honey being the elevation and sanctification of the individual
soul itself. Protestants, if they only knew it, are more addicted
to externals than Catholics are permitted to be or would be
contented to be ; externals, too, which do not even claim
divine authority.

Night after night we came to recognize the same faces till
they grew familiar. A very large proportion of our non-Catho-
lic auditory " made the mission " from beginning to end. I
think that they got a fair grasp of the case between Catholicity
and its opponents ; though as to the latter we rigidly abstained
from attack. And this very thing was of great help to us, for
there is a most venomous and lying anti-Catholic minister here
whose course was a painful contrast to our peaceful demeanor.
He has everything incredible to say against Catholics, their
priesthood and their doctrines and their spirit, and we seldom
mentioned Protestant leaders at all, never attacked them or
their doctrines, though we now and then affirmed our essential
and fatal disagreement with their errors always calmly, briefly,
and with allowance for good faith. Our battle is to make clear
the state of the case, to make the terms of difference squarely
understood ; and our spoils of victory are gathered in by our
warm praise, our enthusiastic testimony to the practical influence
of the Catholic Church and her means of divine grace upon the
inner life of her members.

The city press treated us fairly and even kindly. All the
papers, both morning and evening, gave full reports every day,

1895.] MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES. 249

ranging from one column to three, and sometimes added favor-
able editorial notices. Three press notices were afterwards col-
lected and published in a pamphlet, several thousand copies
being distributed gratis among Protestants.

The nightly harvest of questions was very great, averaging
nearly a hundred. We divided them between us, Fathers Kress
and Miihlenbeck taking the larger shares. They occupied us
about an hour each evening, the attention of the audience being
breathless the whole time. Many of the difficulties were trivial,
especially the very numerous accusations of disloyalty, and other
utterances of the A. P. A. spirit.

A thousand copies of leaflets were given to non-Catholic au-
ditors every meeting, the subjects being " What Catholics do not
believe," " The Senators of Sherburn," "The Gospel Door of
Mercy," " The Real Presence," " What my Uncle said about the
Pope," " Is it Honest ? " " Purgatory and Prayers for the Dead,"
and "Why I am a Total Abstainer."

The reader, having so far tolerated this statement of actual
facts, will bear with us a moment while we tell him of our
dreams. For we did talk a lot of dreamy nonsense about a
permanent provision of this Public Hall Apostolate in towns like
Toledo. Competent Catholic speakers could fill this big hall
every Sunday night with mixed audiences, and the expenses
easily be raised by such zealous co-operators as we found in the
Columbian Club indeed a collection taken up at each meeting
would go far towards meeting the outlay. That a large class of
non-Catholics could be reached by this means we are persuaded,
persons who never think of entering a Catholic Church, many
seldom entering any church ; and not a few of the faithful
would be greatly benefited, a portion of that great Catholic
majority who rarely attend church more than once on Sunday.
Besides the regular missionary of the diocesan band, prominent
priests and prelates from near or far would be glad to lend
their names and their gifts as orators. Delightful music could
easily be secured; nor would it be impassible to have congre-
gational singing in magnificent style. A wide freedom might
be given to such services, as the liturgy does not regulate coat-
tail devotions. Laymen of prominence would often be glad to
speak on moral questions or historical ones, and we know of
Catholic women who are orators of high power, and who could
add greatly to the "array of talent."

Oh ! how many souls, hungering for Catholic truth, could thus
be reached, and now can hardly be reached at all. But dreams

250 MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES. [May,

are dreams. Yet I say this: a regularly established band of
diocesan missionaries working on the Cleveland plan will open
the way to this and every other kind of apostolic lecturing and
preaching.

MISSION AT ALEXANDER.

Just before we (Father Graham and the writer) began our
lectures here Archbishop Elder ordered prayers for rain, and by
Monday noon we had a perfect down-pour. Our crowded opera
house of Sunday afternoon was succeeded on Monday night by
not exactly " a beggarly account of empty benches," but a very
meagre attendance. How the rain did pour, and how the peo-
ple did stay at home ! But we knew that non-Catholics who
would come to hear us under such circumstances were elect
souls, and we did our best accordingly.

We suffered another hurt by changing halls. Tuesday and
Wednesday nights our fine opera house had been pre-engaged
by theatrical troupes, and so we were compelled to use a second-
rate hall. We had only fair audiences there, but on returning
to our original stand we got the people back and closed Friday
night in a blaze of glory. The query-box was especially popu-
lar, and on its little paper ships we floated big truths into ear-
nest minds.

The town has fifteen thousand people, not a thousand of
whom are Catholics. The place is not bigoted, and there are
some prominent citizens of our faith, among them five lawyers,
all practical and earnest Catholics. The pastor averages eight
converts a year, and the Catholic people generally are zealous
and edifying. The town is an excellent field for these missions,
and we hope to return to it again.

MISSION AT LAMSON.

This is a village *of five hundred people, supported by the
farming community of the vicinity. Lutherans, Dunkards, and
Seventh-day Adventists are the Protestant denominations, and
about forty Catholic families, nearly all farmers, worship in the
little church of St. Paul the Apostle, being visited every other
Sunday. Fathers Kress and Wonderly, members of the Cleve-
land band, were the lecturers. They opened in the opera house
on Monday night in a pouring rain the same storm that hin-
dered us at Alexander nearly all of the one hundred and fifty
seats which totalize its accommodations being occupied. The
leader of the Adventists, a sort of semi-preacher, marched into

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MISSIONAR Y EXPERIENCES.

251

the hall, his Bible under his arm. He paid the closest attention.
After the lecture was over he held forth in a neighboring gro-
cery, saying that " them priests couldn't learn him nothing." He
attended every meeting and used the query-box freely. After
Tuesday night the lectures were held in the church, as the sec-
ond meeting overflowed the hall, many being turned away for
want of space, and the church is more roomy, accommodating
three hundred. It was entirely filled every night. At all the
meetings the proportion of Protestants was over half. The
mayor and mayoress, who are Methodists, and the leading
church members generally, store-keepers, farmers, in fact every-
body of any note, attended the whole course. One afternoon
while a party of idlers at the post-office were attacking the
church the mayor came in and said : " Gentlemen, respect the
men who are lecturing here ; when did any other religious teach-
ers ever come to this town to defend their creed without attack-
ing others ? " The missionaries dined with the mayor and his
family on Thursday, having been cordially invited.

Lamson is evidently one of those exceptional places where
the church building can be used for our apostolate. The Pro-
testants are kindly disposed and are willing to assemble any-
where, feeling assured of kindly treatment in return.

The question-box did good service, the queries ranging over
the usual themes, such as exclusive salvation, infallibility, infant
baptism, secret societies, etc. Our Adventist friend plied the
lecturers with such explosives as the following, which we request
the printer to give literally :

You Say or Sed last Night the Apostals Changed the Sab-
bath if So will you Pleas tel Us when and where it was done
and under what circumstances. Are you not Mistaken Was it
not changed from the Seventh to the first by Roman Catholics
During Constantines Rain, and did not Sunday originate from
Pagan Rome who worshiped the Sun, and was it not brought
in to the apostolic Church by Constentine when he and his
followers united with Same about the year 400 A. D,

(Pleas answer)

The reader knows that the Dunkards take our Saviour's
words about the washing of the disciples' feet literally and as a
precept " If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your
feet ; ye ought also to wash one another's feet." Hence a
Dunkard's question: Why don't you Catholics wash feet if you

252 MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES. [May,

claim to do what Christ did while on earth ? The answer to
such questions enables one to show the need of divine authority
in interpreting Scripture.

The following are odd specimens of what the Protestant rule
of faith, acting jointly with ignorance of Catholic doctrine, re-
sults in :

Will a person that lives a Protestant life and dies one, will
he be saved ? Answer from the heart. How do you know ?

Are you infalable, Father Kress ?

Don't the Bible teach that we shall judge no man ? How
can you priest judge a man in the confession, which you say
you do ?

Christ says, in Rev. 22. 13: "I am Alpha and Omega, the
beginning and the end, the first and the last." Then why do
Catholics call the Pope " Lord God the Pope."

One such mission as this demonstrates the will of God for
America. There are literally thousands of such villages scattered
over the entire country which will furnish our missionaries with
audiences of good-natured, religious-minded, earnest characters.
The village music-teacher said that if the meetings were kept
up for another week there would be a hundred converts a
dream, to be sure, and founded on the emotional results of re-
vival meetings. But it is actual truth that a systematic effort,
with renewals at intervals, change of topics and of missionary
literature, would in course of years convert the majority of the
honest people in such communities to the true religion.

The expenses of this mission were two nights' hire of the
opera house four dollars. The printing and other incidentals
were paid for by kindly Protestants.

MISSION AT BLACKBURN.

This was our last mission before the Christmas holidays, and
it was both satisfactory and unsatisfactory ; we were glad of our
influence on the audiences and sorry that the audiences were
not larger.

The town has more than three thousand inhabitants, and is
among the oil-wells ; the population is to a great extent tran-
sient, the religious sentiment weak. Besides our little congre-
gation of forty families there are feeble societies of Presbyte-
rians, Methodists, and United Brethren, whose ministers all com-
plain that the people generally are averse to positive religious
influences. They do not antagonize the ministers or churches,
but just ignore them. We have been in smaller places with half

18950

MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES.

253

a dozen flourishing Protestant congregations. Most of the " first
families " show no interest whatever in church matters and are
wholly " unsectarian."

Our wide-awake pastor secured a good hall and advertised
fully, but when we went to the first meeting we had only a
hundred and seventy-five present. But the quality was select.
Not more than one-fourth were Catholics, and the leading men
of the town were with us, including the United Brethren minis-
ter. We soon increased the attendance to three hundred and
grumbled to each other that the figure could not be raised
higher. But we managed to deeply interest our hearers, and
they used the question-box fairly well. Tuesday was our Tem-
perance night, and that afternoon we distributed a temperance
pamphlet to every house in town, with " Opera House to-night ! "
printed in big red letters across the cover. The result was ap-
parent in the increased attendance. A prominent lawyer who
is an avowed infidel, and who is said to " lay out all the minis-
ters in town," attended every meeting and seemed much in-
terested.

The general effect of the mission was excellent. The Catho-
lics have been laboring under many disadvantages in spite of
the earnest efforts of their priest, and they were greatly encour-
aged by the meetings and the talk they occasioned. Among the
missionaries, Fathers Kress, Wonderly, and myself, there was
naturally some discussion as to how we could have done better,
and we thought that if we had chosen moral topics, such as
lying, stealing, gambling, " boodling," we might have drawn
larger crowds. Religion pure and simple seems to have small
attraction to this town, and in that respect it is a rare exception.
Our often-learned lesson was here repeated : Catholicity has a
better field among religious people than among unreligious
people.

254 GLIMPSES OF ITALY. [May,

GLIMPSES OF ITALY.

BY E. C. FOSTER.

TALY boasts no authentic record of the date of
the earliest settlement, or the circumstances
which led to it, as even legendary lore is silent
upon the subject.

Two thousand six hundred years ago 'Rome was
founded. In process of time the whole of -Italy fell under her
rule. The decline of this mighty power was sorely disastrous to
all Italy, as vast hordes of barbarians from the North and East,
enticed hither by the wealth and weakness of the empire, de-
stroyed the barriers her armies were no longer able to defend,
and reduced the fertile and beautiful district to desolation and
ruin.

All our knowledge of the early inhabitants of central and
western Italy strengthens the conjecture that there was amongst
them a race originally Pelasgic, resembling the Trojans, and it
is possible that early emigration of this stock from the coast of
Troy to Italy and some of her islands gave rise to the poetical
legend of ^Eneas fleeing from the impending doom of Ilium,
burdened with his household treasures, in search of the " fair
Ausonian shore."

Too much has been said of Italy's pure atmosphere, eternal
sunshine and flowers, which Naples, more than any other
section, dispenses in her genial way. Nor is she one unbroken
scene of landscape picture, for there is a lack of forest charm,,
and some views are dull enough for the heaviest mind. A few
of her finest scenes are dimmed by the haze of her atmosphere,
and the full force of much beauty is but imperfectly enjoyed.

We will see Tuscany, the home of the great bard her old
gem vases and paintings rendering her dear to the artist and
antiquarian, for who nas not longed for Etruscan relics ? The
Romans derived much of their architectural taste and skill from
their Etruscan neighbors, as the remains of many of their
ancient structures testify. The national glory of Etruria cul-
minated long before Rome was founded. She had twelve king-
doms, twelve capital cities, and twelve mighty kings, and one of
them, Porsenna, humbled the Mistress of the World upon her

I895-]

GLIMPSES OF ITALY.

255

Seven Hills. It is a matter of regret that the oracles of this
venerable people are lost ; but throughout Italy we find relics
of embossed sarcophagi, coins, cameos, fictile vases, and cinerary

OLD GATE NEAR TIVOLI, WITH AN ALOE GROWING IN THE WALL.

urns, all the work of this remarkable race. In the time of
Pericles their bronze candelabra were much esteemed in Athens,
while various specimens of their bronze statuary in Florence,
Rome, and Leyden confirm the opinion of their high excellence
in this art.

Let us see old Perugia with its hundred churches, and thirty
monastic and conventual institutions. Here is the old Etruscan
gate just as it stood two thousand years ago in its hugeness
and solidity. In the fourteenth century one hundred thousand
persons perished here of the plague.

256 GLIMPSES OF ITALY. [May,

Now we pass through a dingy little town long remembered
by Rome for the defeat of Flaminius by the wily Carthaginian.
His tower still stands triumphantly over the Aceldama, where
blood-hued flowers display their gorgeous tints over the dust of
the slain. In the distance is Cortona, older than Troy ; and
through the ever-flowered vale of Chiana we'll journey to see
Arezzo, where Petrarch lived, and other great men first saw the
light. We'll travel on till we reach Lombardy, where our at-
tention is arrested by its buildings, conspicuous for a copious
and florid decoration. We shiver, for the air is damp, and our
home wrapping and other appliances of comfort are called into
requisition. Central Lombardy lacks mountains, and the general
monotony of the landscape seems to hem up the senses and
shut in the soul like prison walls. But such cattle as graze on
those extensive plains and such dairies we will not find in all
Italy ; and her system of irrigation affords a model for the
world.

Now we will wend our way to Turin and admire her archi-

THE BRIDGE OF SALARIO.

tecture, of which she is so justly proud, and as all around a
sunny scene breaks upon the vision widening into the most
charming view we enjoy of the Alps. Yonder, far to the south-
west, are the fortresses of the Waldenses. What frowning

1 895-]

GLIMPSES OF ITALY.

257

precipices ! what yawning abysses ! Close by the dashing stream
thunders your doom should you take an incautious step in
your impatience to gain the dizzy crest that grasps every hue
of the painted cloud. How the heart pants for that vision
beyond, whose penetralia even the holy seer of Pisgah might
have been forbidden to pass ! What a variety of prospect is
spread out for our enjoyment as the exquisite softness and

AN ITALIAN BRIGAND.

tremulous beauty of the scene contrast with its echoing soli-
tudes, its profound chasms, its leaping cataracts and scorning
heights. But you must command the summit of the Apennines
if you would reach the fairest point of enrapturing prospect,
and [shake the earth-dross from your aching feet. Alternating
from wildness to regularity, from beauty to sublimity, is the
VOL. LXI. 17

258 GLIMPSES OF ITALY. [May,

scene now presented. At your feet the graceful woods and
luxuriant meadows in their emeraldine joy, the cunning daisied
footpaths from clusters of snowy cottages, and around and
above the unnumbered treasures of natural beauty, warm from
God's hand, filling all space with the aliment the aesthetic spirit
is demanding. Lift again your weary feet and try to gain the
peak where the workings of nature seem so deep and unap-
proachable.

Now, footsore, worn and satiated, we'll descend and pursue
our journey to Naples and the smoking Vesuvius, the latter
tempering our emotions with memory of frhe splendid cities of
the Campania, the garden spot of Italy.

How enchanting a picture is now unfolded as the eager eye
leaps from promontory to promontory to descry all the won-
ders that environ the capital of the two Sicilies and its thunder-
ing volcano with jealous eye for ever and for ever on the treas-
ure-house below, as if in very mockery of man's poor work of
resurrection ! Ah, Naples ! is there not some spot more secure
than that, shadowed more sublimely by the eternal menace of
an agent whose power defies all human control ? There is no
inanity here ; everything conspires to clothe the scene with terri-
ble grandeur and awe, from the reposing plain with the dead
cities on its stricken heart, to the burning peak whose heaving
bosom is even now exultant over its great triumph through the
lapse of twenty centuries.

Now we enter Naples, that charming spectre coming up out
of the sea as Vesuvius holds over her a crown of fire and
shows her the secret springs of convulsions that could rock the
world. Let us repair to the Museum, where we will find
achievements of the chisel that can never be eclipsed.

Angelo, Raphael, Domenichino ! how supreme and over-
shadowing the merit the lover of the true and beautiful must
ever claim for you, filling as you do the thirst of famished
hearts with the perfection of man's endeavor.

We would speak of thee, O Mantua ! but " silence is older
and stronger than speech," and the world's tribute of worship
is at thy feet when the fame of Virgil is immortal. Humble
little Andes, where is thy claim when the honor of the great
birthplace is contested? Now the fair capital of the Middle
Ages is reached with its Pitti, its marble tower, its famed
octagonal steeple of the Buchia, and its towering belfry of the
Palazzo Vecchia, leaping up into the air, then reposing awhile in
its supreme height to throw out another and another tower or

1895-] GLIMPSES OF ITALY. 259

buttress, as upward it springs again till, almost lost to sight, its
last aerial flight is taken. But the Campanile, built of black
and white marble, defies all description ; and its bells who ever
heard such music ?

Florence, another queen of beauty, ever dreaming of past
glory and leading us through mazes of plastic, matchless fasci-
nations, is rich in storied memories ; and what favorable stimu-
lants to activity she afforded in her political institutions and
public life, combining a love of enjoyment with exalted princi-
ples more harmoniously than any other Italian city. See the
beautiful Arno, that pride of the Tuscan, that petling of poets,
as it flows through her splendid streets, whose towers aspire to

TOMB OF CECILIA METELLA, ON THE APPIAN WAY.

embrace the azure heavens. Sleeping in the very heart of the
City of Lilies, look at the silvery thing dancing, flashing, dip-
ping, sparkling, eddying, whirling, and think of Petrarch and the
old guide, and fancy you behold the precious freight transported
over the roaring waters and the agonized mother's frantic
efforts to rescue her child from that watery death. The same
Petrarch who thundered to Charles IV., " One can see in
thee that virtues are not hereditable." The great apostle of
truth who stood like a masculine Cassandra admonishing and
rebuking kings and prelates. Look, as the king of Naples in-
vests him with a purple mantle, and the Roman Senate places
upon his poet brow the laurel crown which to Dante was
never given.

260 GLIMPSES OF ITALY. [May,

Now we have reached the cathedral whose gigantic dome is
scarcely surpassed by any other the world boasts. Close by, in
slender, graceful beauty, is Giotto's bell-tower, reminding one of
the soul's flight to the crystal waters that encompass the City
of God. The very model and mirror of architecture, stands the
Campanile with its fairy-work of shaft and tracery, soaring
and yet soaring as if to forget its earth foundation ; so airy and
ethereal that you scarcely trace the fair proportions against the
distant horizon. Ascend now to the height of two hundred
feet, and look down upon that band of Austrians who are dis-
coursing to us the grandest swells of music ever given by in-
struments. Hear it as it rolls away, filling turret and tower
with its volume of sweet sounds until the sorrowing heart
breaks under its dying echoes. Look again, perhaps for the
last time, upon those alabaster threads, tinted, but in subdued
softness, with all the coloring of the curtains of the holy tab-
ernacle, or the first warm flushings of Aurora's coronal, and we
are done with this glad marvel of beauty.

To the east reposes Venice laving her marble feet in the
blue Adriatic, as she laughs with her gondoliers and sea-
nymphs, and prides herself upon her old doges and older bank.
We see its gray wall, its St. Mark's tower, and other wonders,
and looking in its antique beauty a very slumbering fairy world
toying with the sea. Fair Empress of the Water, as she sits
enthroned over it in all her splendor and corruption twin sister
of old Tyre whose riches are bleaching on the rocks wedged
in by flood and sunshine ; sad memorial of Jehovah's wrath !
Shall we ever inherit that land where there will be no more
sea ? Blessed promise of the apocalyptic seer as he essays to
paint the glory and beauty of the saints' eternal rest, where no
black waves of desolation, no rushing surges shall ever again
sweep over human hearts and homes and hopes. Unwearied,
invincible element, too capricious for man to measure thy love
or wrath ; to-day the craven slave, to-morrow the tyrant master.
Did the proud Canute arrest thy sway, or mighty Tyre hold
her footing when dominion was claimed by thee ? O Venice!
forget not the pride, the doom of her whose abasement is
wailed by every silver wave as it asserts its empire over thee.
Beautiful Thetis ! with thy record inscribed in golden letters on
the white face of the sea-surge, which heralds it daily through
all the treasure-heaps that blaze above its marble foam. See
that world of spangled pinnacles, that entrancing vision of
gleaming domes, that continuous chain of pleasure, pomp, and

I895-]

GLIMPSES OF ITALY.

261

pageantry. Shall we not speak, too, of the glowing domes of
St. Mark's grand temple, and can we forget the holy purpose
of its erection ? Not in the glut of gold, not in the vanity of
ostentatious display were those glorious arches painted in rain-
bow tints, those gorgeous walls veined in amethyst and gold,
but that the stony eye of Venice and her leaden ear might see
and hear that she was daily trampling under foot the eternal
message.

She was no more the patient, reverent Venice planned by

THE ARCH OF DRUSUS, OUTSIDE ROME*.

I the brave, faithful hearts of a holier age. Where -are the
mighty doges of the old lost city, and what would they think
were they permitted to revisit their grass-grown courts and
slime-stained palaces, where the cunning wave is fast asserting
supremacy? Vainly would the restless spirit seek for its loved
home among the vast treasure-piles of gold, alabaster, and
mother of pearl that lave their glorious shadows in the jewelled
waters. Dandolo, Foscari ! come forth from your dusty tomb

262 GLIMPSES OF ITALY. [May,

and glean and gather from Neptune's coffers the priceless relics
of your long-lost Venice. Blithe children of the Fairy of the
Sea ! dance, laugh, sing, but remember, though so happy you be,
that some cities have not died of age, have not passed away
weary of all the world could offer.

Now we will see, sitting in the pride of her title, " the
Learned," Bologna, who has given birth to eight popes, two
hundred cardinals, and more 'than one hundred literary men and
artists. Assisi, the birthplace of Propertius and Metastasio,
demands a passing notice, as does also the home of Ariosto,
whose Orlando Furioso is truly the grandest work of the medi-
aeval times. Where are the spirit-moving strains we fain would
blend with the land of poetry, painting, and sculpture ? If we
wish to hear them we must visit the operas and theatres of the
capitals, for the hungry soul will find no such pabulum in the
streets and wayside retreats, for the strolling minstrel has sought
other thoroughfares for appreciation.

And now we take up our journey to Genoa, without whose
dauntless adventurer one-half of the world might now have
been immersed in barbarism. Can it be that along these busy,
buzzing, bustling thoroughfares the unchained, the intrepid spirit
indulged its insane musing of the " Light Ahead," as he yearn-
ingly looked out upon the western gloaming ? Thoughtless
woodman, did you ever dream of the grand secrets shut up in
that humble forest tree as you hack and hew away for the con-
struction of the little Pint a? while never a thought of fear or
insecurity obtrudes itself upon the brain of the far-off red man
wooing the dusky maiden beside his native stream. Did the
world have nothing but a dungeon to offer the great man as a
recompense ? Where is it now ? Upon its site towers a monu-
ment, and the name of Christopher Columbus, and the glory of
his discovery, are among the proudest records in the annals of
Italians achievements. Men call it a " New World," when it
teemed with ruins gray with years, with cities bluer than Jeru-
salem, and with moss-wreathed temples as grand as those of
Athens or Egypt. How recreant have we been to our high
trust to suffer the upstart cognomen of America to supplant
the more euphonious and dignified Columbia ! Such too often
is the only reward the world offers true merit and greatness.

We pass on now to visit the home of the great Dante, and
pause to pay a tribute to his genius and drop a tear over his
sorrows. All tenderness, intensity, and sincerity, retaining his
courage and rejoicing in hope amid all his exile pilgrimage.

J895-]

GLIMPSES OF ITALY.

263

Prophet of God, guiding us safely through the mansions of the
accursed to the full beatitude of the blest ! Uncrowned, un-
kinged, unblessed, still murmuringly echoing the sweet strains of

VIA BELLA PILOTTA.

his native heaven. What human ear was ever permitted to hear
such low-toned, myriad-voiced music as this accredited interpre-
ter of that oracle of divinity within ? Men gave him no purple
mantle or laurel wreath, but now he wears a robe of righteous-
ness and fadeless crown with the exalted of that kingdom with-
out end. Here in this lonely cot, without ornament or beauty
of proportion, the wild bird plumed his golden wing for those
heavenward soarings from which no cruel edict could ever
banish him.

Now we have reached the lonely Campagna, which but for

26 4

GLIMPSES OF ITALY.

[May,

the dust of dead men's bones, and its proximity to Rome, would
be as unattractive as any locality in Italy. A solitary sweep of
scene, a wild, level waste away from human life and hum. What
may be called earth for your foundation, refuses to bear the
foundation for the daintiest foot, pale and rotten as human
bones after many centuries. The tangled grass waves sluggishly
in the evening breeze, and the mouldering earth is ever restless
from the struggle of the countless sleepers it contains in its
inhospitable embrace ; and but for huge remnants of what were
once gigantic structures forbidding the great upheaval, what a
scene might meet the eye ! But its historical associations are of
the most interesting character, and it is a melancholy thought
that this once densely populated plain, with its prosperous towns
and thriving villages, has dwindled down into a dismal waste
with only a small portion cultivated. It is at best but a smit-
ten desert, every mound of which is a chronicle of a buried age
and forgotten world a hot, burning, pestiferous plain where
every breath you draw is sulphurous, poisonous fire, thick with
tormenting things, condemned to be tortured in this sea of

^^M^'

CATTLE OF THE ROMAN CAMPAGNA.

flame. Who has not heard of the effect of mist on this haunted
spot, and the hills of Sorrento. It is worth a journey to Rome
to witness this work of nature. Half ether, half dew, see those
burning tints of noon-day sun lighting up each spire of grass

1895.] GLIMPSES OF ITALY. 265

and lordly tree, until the whole waste seems ablaze with the
intensity of such coloring 'as we fancy enters into the drapery
that encircles the great Presence Chamber of the Eternal
Power. Wait awhile until the gorgeous tinting sobers down into
a soft purple haze, and we'll climb those distant hill-slopes to

ON THE TIBER, BETWEEN THE HOSPITAL OF ST. MICHAEL AND THE AVENTINE.

catch the first glimpse of St. Peter's Church, which is all we
descry of the great city. The view at this distance is too im-
perfect to attempt a description. We hasten on, as the heart
is panting for greater things that await us in the distance.

Hail mighty Rome ! City of the soul ! Mother of empires,
in comparison with which all other cities are but villages, all
other sovereigns but spectres of imperial power. She with her
mighty sea of human faces, ranging from four to fourteen mil-
lions, to throng her palaced ways and grace her triumphal pro-
cessions ! Welcome little Tiber, that saw the first mud-roofed
hut of Romulus and his robber band reared upon the Palatine,
saw the Golden Capitol upon the royal Capitoline, witnessed the
height of glory and regal splendor of the Imperial Twelve ! Yes,
old Tiber, the same during all this mournful change, the same
silent, apathetic looker-on, even when the magic name of Rome
was smothered down by the rude clamor and dissonant jargon
of the upstart Byzantine capital, and the Eternal City, she un-

266 GLIMPSES OF ITALY. [May,

der whose protecting aegis the whole habitable world then recog-
nized by history reposed in security for centuries, lost for
ever ! Ah ! dumb are her ancient oracles, no mystic symbols
are found in her Cumean grotto, Dodona is voiceless, and the
Delphic cell boasts no more inspiration.

The architecture of modern Rome bespeaks a pitiable de-
generation of taste, and is at best but an imposing display of
gilded fretwork, an extravagant exhibition of every variety of
costly relic from her old tomb. Yonder stands the Colosseum,
symbol of her greatness, towering one hundred feet, and a third
of a mile in circumference a majestic mass of rock, a world of
stone, from whose partial ruin cities have been reared. No build-
ing ever raised by man has witnessed such scenes of cruelty and
suffering, or cried for more blood. Who did the work for the
mighty Caesar, and piled block after block, till human endurance
cried enough, but poor captive Jews? And little he recked the
physical agony it cost as stroke after stroke from the black-
bearded victim accomplished the herculean wonder. Well might
the old Anglo-Saxon pilgrim prophetically sing :

" While stands the Colosseum, Rome shall stand ;
When falls the Colosseum, Rome shall fall ;
And when Rome falls the World/'

We will see the Pantheon, now a Christian church, with its
grand dome and beautiful columns, the best preserved of all
Rome's buildings. It is one hundred and fifty feet high, with-
out windows, with walls eighteen feet thick, and through the
roof, from an opening twenty-five feet in diameter, is admitted
all its light. The Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, the Basilica
of Constantine, and the Flavian Amphitheatre all tower around
us as we examine but imperfectly all these wonders. Our feet
are deep in monumental dust, and brain and heart ache under
memory's burden. Man may excavate and disinter, but ancient
Rome will through all ages remain an inexhaustible quarry.

St. Peter's Church is now before us, occupying the site of
the old church of Constantine, which, we are told, was erected
on the spot that witnessed the crucifixion of St. Peter. In its
survey the mind of the beholder is swayed by a solemn and
oppressive magnificence ; but it is the interior and cupola, united
with the tremendous extent, which renders this sanctuary one of
the greatest wonders of the world. This cathedral covers six
acres, and is built in the form of a cross. The immense Vati-
can, which is an arm of this cross, embraces several acres, and

i8 9 5-]

GLIMPSES OF ITALY.

267

on its roof are flower gardens and fruitful orchards. On the
roof of the cathedral is a little village consisting of three hun-
dred workmen and their families, making an aggregate of twelve
hundred people. They use alcohol instead of fire for all pur-
poses. Nero's circus grounds once occupied the site of this
mighty fabric. One hundred and fifty years were consumed in
completing the accessories alone of this huge building; and
twenty-five million dollars of capital were expended in the erec-
tion ; and now six thousand pounds are annually required for
necessary repairs. Was there ever such an atmosphere to anni-
hilate distance ? ever an object of such mammoth proportions and
stupendous design, with surroundings just such as the aesthetic
architect would demand ? The dome rising to the height of five

A PONTIFICAL PROCESSION IN THE PRE-REVOLUTION DAYS.

hundred feet in the clear cerulean of such a sky as that which
overarches it, and on the famous hill from which the city loved
to look down so proudly upon her endless domains, where all
the triumph of her victors and all her grand processions pre-
pared their imposing ceremonial.

We will enter. What an ocean of light flows from those one
hundred brazen lamps, ever burning to illume the sacred passage
to the crypt below, where they tell us the dust of St. Paul and
Peter mingle in holy unity ! Look around, and what an over-
powering sense of sanctity seems to pervade through all its
vastness and beauty! Whence came those precious marbles and
metals, this profusion of gems and gold, those admirable mosaics
and exquisite statuettes, along with countless wreaths, crosses,

268 GLIMPSES OF ITAL Y. [May.

tiaras, festoons, angels, and medallions that oppress the eye as
you tread on the finest porphyry ? Raise your eye to the gilded
vault, as all around are Corinthian pilasters with their superb
entablatures. So perfect, too, is everything in its proportion as
to create a doubt that the ceiling of the nave is double the
altitude of that of Westminster Abbey, and the vault of the
dome almost double that height. Wonderful that those infant
cherubs at the base of the pilasters are six feet high ; the pen
of St.' Luke, who stands there, six feet long, and the figure of
the saint sixteen feet in height. The piers that support that
inimitable structure are eighty-four feet in diameter, and the
magnificent bronze baldacchino over the great altar ninety feet
above the pavement. Are we dreaming, or verily treading the
pavement of St. Peter's ?

Shall we leave ere we see the mighty dome, that climax of
all the marvels of architectural ambition ? We'll ascend that
spiral flight of steps, one hundred and forty-four in number, and
gain the highest point of observation, as a miniature world lies
at our feet. See the grand cupola with its sixteen smaller ones
around it, each fit to adorn as many churches ; and two, more
than a hundred feet high, worthy of the proudest cathedral.
Now we'll continue to ascend until we gain the very apex, and
enjoy a full view of the Seven Hills, which sink into littleness
with their valleys, and everything dwindles away but the great
church and adjoining Vatican. When we first beheld it through
its distance of miles, no spire, no turret, no battlement or tower
told us of Rome, only this huge, majestic dome looking up
against the gilded horizon, weird, ghostly, portentous. Nearer,
yet nearer we approached it, but still it towered for ever over the
pale masses of city pomp that crouch at its feet. Strange, aw-
ful, mysterious majesty this, that dwarfs all else of greatness in-
to very insignificance ! See it through the ruby hues of Aurora's
crown, through the sapphire arch of unclouded noon-day, or the
evanescent gleams of the amethystine sky, through the dead-leaf
mists of the evening twilight, but it is never less than St. Peter's,
the proudest representative of Rome and papacy. The riches
of an empire are within its walls, all art has been exhausted in
its decoration ; and its solidity might suggest it was reared for
eternity. 'Tis the first and last view we have of the Eternal
City as it towers in bold relief against the crystal sky, the most
majestic thing in all Europe, swelling triumphantly in the dis-
tance and silence of numbers of miles.

THERE is in New York a Phil-Armenian Society,
composed of humane persons of various denomina-
tions, united for the laudable purpose of compelling
the attention of the civilized world to the miseries
of Turkish rule in Armenia. This is but a branch
of a much larger question. The rule of Turkey, unhappily, ex-
tends over many places . containing a large proportion of Chris-
tian inhabitants, and the normal operation of this supremacy is
oppressive, fanatical, and thievish. Professor Freeman, the dis-
tinguished historian, does not hesitate to give it its most descrip-
tive title. He designates it simply as " organized brigandage."
As long as the regular course of robbery and injustice is allowed
to pursue its perennial way, the fanaticism of the Turk rests in
lazy torpidity. But let his savage instincts be once aroused by
any demonstration of resistance, and all the tiger stirs within
him at once. Like Othello, he cries out for blood, and he gen-
erally manages to get it in plenty before he is appeased.

The Phil-Armenian Society has published a book, written by
Frederick Davis Greene, M.A.,* who for several years resided in
Armenia and was connected with a Protestant mission there
the American Board in Van. We have the word of the Rev.
Josiah Strong, D.D., that he writes now as the representative of
no society, religious or political, but we have proof that the old
leaven works in him for all that when dealing with certain por-
tions of his subject, or else that his many years of residence in
the country did not avail to make him acquainted with the facts.
In a chapter treating of the religion of the Armenians he des-
cants as follows :

" All Armenians except perhaps the Catholic, whose allegi-
ance has been transferred, of course, to Rome still cherish a pas-
sionate attachment for the venerable church of their ancestors,
to which they owe their identity as a people after the terrible vi-
cissitudes of so many centuries. It is true that Armenians who

* The Armenian Crisis in Turkey. By Frederick Davis Greene, M. A. New York : G.
P. Putnam's Sons.

270 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

have come under European influence, especially French, have
to some extent become sceptical and indifferent to religion.
But even such men still profess at least an outward loyalty, as
a matter of sentiment, and because they believe the formal pre-
servation of the Armenian Church to be the condition of national
union in the future as it has been in the past. It is, indeed,:
almost a political necessity, as the Ottoman Empire is now con-
stituted.

" It is to be hoped that the time will come when the children
of the Armenian Church of every shade will no longer look up-
on her as a mother frail and failing, yet to be treated with re-
spect while she lasts ; nor as a mother ignorant and bigoted
beyond hope of reform ; still less, as one heretical and to be
abandoned for Rome."

Now, the inference which people unacquainted with the truth
would draw from these references to Rome, is that Rome is
inimical to the nationality of the Armenian Church. If the
writer does not know that the contrary is the fact, it is astonish-
ing how he could be so long a resident of the country and un-
aware of the truth ; if he is aware of it, what are we to say of
his misrepresentation ? Last November we published an article
on the Armenian Church by the Bishop of Tarsus and Adana,
Right Rev. Paul Terzian, in which the position of Rome toward
the Armenian Church was clearly set forth. That position was
expressly stated in a recent Encyclical by Pope Leo XIIL
The Armenians are freely conceded the enjoyment of their own
ancient ritual and their own liturgy and language. The principle
of national unity is thus clearly recognized in fact the Arme-
nian clergy are strictly enjoined to guard and preserve their
ancient national rite. It is the schismatic Armenian Church and
the Protestant Verts who are the real sources of danger to the
preservation of the national form of worship. The church in Ar-
menia, before the schism, was in complete communion with Rome,
and the ancient hymns and ritual, as used still by the schis-
matic Armenians, expressly acknowledged the spiritual headship
of the successor of St. Peter, by whose favor the first great
apostle of the Armenians, St. Gregory the Illuminator, was en-
abled to evangelize the country in the beginning.

One entire chapter in this work is occupied, despite the
writer's disclaimer of any missionary connection, with a statistical
and a general statement of the results of American Protestant
missionary enterprise in Turkey. Whether these statistics and
generalities have any real value or not, we do not perceive what
relevancy they have to the object of this book. If the writer

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 271

have really in view the enlisting of the general sympathy for the
oppressed Armenians, the introduction of these questionable
sectarian topics is hardly likely to effect such an object.

Sympathizing as we do with all our heart with the sorely
persecuted Christians of Armenia, whether orthodox, schismatical
or Protestant, we deprecate any attempt to alienate the moral
support of the great Catholic body in this country and else-
where by these covert insinuations and open perversions of the
truth. We think this book calculated rather to do a vast amount
of harm, by the spirit in which it is written, than any good to
the Armenian cause. Furthermore, we believe it to be a stupid
and self-stultificatory book, inasmuch as, after proving the exis-
tence of such horrors in Turkish rule as undoubtedly demand
that Turkey be put beyond the pale of civilization and punished
for her crimes against Heaven and man, it whiningly pleads for
the " loyalty " of the American missionaries to that unspeakable
and revolting rule, and their consequent tame acquiescence in the
oppression of the devoted Armenian people.

" It is very important to note," says the writer, " that charges
against the missionaries of disloyalty to the Sultan have never
been sustained for a moment, and that investigation has shown
them to be obedient to the laws, and opposed to revolutionary
sentiments upon the part of any of the subjects of the empire.
The highest officials have repeatedly borne public testimony to
the valuable services of the Americans in educational, literary,
medical, and philanthropic lines. Even H. I. M. Sultan Abd-
ul-Hamid has graciously given expression to his confidence in
Americans as being free from any political designs, such as all
Europeans are supposed to entertain."

Here we have two very significant admissions. In the first
place, we have the plea of " loyalty to the sultan " that is, ac-
quiescence in the horrible oppression of the Armenian Chris-
tians and in the second, an admission that, while disavowing in-
terference in politics, interference has been steadily practised
in opposing the revolutionary ideas of the oppressed people. Is
this in accordance with American principles ? We answer em-
phatically not. It is no business of the American missionary to
dictate to any people whether or not they ought to imitate the
founders of the American Constitution in flinging loyalty to in-
veterate and unalterable oppression to the winds ? The wrongs
of the Armenians cry to heaven for vengeance ; they demand
the strongest expression of reprobation and abhorrence of the
perpetrators. But we would strongly urge the Phil-Armenian
Society, if they hope for a successful issue to their appeal, to

272 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

purge their book of these objectionable features and let the
spirit of charity and manly sympathy have a fair field.

The mysterious tie between true religion and true art is
recognized in nothing so clearly or impressively as in noble
architecture. It is driven home to the mind with irresistible
force at the sight of some majestic cathedral, where the spiritu-
ality of the conception is made apparent by the patient study
of the beautiful outlines and the loveliness of the intricate de-
tail. Mr. Walter Cranston Larned has fully realized the re-
lation, in his investigation of the great Gothic monuments of
Europe. We have some fine descriptions, full of reverential
appreciation, in his new book on Mediaeval France.* If it is
marred here and there by some traces of prejudice, we may
overlook the fault as the perhaps unconscious leaven of inveter-
ate habit and inoculation. Some fine half-tone illustrations of
the chief cathedrals and castles are given. The output of the
book is very creditable to the Scribner firm.

Japan and its people fill the stage of general curiosity now
more than ever. The world always regarded them as a gifted
people ; their more modern achievements in constitutional ways
and in the field of war have set the stamp and seal of original-
ity upon them. Everything, therefore, that sheds the light of
truth upon their ways and modes of thought is to be welcomed.

In a work entitled Occult Japan, by Percival Lowell,f we
get an insight into the strange , inner life of the cult or religion
which, long antedating the advent of Buddhism in the country,
was the prevalent belief of all, having no distinctive name.
When Buddhism came, this religion was given the appellation
Shinto, which means the Way of the Gods, in contradistinction
to Butsudo, or the Way of Buddha.

The author spent a good deal of time in Japan, and during
his sojourn was enabled accidentally to gain some knowledge of
the working of a strange part of the Shinto system namely,
the belief in divine possession. There seems to be no doubt
that many well-meaning persons entertain the belief that they
do become possessed by the Shinto deity, in much the same
way as the priestesses of the pagan cult in ancient Greece
ostensibly acted as oracles and prophetesses, under the influ-
ence of some powerful mental tension. The privilege of getting

* Churches and Castles of Mediceval France. By Walter Cranston Larned. New York:
Charles Scribner's Sons.

t Occult Japan ; or, The Way of the Gods. By Percival Lowell. Boston and New York :
Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

i8Q5-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 273

" possessed " is open to every ordinarily well-conducted person in
the Shinto communion. The belief in miracles is another com-
mon characteristic of the Japanese, and some of the " miracles "
witnessed by the author seem so silly in his chronicle that one
cannot help wondering whether the people who are so imposed
upon and the race who are leading the way in Eastern civiliza-
tion are really one and the same. The fact that the author
could not account for a few of the legerdemain-like tricks he
witnessed does not alter their ridiculous character. To Mr.
Lowell, indeed, the whole of the religious life of the Japanese
appeared a subject only for contemptuous amusement. To any
Western not gifted with Sir Edwin Arnold's super-sympathetic
assimilativeness there are mysteries, no doubt, in Oriental
asceticism and metaphysical life which must at times appear
grotesque ; yet a prolonged sneer at what one cannot compre-
hend is not the best manner of endeavoring to elude the diffi-
culty of a task which ought never to have been undertaken.
There is much in the Japanese religious system which leads to
morality and purity of life, and this is a very happy predisposi-
tion for the reception of a nobler message. When we get to
those portions of his book which are free from this tendency,
we get many very interesting glimpses of the intellectual life of
Japan and the strange ingenuousness of mind which character-
izes the believers in Shinto. That abnormal condition which
permits of hypnotism in western' lands appears to be the rule
there. The latter part of the book is indeed largely taken up
with a discussion of psychic and cerebral phenomena, of a
highly scientific character at times, and at others carried on in a
vein of caustic pleasantry. One thing is very clear that the
most brilliant scientists are unable to explain the causes of
psychic action, or agree on the sources of will-power or its sub-
jection to other will by the process known as hypnotism.
When such is the case with regard to a material fact, as we
may term it, it is hard to see what light can be thrown upon
questions involving a spiritual belief in connection with some of
these strange phenomena of our physical nature by investigators
who approach them in such a spirit.

To his seven brothers the Rev. John S. Vaughan dedicates
a popular treatise on the immortality of the soul, under the title
Life after Death.* It is in itself a remarkable fact that any

* Life after Death; or, Reason and Revelation on the Immortality of the Soul. By Rev.
John S. Vaughan. New York : Benziger Brothers. London : B. F. Laslett & Co.; R. Wash-
bourne. Dublin : Gill & Son.
VOL. LXI. 1 8

274 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

one family could send so large a number of distinguished men
to the service of the institution whose raison d'etre is the soul's
immortality. Six members of the Vaughan family embraced
holy orders, two attaining to the archbishopric, and one to the
cardinalate ; while a third occupies the distinguished position of
Superior of the Jesuit Mission in Manchester. That such a num
ber of priests should spring from one generation of a Catholic
family in a land where Catholicism was supposed to be stamped
out until it had no legal existence, is a strong argument for the
immortality of the faith, as this is in turn for the immortality
of the soul.

The component parts of this book formed a series of papers
written for the Liverpool Catholic Times at the request of Mon-
signor Nugent. It was the aim of the writer to keep them as
free as possible from any appearance of learned profundity, so
that the simplest order of intellect should have no difficulty in
following their arguments. But simplicity in language, as in some
kinds of architecture, is often only another name for grace and
strength and harmony of composition.

It may be urged, in objection to this book, that the subject
is trite. All that can be said about immortality of the soul is
anticipated by the believer ; if there were anything new to urge,
the process would be somewhat akin to that of " carrying coals to
Newcastle." To the non-believer of the order of mind which
says, " I will believe nothing which I cannot see or cannot be
proved to me, and you cannot prove immortality," there is no
use in addressing any appeal to reason. But there are many of
sceptical or wavering tendencies who exhibit no such mulish-
ness on a matter of such transcendent importance, and to that
class the logic of this work must present itself at least as a
thing which cannot be passed by with a mere expression of dis-
sent. It abounds in propositions and examples put in the most
striking way. It shows how futile is the contention that because
faith rests upon a grand a priori argument, it must be rejected,
inasmuch as science, whose theories and conclusions are accepted
without demur by agnostics in religion, demands an a priori ad-
mission, an utterly unknown quantity, of a far less reasonable
character. Those chapters which deal with the objections to re- '
ligion from the scientist's stand-point are especially happy in
their sallies and rejoinders.

Father Vaughan plays with his adversaries as a skilful swords-
man, and the thrust and parry of his brilliant blade is very de-
lightful to follow.

1895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

275

The historical novel needs something more than the power
of narration to make it an acceptable vehicle for the diffusion
of historical truth. It ought not to be attempted save by those
who possess the power of divesting it of this character and
making its dramatis persona beings of flesh and blood and
passion and sympathy, such as those who made history actually
were in their day.

We regret to say that this power is not exhibited in the book
entitled Dervorgilla* It is all the more to be regretted inasmuch
as the lady who wrote the greater part of it had taken great
pains to master the facts of the dismal story of Ireland's
betrayal, and possessed a considerable grasp of the political
situation and the social condition of Ireland at the time of
MacMurrough's treachery. She . died before the work was
completed according to her own view a fact which may ac-
count for the crude condition in which the closing portion is
presented. It seems to have been her aim to redeem the fame
of Dervorgilla, and to explain in a rational way the reasons of
her departure with MacMurrough from Brefny. We can only
regret that the excellence of the intention was marred by the
hand of illness, as we learn from a note by the author's brother,
and the devotion witlh which the writer citing to her task all
through a lingering malady, to the very point of death, must in-
vest the work with something of the character of a tragic
literary legacy.

A capital book for juveniles has just made its appearance.
Its title is Army Boys and Girls ft and its author is a Catholic
lady who has lived with the army and knows her theme
thoroughly. Mrs. Bonesteel is the wife of an army officer, and
shows that she has as quick an eye and ear for the details of
military life as a West Point graduate. The stories are full of
incident and vivacity. Their fidelity to nature is exhibited in
the impartiality with which they reproduce some of the rough
aspects of camp life as well as its more pleasing amenities.
Although some of the tales teach an impressive religious lesson,
none are what might strictly be classed as religious stories, for
the humorous side of human nature finds its reflection in them
no less than the graver phases of life. The book is produced
in a brave suit of blue and silver, with military insignia, and has
several spirited illustrations.

* Dervorgilla; or, The Downfall of Ireland. By Miss Anna C. Scanlan. Completed and
revised, with preface, map, illustrations, and notes, by Charles M. Scanlan.

t Army Boys and Girls. By Mary G. Bonesteel. Baltimore : John Murphy & Co.

276 NEW BOOKS. [May.

SOCIALISM.*

Under the title Practicable Socialism Mr. and Mrs. Barnett
publish a volume of essays which had been contributed by them
to magazines and journals in England. Mr. Barnett, who ap-
pears to be a clergyman in East London, set about certain la-
bors in the way of social reform among the poor of that un-
happy region, and in his work he had an earnest coadjutor in
his wife. The essays are in part suggestions and in part ac-
counts of the result of the experience of the writers.

Mr. Barnett is perhaps correct in saying that the poverty
problem of the United States is so difficult that few American
citizens possess the proper knowledge for treating it adequately.
Accordingly, with the characteristic modesty of his country, he
sets about dealing with the subject himself.

We shall simply say that Mr. and Mrs. Barnett may be, and
we believe are, excellent people, and we sincerely regret that
they considered it necessary to draw from their graves in the
different periodicals the essays which constitute the handsome
and well-printed volume before us.

NEW BOOKS.

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co., Boston and New York :

Augustine of Canterbury. By Edward L. Cutts, D.D.
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, New York :

Outre Mer : Impressions of America. By Paul Bourget. How the Republic
is Governed. By Noah Brooks.

B. HERDER, St. Louis, Mo.:

-A New Practical German Grammar and Exercise Book. By Dr. Rudolf Son-
nenburg and Rev. Michael Schoelch.

BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

Theologia Moralis per Modum Conferentiarum auctore Clarissimo. By P.
Benjamin Elbel, O.S.F. Vol. III. Little Merry Face and his Crown of
Content, and other Tales. By Clara Mulholland. The "Jewish Race in An-
cient and Roman History. By A. Rendu, LL.D. Translated by Theresa
Crook. Eleventh edition. Bibliographical Dictionary of the English
Catholics. By Joseph Gillow. Vol. IV. An Exposition of the Acts of the
Apostles. By his Grace Most Rev. Dr. McEvilly, Archbishop of Tuam.

LONGMANS, GREEN & Co., New York :

The World as the Subject of Redemption. By W. H. Fremantle, M.A.

* Practicable Socialism. By Samuel and Henrietta Barnett. New York : Longmans,
Green & Co.

DEATH has again knocked at the door of the
Paulist Convent, and the community now mourns the
loss of one its most esteemed members, Father
Edward B. Brady. A most unselfish and devoted servant of God
was he who was called away. During a ministry of nearly a
quarter of a century he labored with an earnestness that never
faltered in the work to which he had consecrated the best
years of an early manhood and the best thought of a bright
intellect. Amongst the poor in the immediate vicinity of the
Paulists' parish he was especially active in the work of spiritual
and social reformation. His early demise, quite unexpected by
those who had seen him in vigorous health on his departure
for San Francisco only a few months ago, came as a painful
shock, but the severity of the blow was mitigated by the recol-
lection of the many lessons which the deceased priest had given
in his earthly career of perfect resignation to the Divine will
and humble trust in the mercy of Him to whose service he had
devoted his heart and mind and talent.

An event of far-reaching importance in the East is the ces-
sation of the war between China and Japan, culminating in a
treaty of peace between the two powers. The war thus closed
has been a unique one. History affords no parallel for the
unbroken success which characterized the attacking power. In
every operation the Japanese were victorious, and in many cases
most easily so. The destructive power of modern naval artillery
and torpedo boats was for the first time demonstrated in this
war, as several important engagements were fought by the
Japanese and Chinese iron-clad fleets. The destruction was
terrific, and the work of the immense exploding shells amongst
masses of combatants most ghastly and horrifying. Almost the
whole of the Chinese fleet fell into the hands of the Japanese.
China was, in the end, beaten to her knees and compelled to
sue most abjectly for peace. The exact terms of the treaty are
not as yet made public, but it is known that two results are

278 EDITORIAL NOTES. [May,

certain from it namely, the independence of Corea and the
cession of the island of Formosa to the Japanese. The
European powers appear to have set their faces against any
cession of Chinese territory on the mainland to Japan, as at
first demanded, it would seem, by the victor. But what is just
as repugnant, at least to England, appears likely to result from
this singular war. An alliance between the late combatants for
offensive and defensive purposes, as well as for industrial devel-
opment in China, is talked of. This contingency is regarded as
a very alarming one in England, as that country's trade with
China is enormous. It is therefore not improbable that some
curious developments in oriental affairs may soon be looked for.

The Astronomical Journal (December 10) reports that the
late comet, discovered by Edward Swift November 20, was ob-
served by Barnard at the Lick Observatory on the three days
immediately following. The finding ephemeris was derived from
the elements of computation by Father Searle, who made the
only other successful observation at the Catholic University at
Washington.

A fresh proof of the amazing mental vigor of the Sovereign
Pontiff, but more so still, his burning anxiety for a healing of
old wounds in the Christian body, is furnished in the appear-
ance of a new Encyclical. In this document, which was given
in English in the London Times on April 19, the Pope makes
a strong plea for the reunion of Christendom and an alliance
of all Christian peoples against modern infidelity. At the same
time he acknowledges in warm terms the services which English
legislation of late years has rendered to the cause of progress,
in providing for the betterment of the laborer, the spread of
education, the observance of Sunday, and like orderly objects.
At the close there is a form of prayer recommended to English
Catholics, with an indulgence of three hundred days attached
to its due recital.

1 895.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 279

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

MR. W. E. GLADSTONE ON THE LORD'S DAY.

(From McClure's Magazine for March.)

THE festival of the new life ! Not merely of the act of our Lord's rising,
which had for its counterpart the act of the Creator'^ resting ; but of the life, and
the employments of the life, which in His Resurrection body He then began.
Here comes into view a point not only of difference, but of contrast. The Fourth
Commandment enjoined not a life, but a death ; and all that may now be thought
to require a living observance of the day is not read in, but (as the lawyers say)
read into it. But the celebration of the Lord's Day is the unsealing of a fountain-
head, a removal of the grave-clothes from the man found to be alive, the opening
of a life spontaneous and continuous. It reminds me of the arm of a Highland
river which the owner of the estate dammed up with a sluice on all ordinary days,
but on special days he removed the barrier, and the waters flowed. And flowed
how long ? Until the barrier was replaced. Not for a measured half-hour or
hour, but as long as they were free to flow ; and not by propulsion from with-
out, but by native impulse from within. And in like manner the question for the
Christian is not how much of the Lord's Day shall we give to service directly
divine. If there be any analogous question it is, rather, how much of it shall we
withhold ? A suggestion to which the answer obviously is, as much, and as much
only, as is required by necessity and by charity or mercy. These are undoubtedly
terms of a certain elasticity, but they are quite capable of sufficient interpretation
by honest intention and an enlightened conscience. If it be said that religious
services are not suited for extension over the whole day, and could only lead to
exhaustion and reaction, I would reply that the business of religion is to raise up
our entire nature into the image of God, and that this, properly considered, is a
large employment so large that it might be termed as having no bounds. But
the limit will be best determined by maintaining a true breadth of distinction be-
tween the idea of the new life and the work of the old. All that admits the direct
application of the new spirit, all that most vividly brings home to us the presence
of God, all that savors most of emancipation from this earth and its biscentum
catena, is matter truly proper to the Lord's Day ; and what it is in each case the
rectified mind and spirit of the Christian must determine. What is essential is
that to the new life should belong the flower and vigor of the day. We are born
on each Lord's Day morning into a new climate, a new atmosphere ; and in that
new atmosphere, so to speak, by the law of a renovated nature, the lungs and heart
of the Christian life should spontaneously and continuously drink in the vital air.

A NEW SPHERE OF CHURCH ACTIVITY.

(From the Homiletic Review.)

No Christian in touch with the tendencies of the age can doubt that new
spheres of usefulness are being opened up to the Church by the labor agitations of
the day. Christian literature abounds in discussions of a social character, and this

280 WHA T THE THINKERS SA Y. [May,

is prophetic that a new era is dawning for practical life, as well as for Christian
theology and ethics. Whether the Church is willing or not to take it up, a social
mission is being forced on the Church as never before in its history. The mean-
ing of this mission evidently is that the social principles of Christ and his apostles
must be clearly and fully expounded and applied to the burning questions of the
day. The New Testament has a social system rich in facts, in laws, and in prin-
ciples ; this system and all it involves must be embodied, intellectually and ethi-
cally, in the institutions of Christianity. We need the Christian solution for such
problems as these : What is society ? How is the individual related to it ? What
social distinctions are sanctioned by the Gospel ? What place does the personal-
ity occupy in contrast with things ? What views prevail respecting labor and
service ? What is the duty of the strong to the weak ? How would Christ's law
of love and sympathy affect modern society ? These and numerous other ques-
tions are of first importance, and their answers would bring the Gospel into the
most immediate and most vital contact with the deepest concerns of the age.

IGNORANCE OF THE BIBLE.

(From the Literary Digest^

AMONG the scholars in our public schools and colleges ignorance of the
Bible, so we are told, prevails " to an extent inconceivable to any person a genera-
tion ago." The Editor's Study in Harper 's Monthly (March) refers to " recent
statistics " on the subject (without giving them), which are taken to furnish " a
curious illustration of the inadequacy of our educational machine to meet the
requirements of life." The writer, Charles Dudley Warner, inveighs against this
ignorance for reasons aside entirely from religious and ethical considerations. He-
says:

" Some of these pupils are victims of the idea that the Bible should not be
read by the young, for fear that they will be prejudiced in a religious way before
their minds are mature enough to select a religion for themselves. Now, wholly
apart from its religious or from its ethical value, the Bible is the one book that no-
intelligent person who wishes to come into contact with the world of thought and
to share the ideas of the great minds of the Christian era can afford to be ignorant
of. All modern literature and all art are permeated with it. There is scarcely a
great work in the language that can be fully understood and enjoyed without this
knowledge, so full is it of allusions and illustrations from the Bible. This is true
of fiction, of poetry, of economic and of philosophic works, and also of the scien-
tific and even agnostic treatises. It is not at all a question of religion, or theology,
or of dogma: it is a question of general intelligence."

In considering the reasons for this increase of ignorance, Mr. Warner traces
it in part to discontinuance of the use of the Bible in public schools, but still more
to its changed position in the home. He continues :

" In comparison with its position in the family a generation ago, it is now a
neglected book. It is neglected as literature. There are several suggestions for
reviving interest in it. One of them is already in operation in Sunday-school
work. Another is its study as literature in the schools and colleges. But we
believe that the change will only come effectively by attention to the fundamental
cause of this ignorance, the neglect of its use in the home in childhood. If its
great treasures are not a part of growing childhood, they will always be external
to the late possessor. In the family is where this education must begin, and it

WHA T THE THINKERS SA y.

281

will then be, as it used to be, an easy and unconscious educator, a stimulus to the
imagination, and a ready key to the great world of tradition, custom, history,

literature."

POSSIBILITIES OF PREACHING.

(Rev. St. John Cor bet t, M.A., in the Religious Review of Reviews?)

EVERY sermon should aim at the accomplishment of some definite result. The
congregation should " carry away " something of it which will make them the gain-
ers for having heard it. It would be hard to enumerate all the possibilities which
lie within the reach of a preacher possessing even moderate power over his listeners.
But we may name some of them. He may revive the knowledge of his hearers,
and increase their interest concerning some passage of Scripture already well known
to them. He may suggest a line of thought which they can follow out for them-
selves at leisure. If an expert at any branch of theological learning, he can teach
them something of history or exposition which they could not otherwise learn. And,
above all, he can surely keep his eyes open during the week as he goes his daily
round, and, without being personal, can be practical in dealing with the manifold
sins which so easily beset the paths of men. It is in striving to appear learned in
every sermon that so many of us make shipwreck. To be content with being sen-
sible and useful is to steer an even course between the Scylla of dulness and the
Charybdis of inaccuracy.

What we want is to be practical above all things. We have to deal with souls
which are in daily danger of being lost. They cannot be lost by any means which
are not known to us. Nothing is so stereotyped as sin. The man who simply
keeps by him a list of the sins which men and women are tempted to commit day
after day will always have something to preach about. It is a sin in itself not to
tell and to warn those whom we know to be doing wrong. We must hit hard.
Never mind how it hurts if it will save.

TENDENCY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE.

(Mr. Richard Burton in the Forum for April.)

THE spirit that denies, as embodied in Mephistopheles, eats like an acid into
the heart of endeavor ; it is cynical and contemplative as against the creative and
optimistic ; but in presentment is smug and decent, a la mode in dress, and with
the devil's hoof well hidden. In literature it is " artistic," in the jargon of the day.
The paramount temptation of the newer generation of literary makers in this
country is the acceptance, either by the conscious will or by the unwitting creative
soul, of the " art-for-art's-sake " doctrine, that legacy of the French natural-
istic school already, by the confession of its great leader, Zola, waning away after
thirty years of dominance. In a sentence, this creed would sharply dissever art
from ethics ; it concedes no morality to literature save the morality of the fine
phrase ; it is the artist's business to reproduce nature, and he is in nowise impli-
cated in the light-and-shade of his picture except to see to it that the copy is faithful.
Taken over into fiction, poetry, and the drama from the sister art of painting, this
banner-cry has resulted in a literary product whose foulness and lack of taste
accompanied often by great ability one must hark back to the decadent classics
to parallel.

282 WHA T THE THINKERS SA y. [May,

The negative spirit in England he adds is bad enough and sufficiently in-
congruous, but even if fit for one of the leading lands of Europe, would be pecu-
liarly out of place here in the United States, forelooking to a great future. For
American literature-makers to adopt either consciously or unconsciously the pes-
simism and dry-rot of France, Spain, Norway, and England, is an anachronism an-
alogous to that which Greece might have furnished if, in the day of Pericles, she
had taken of a sudden to the pensive idyls of Theocritus and the erotic epigrams
of Meleager. Our land, entering into its young heyday of national maturity, must
develop a literature to express and reflect its ideals, or we shall display to the
astonished world the spectacle of a vigorous people, hardly out of adolescence,
whose voice is not the big, manly instrument suiting its years, but the thin piping
treble of senility. Common sense and patriotism alike forbid such an absurdity.

THE NEW SCHOOL OF SOCIOLOGY AND ITS TASK.

(Mr. Carroll D. Wright in the Catholic University Bulletin.}

POLITICAL economy has failed to see that the highest industrial prosperity of
nations has attended those periods most given to moral education and practices.
History is full of lessons from which the new school will attempt to teach that the
growth of a healthy, intelligent, and virtuous operative population is as much for
the pecuniary interest of manufacturers themselves as for civilization ; that the de-
cline of the morals of the factory means the decline of the nation ; and that the
morals, the force, the higher welfare of the nation, depend upon the welfare of
the working masses.

From these premises I predict that political economy will, in the near future,
deal largely with the family, with wealth, with the state, as the three features of
its doctrines, and not confine itself to wealth alone. Under family, it will take
cognizance of the relations of the sexes, marriage and divorce, the position of
woman, and the education and employment of children ; the latter forming the
most vital element in the economic consideration of the scientists, as well as invit-
ing the ardent sympathies of the philanthropists. Under wealth, the old chapters
will be revivified in the light of moral discernment, relative to all the delicate, but
always reciprocal, relations of labor and capital. Under state, political ethics will
be taught as a direct means of securing the highest material and social posterity.

These considerations in the future will be demanded to answer the question
constantly put, how labor may be rendered more generally attractive and remuner-
ative, without impairing the efficiency of capital, so that all the workers of society
may have their proper share in the distribution of profits. This I conceive to be
the true labor question of to-day in the limited sense. Of course it is not that of
the socialists, nor of many radical labor reformers who find themselves on the
verge of socialism, but have not the courage to adopt its tenets ; but it is the sober
question of the sober, industrious, and thrifty working-men, and the humane, large-
hearted employers, of our country two types of men I prefer to speak to, hoping
thereby to indirectly speak to the Shylocks of both orders ; for, while the capital-
ists have their unprincipled Shylocks in one capacity, the reformers have theirs in
another.

The labor question, as I have announced it, seeks no panacea. It recognizes
the faults of our civilization as those belonging to development, not to inaugura-
tion. " And that there is not any one abuse or injustice prevailing in society by

1 895.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 283

merely abolishing which the human race would pass out of suffering into happi-
ness."* It recognizes the fallacy of attempting to win advantages by isolated at-
tacks at some special point, and that, like Christianity, civilization and its wonder-
ful movements, it must attack all along the line, and hence make itself felt in
all progressive steps and attempts to reach a higher and better life. It reaches
beyond the hackneyed statements of the old school, that the interests of labor and
capital are one, but incorporates them with another, that they are reciprocal ; and
while it freely admits that capital loans machinery and all the auxiliaries of pro-
duction to the working-man, without which advance he could not labor, except at
ruinous processes, it wants capital to feel that it depends for its vitality upon the
ability of labor to accept the loan ; that capital invested in the machinery of the
plant is dead matter until the operative vitalizes it with his presence ; and it knows
well that, if either undertakes to do as it chooses, it either falls or is obliged to ac-
cept the most meagre results. It demands that each should consult the other if
both are to be active and productive ; and its advocates find that in all communi-
ties where reciprocal interests prevail, and a moral standard actuates both parties,
the best prosperity is sustained. And, reaching farther than individuals and
beyond industrial success, it claims that a broad catholicity in trade is essential
to national success, and must take the place of the grasping principles of the
old school, which have been sufficiently disastrous to both individuals and to
nations. These demands, which seek to avoid adjustments by all and every
revolutionary means suggested by enthusiasts, and which appear upon the sur-
face at every recurrence of industrial depression, are based upon ethical grounds,
and yet in them lie the elements of economical progress.

THE WORLD'S RELIGIOUS PARLIAMENT EXTENSION.

(The Monistfor April.)

IT is to be hoped that the World's Religious Parliament Extension will con-
tribute toward that common ideal of all religious minds which will at last unite
mankind in one faith and prepare the establishment of a church universal. Rituals
and symbols may vary according to taste, historical tradition, and opinion, but the
essence of religion can only be one and must remain one and the same among all
nations, in all climes, and under all conditions. The sooner mankind recognizes
it the better it will be for progress, welfare, and all international relations, for it
will bring " glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace towards the men of
good-will."

We can see as in a prophetic vision the future of mankind ; when the religion
of love and good-will has become the dominating spirit that finally determines the
legislatures of the nations and regulates their international and home politics. Re-
ligion is not for the churches, but the churches are for the world, in which the
field of our duties lies. Let us all join the work of extending the bliss of the Re-
ligious Parliament. Let us greet not our brethren only, but also those who in sin-
cerity disagree from us, and let us thus prepare a home in our hearts for truth,
love, and charity, so that the kingdom of heaven, which is as near at hand now as
it was nineteen hundred years ago, may reside within us and become more and
more the reformatory power of our public and private life.
*Mill, Chapters on Socialism.

284 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

^pHE programme of the Catholic Summer-School on Lake Champlain for the
1 session of 1895, extending six weeks from July 7 to August 18, has been
announced by the chairman of the Board of Studies, Rev. F. P. Siegfried, of St.
Charles' Seminary, Overbrook, Pa. For the purpose of aiding systematic study all
the lectures are arranged in courses. This plan has academic reasons in its favor,
but it excludes the possibility of utilizing the large and varied experience of numer-
ous influential men among the Catholic laity who can condense valuable informa-
tion on current topics into one lecture. Conferences will be arranged for practical
talks on Sunday-school work, Reading Circles, and other important subjects.
Two sermons will be preached each Sunday, morning and evening, according to a
definite plan having as a central point the Church. Each week has three distinct
courses, which will be an inducement to those who cannot be present for the
whole session. No guarantee is needed in advance that a visit to Lake Cham-
plain even for one week during the session of the Catholic Summer-School will be
both pleasant and profitable. The subjects mentioned in the following pro-
gramme are varied and interesting. No previous gathering of Catholics in the
United States ever had a more illustrious array of speakers :

First Week, July 8. Rev. W. H. O'Connell, of Boston. The External
Relations of the Early Church.

Conde B. Fallen, Ph.D., of St. Louis. Philosophy of Literature.

Rev. Thomas J. A. Freeman, SJ. Mechanics.

Second Week, July 75. Rev. James F. Loughlin, D.D., Chancellor of the
Archdiocese of Philadelphia, Pa. The Internal Development of the Early Church.

George Parsons Lathrop, LL.D., of New London, Conn. The Beginnings of
English Literature.

Brother Baldwin. Physiology.

Third Week, July 22. Henry A. Adams, M.A., of Brooklyn. The Spanish
Colonization Period in American History.

V. Rev. John B. Hogan, D.D., Rector of Boston Theological Seminary.
French Literature.

Rev. Hermann J. Heuser, Professor of Sacred Scripture in St. Charles' Semi-
nary, Overbrook, Pa. Studies in Sacred Scripture.

Fourth Week, July 29 Rev. J. A. Zahm, Ph.D., C.S.C., of Notre Dame
University, Indiana. Modern Scientific Errors.

Richard Malcolm Johnston, LL.D., of Baltimore. The Evolution of the
Novel.

Rev. H. J. Heuser. Studies in Sacred Scripture.

Fifth Week, August j. Rev. James A. Doonan, S.J., Boston College.
Psychology.

Lawrence T. Flick, M.D., President of the American Catholic Historical So-
ciety, Philadelphia, Pa. The Physical Conditions of Happiness.

Rev. Henry G. Ganss, Carlisle, Pa. The Evolution of Music.

Sixth Week, August 12. Rev. James A. Doonan, SJ. Psychology.

1 89 5.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 285

Rev. D. J. O 'Sullivan, St. Albans, Vt. The French Colonization Period in
American History.

John La Farge, LL.D., New York. The Philosophy of Art.

ECCLESIASTICAL SERVICES AND SERMONS. Pontifical Mass. Celebrant,
Most Rev. Archbishop Satolli, Apostolic Delegate.

July 7, morning sermon by Most Rev. M. A. Corrigan, D.D., Archbishop of
New York. Evening sermon by Rev. Thomas J. Conaty, D.D.

July 14, Rev. Clarence E. Woodman, C.S.P.,.Ph.D.

July 21, morning sermon, by Most Rev. P. J. Ryan, D.D., Archbishop of
Philadelphia. Evening sermon by V. Rev. P. J. Garrigan, D.D., Vice-Rector
Catholic University of America.

July 28, sermon by Rt. Rev. Thomas D. Beaven, D.D., Bishop of Springfield.

August 4, sermon by Rev. James Coyle, Newport, R. I.

August 1 1 , morning sermon by Rt. Rev. T. S. Byrne, D.D., Bishop of Nash-
ville, Tennessee. Evening sermon by Rev. J. M. Whelan, Ottawa, Canada.

August 1 8, sermon by V. Rev. Joseph F. Mooney, D.D., V.G., New York.

Special courses may be announced later. As the introduction of special
courses for class-work will depend upon the demand for particular studies, all
those who would desire to follow a special course might communicate with the
secretary at once.

Instructors in special branches for summer courses are also invited to cor-
respond with the secretary.

Address all communications to the Catholic Summer-School of America, 123
East Fiftieth Street, N. Y. City.

* * *
Congratulations and best wishes were sent to the Columbian Catholic

Summer-School. in this letter:

WORCESTER, MASS., March 7, 1895.

Rt. Rev. S. G. Messmer, D.D., President Columbian Summer-School.
RIGHT REV. DEAR SIR :

At the semi-annual meeting of the Board of Trustees of the Catholic Summer-
School of America the President and Secretary were instructed to extend to you,
and through you to the Western Summer-School, their cordial greeting and good
wishes. It is our duty and our pleasure to transmit to you this expression of good
will and kindly feeling.

The aim of our schools is identical and the good to be accomplished depends
upon our united earnestness. We are both striving under the inspiration of our
religion to scatter the fruits of higher intellectuality among our people. In this
great country, so dear to us all, the field is a vast one, all the workers are needed,
and the truth we are commissioned to teach is the bond to unite us. I need not
assure you that from out our experience of three years we cordially greet you as
brethren in the great cause of higher education for the people, and we sincerely
rejoice in your promise of success, while we pray God to bless you beyond your
anticipations. The Catholic Summer-School of America welcomes its sister
school and sends its greetings to trustees and students.

THOMAS J. CONATY,

WARREN E. MOSHER, President.

Secretary.

* * *

In order that the many Catholics who are interested in the higher education

286 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May,

of our people may actively participate in the development of the Catholic Summer-
School of America, and that they may thus be brought into closer affiliation with
this great educational movement, it has been determined to institute Life and
Associate Memberships. This honorary membership will consist of men and
women whose practical Catholicity, social character, and culture are beyond
question.

HONORARY LIFE MEMBERSHIP. There shall be an Honorary Life Mem-
bership of eligible Catholics, not to exceed 2,000 in number.

The fee for an Honorary Life Membership shall be one hundred dollars, pay-
ments to be made within a reasonable time, and to suit the convenience of
members.

When the full amount of membership fee shall have been paid, each member
shall be entitled to nominate one person who may attend the lectures of the
general courses free. This privilege shall be granted for ten years. A life mem-
ber may name the same person or a different person each year for this free
scholarship. Another privilege of this membership shall be free access to all
general courses as well as the privileges of the Administration Building.

ASSOCIATE MEMBERSHIP. The Associate Members will pay an initiation
fee of twenty-five dollars, and annual dues at half the regular rates.

They shall constitute an active working body in the affairs of the Catholic
Summer-School, and shall have free admission to the general courses, special
privileges in the Administration Building, and in such other ways as may be deter-
mined by the Board of Trustees.

Should a member be unable to attend the sessions of the school, his annual
membership ticket, representing dues paid, may be transferred to another member
of his family. This annual fee will remain unchanged for Associate Members in
the event of an advance in the price of the general lecture courses.

When Associate Members shall have paid one hundred dollars, including
initiation fees and dues, they shall have the same privileges as Honorary Life
Members, except that which permits the nomination of a candidate for free schol-
arship.

Special courses, for which special fees may be demanded, are not included in
the privilege of either membership.

The Life and Associate Members shall constitute a Roll of Honor, and their
names shall appear in the catalogue of the school. They shall receive an honor-
ary certificate under the seal of the Catholic Summer-School of America, on the
receipt of which they shall be entitled to all the privileges of their membership

Full information concerning these memberships will be given on application
to any officer or trustee of the Catholic Summer-School.

The Honorary Life and Associate Members of the Catholic Summer-School of
America to April i, 1895, are as follows:

LIFE MEMBERS. New York. Most Rev. M. A. Corrigan, D.D ; Right Rev.
Monsignor John M. Farley, V.G. ; Very Rev. Jos. F. Mooney, D.D., V.G. ; Dr.
John Aspell, John G. Agar, Louis Benziger, Nicholas C. Benziger, Major John
Byrne, Miss E. A. Birmingham, Miss K. G. Broderick, Miss Margaret Barrett,
John D. Crimmins, Rev. Chas. H. Colton, Hon. Burke Cochran, James Clarke,
Hon. Joseph F. Daly, James Doyle, Charles V. Fornes, John T. Fenlon, Edward
D. Farrell, Mrs. M. E. Farrell, Rev. James N. Galligan, Rev. Gabriel Healy,
Forbes J. Hennessey, Miss Theresa Julian, Miss Mary A. Julian, Rev. Michael J.
Lavelle, Rev. William Livingston, Jesse Albert Locke, Marcus J. McLoughlin,

1 89 5.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 287

James McParlan, Miss Annie Murray, Hon. Morgan J. O'Brien, Daniel O'Day,
Mrs. Walter Roche, William M. Ryan, Philip A. Smyth, Charles W. Sloane, John
R. Spellman, Frank C. Travers, Mrs. Frank C. Travers.

Brooklyn.^. F. Curley, John W. Devoy, Charles A. Hoyt, M. H. Hag-
gerty, John C. Judge, William H. Moffitt, William G. Ross, Marc F. Vallette,
LL.D.

Pittsburgh. F. X. Barr, James Flannery, John Kelly, John Marron, Junius
McCormick, C. F. McKenna.

Mrs. A. E. O'Brien, Albany, N. Y.; Mrs. Mary Crompton, Worcester, Mass.;
Stephen Moffitt, Plattsburgh, N. Y.; Mrs. Margaret Deering, Chester, Pa.; Miss
Sara Dillon, Saratoga, N. Y.; Rev. J. J. Harty, St. Louis, Mo.; Rev. J. T. Tuohy,
St. Louis, Mo.; Miss Fannie Lynch, New Haven, Conn.; Frederick T. Driscoll,
Everett, Mass.; John Strootman, Buffalo, N. Y.; Miss H. E. Looney, Buffalo, N.
Y.; Warren E. Mosher, Youngstown, O.; P. M. Kennedy, Youngstown O.; J. J.
McNally, Youngstown, O.; Miss Charlotte Dana, Boston, Mass.; Robert J. O'Brien,
Jr., Troy, N. Y.; George Parsons Lathrop, LL.D., New London, Conn.

ASSOCIATE MEMBERS. Miss Mary A. Magovern^New York ; Serge A. Deu-
ther, Buffalo, N. Y.; Miss Teresa Cannon, Chicago, 111.; Mrs. Ella M. Baird, Bur-
lington, Vt.; Thomas P. Mulligan, Brooklyn, N. Y.

* * *

We have received the hand-books explaining the Extension Department of the
University of the State of New York. The Regents have in this way given de-
served recognition to many forms of self-improvement, which their critics in the
State Superintendent's office must admit to be of no small value for intelligent citi-
zens. Young men with reputations yet unmade have a chance to work with suc-
cess in organizing plans for utilizing the travelling libraries, and preparing the way
for eminent university professors. The same facilities are extended to women.
Questions may be sent to the information bureau established at the State Library,
Albany, N. Y., pertaining to any phase of university extension work, and also for
guidance in reading courses, home study, and self-culture. Recognition is given
to any reputable study club intended to supplement the education regularly pro-
vided in the common schools. Notwithstanding the unjust criticism which has ap-
peared in recent reports from the State Superintendent of Public Instruction, the
efforts of the Regents to assist the higher education outside the regular institutions
have met with cordial sanction from the people during the past ten years.

Continued study of one subject prevents waste of energy, but is not in all
cases practicable owing to the varied opportunities of members. Lord Playfair
gives an amusing example of this effort to please all in a single course by quoting
the programme of the Mechanics' Institute for 1845. It was as follows : " Wit
and humor, with comic songs ; Women, treated in a novel manner ; Legerdemain
and spirit-rapping ; The devil (with illustrations) ; The heavenly bodies in the
stellar system ; Palestine and the Holy Land ; Speeches by eminent friends of
education, interspersed with music, to be followed by a ball. Price for the whole
2s. 6d. Refreshments in the anteroom." The absurdity of this marvellous col-
lection appeals to all, but it is only in a lesser degree that all variety programmes
lack true educational value. Yet this is the point hardest to impress on local
managers, who with the best of motives neutralize much of the educational value
of their work by catering to the demand which results in the " variety hall "
entertainments so much deplored by intelligent friends of music and the drama.

This criticism would not, of course, apply to those clubs whose subject is

288 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May,

Current Topics, for this does not mean study of isolated subjects having no con-
nection with each other. The study of recent movements and events is necessar-
ily synthetic, bringing out causes and effects and the interrelation of the incidents
of modern progress.

Home study clubs or Reading Circles, wishing for registration in the Exten-
sion Department in the University of New York, are required to have an approved
course of study, at least five members, and to present an annual report to the Re-
gent's Office at Albany, N. Y. There are no fees for registration. The relation
established does not destroy autonomy in the local organization, which is free to fol-
low its own bent without leadership outside itself. While holding the policy of
non-interference, the department is always glad to give any desired help either in
outlining courses or by more detailed suggestion as to plans and methods of study.
By making known experiences shown in the reports, the energy now dissipated in
working on problems already solved by other clubs may be utilized in the intellec-
tual work of the club. Blanks for statistics are sent to all clubs, circles, and lec-
ture courses in the State known to the department, and from the returns is decided
whether the work done by each reporting body is of such a grade as to entitle it
to the endorsement of the State implied in formal registration by the university.

M. C. M.

IT is hoped that, whenever it be possible, our readers will
patronize those who patronize us through our advertising col-
umns. THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE carries the announce-
ments of only such firms as we have every reason to believe
are first class and honorable in their business dealings. Most of
our readers will have occasion to purchase such goods as are
here advertised. They can be assured of doing the Magazine
a favor and of getting what they bargain for by purchasing
from these firms, and particularly so if they will mention THE
CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE. Because we try to be choice in-
selecting advertisements we are always ready to investigate any
complaint ; while, on the other hand, advertisements that appear
should command a liberal patronage.

"HIS CHARITY TOWARDS THE SlSTERS HAS NEVER CEASED AND HAS

HAD NO LIMIT." Page j8j.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXI.

JUNE, 1895.

No. 363.

THE PENTECOST.

BY THOMAS F. BURKE.

ED flint to steel ; and from their icy hearts,
If chance be kind, to eager being darts
A spark of fire through blackened chaos flies
An instant's space it lives, and living, dies.

Wed man to maid ; if kindred natures free,

Blest; with a spotless inborn purity,

Each spirit favored with its likeness blends,

Into the other's depth each soul descends,

Perchance to hear the echo of its pain

Or tale of lonesome battles fought in vain

But wakes a flame of love that mocks at tears,

At toil, rebuke, and grim reproach of years.

Yet higher mount, beyond the stars above,
Where God sees God and Love unites with Love.
Forth bursts a Fire that will not be confined
Within the heavens ; but like a mighty wind,
That on celestial hill-tops has its birth,
Envelops space and in broad space our earth,
Our little earth, alive with souls of men
Behold the Pentecost!

2QO

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

[June,

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH THE PARENT OF
REPUBLICS.

BY J. THOMAS SCHARF, A.M., LL.D.

VER since the settlement of
America it has been the cry
of bigotry and intolerance that
Catholic principles are incon-
sistent with civil and religious
liberty, and destructive of
the political institutions
which lie at the foundation
of our free government.
Accusations such as these
"\against Catholics, based as they
;,rjare on ignorance, fall harmless
at their feet and rebound
against those who invent them.
The history of nineteen cen-
turies shows on every page that the Catholic Church approves
o/ every form of legitimate political government, and its pages
equally testify that all republics since the Christian era worthy
of that name have been formed and sustained by a people
holding principles which spring from the Catholic faith, our own
republic not excepted. He whose intellectual vision is open to
the light of first principles and their main bearings, and is not
altogether a stranger to true history, knows full well that the
Catholic Church has battled her whole lifetime for those rights
of man and that liberty which confer the greatest glory on the
American Republic. If Protestants have contributed to human
freedom, it was not as Protestants ; the motives which prompted
them did not spring from their religious creed. In no place
where Protestantism prevailed among a people as their religion
has it given birth to a republic, and nowhere in the nineteenth
century does there exist a republic in a Protestant land.

EARLY STRUGGLES OF THE CHURCH.

To enumerate the magnificent services of the Church in the
cause of civilization would involve little less than an abridge-

1 89 5.] THE PARENT OF REPUBLICS. 291

ment of the acts of her innumerable councils, and an epitome
of the works and policy of her pontiffs, hierarchy, and clergy.
The church was so trammelled and oppressed by the Roman
government, during the first three centuries of her existence,
that her influence on society during that period could not be
fully exercised, nor extensively felt. Still, though crushed and
bleeding, she spoke with a voice which raised up and comforted
the poor and the persecuted, and softened down the tyranny, or
struck terror into the bosom of the persecutor. In the second
century Tertullian could appeal to the immense number of
Christians in every part of the empire, as an argument to prove
the impotency of tyranny, and as a powerful inducement to
stay the arm of persecution. In the fourth century we find
the church employing her newly acquired influence on civil
society for the mitigation of tyranny, and the vindication of
the oppressed. At Milan we behold an Ambrose refusing com-
munion to the great Theodosius, who, in an evil hour, had
ordered a massacre of his people in the streets of Thessalonica,
without distinction of guilty and innocent. This stain of blood
was washed out only by a public penance such as the lowest
member of the church would have been constrained to undergo
for a similar offence. In the East we see a Chrysostom rebuk-
ing, with all his burning eloquence, the vices of an empress.
We say nothing of an Athanasius, of a Hilary, or of the
Roman pontiffs, who during the fierce days of Arianism had
the courage to suffer for the faith, and to tell the truth to
those emperors who, before their conversion to Christianity, had
been worshipped as gods, but were now to be taught that they
were weak, erring men.

NO DIVINE RIGHT FOR KINGS.

As early as the eighth century Pope Zachary, in writing to
the French, has these remarkable words : " The prince is
responsible to the people whose favor he enjoys; whatever he
has, power, honor, riches, glory, dignity, he has received from
the people, and he ought to restore to the people what he has
so received from them. The people make the king ; they can
also unmake him." And the same enlightened views were
adopted and repeated by his successors and by the most emi-
nent theologians. There is one especially that rises high above
all others, and embodies in his writings the opinions of the
clergy, and the spirit of the age in which he lived.

The profound and accurate scholar and "Angelic Doctor,"

292 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH [June,

St. Thomas Aquinas, proclaimed from the middle of the thir-
teenth century that " kings do not rule by divine right, but by
human authority ; and that to decree anything for the good of
the commonwealth, belongs either to the people or to their
representatives " ; and lays it down as a matter certain and
examined, that " political governments and kingdoms are found-
ed not on divine but on human law."

Another writer of high authority in the Catholic Church
maintained the supremacy of the people against the very body
of men that charge the Catholic clergy with being the enemies
of civil liberty. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, in
the reign of Elizabeth, and afterwards in that of James, when
the " now enlightened " clergy of the Church of England were
piously searching the Scriptures for divine authority to establish
the divine right of kings, and forcing it upon the poor Dis-
senters by the gentle suasion of rack and confiscation, Bellar-
mine, from the Vatican, " from the very place of the Pope,"
denounces all arbitrary or irresponsible power as a usurpation,
"and condemns it as false that princes hold their power from
God only, and that it belongs to the people to determine
whether they shall be ruled by kings or consuls " that is,
whether their' government shall be a monarchy or a republic.
And this is the doctrine that was held by all Catholic theolo-
gians before the so-called Reformation.

THE CHURCH MAKES WAR ON SLAVERY.

It was also a pope who first denounced the infamy of
human slavery, and successive pontiffs demanded its suppression
or sought to ameliorate the condition of the captive and the
slave. Long before Wilberforce had raised his voice in the
halls of Westminster and branded the " crime against civiliza-
tion," the church had encouraged the promotion of societies
for the redemption of the captive and slave ; and thousands of
her sons, inspired by heroic zeal, voyaged to barbarous lands to
become themselves substitutes for the Christian captives.
General and provincial councils in the Middle Ages had time
and again pronounced upon the rights and immunities of the
people, and promulgated constitutions and decrees as broad and
as liberal as any known to us in modern times.

INFLUENCE OF THE CRUSADES.

That the pages of history testify to the close relationship
existing between popular governments and the Catholic faith is

I895-] THE PARENT OF REPUBLICS. 293

further shown by the fact that all republics which since the
Christian era have sprung into existence under the influence of
the Catholic Church, were founded in the ages of faith and by a
Catholic people. The " free cities " of the Middle Ages those
nurseries of free principles owed their origin and their privi-
leges to the startling events of the Crusades.

Sir Thomas Erskine May tells us that it was " the Catholic
Church which qualified Italy for the enjoyment of freedom."
" In the twelfth century," he says, " there were no less than
two hundred municipalities or republics spread over the fair
land of Italy." " They were free," he adds, " and all their
institutions were republican, founded upon popular election and
public confidence." And again : " For three centuries several
of the principal cities may be regarded as model republics."

THE DESTROYERS OF THE REPUBLICS.

It might be asked : " But how came these republics to be
destroyed and their high state civilization to decay?" The
same Protestant historian answers that it was not the " menaces
of the Catholic system " or the popes which were the causes of
these misfortunes, but the common enemy of both the church
and the republics, the Emperor of Germany. " The first great
blow," he says, "to the liberties of the Italian cities was dealt
by the emperor, Frederick Barbarossa. Milan, and many of the
fairest cities of Lombardy and the north of Italy, were besieged
and pillaged, and often burned, by his savage soldiery. Not
content with plunder and subsidies, he also abridged their most
cherished liberties."

DEMOCRACY IN SWITZERLAND.

This monograph would bear still further development with
testimony drawn from the same pages, which show that in the
Swiss republic, founded in mediaeval times, no monarchy in
Europe had been more free than the cantons which gave still
the " example of a pure democracy such as poets might imag-
ine and speculative philosophers design." Those cantons are
they which are the most Catholic. Or we might bring forth the
testimony of Monsieur Guizot in his History of Christian Civil-
ization, in which he says that " we owe all modern representative
systems of political government to the example of the general
councils of the Catholic Church " ; or we might cite from Eng-
lish history hqw the Catholic barons, with Cardinal Langton at
their head, wrung from King John the Magna Charta of Eng-
lish liberties.

294 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH [June,

REPUBLICS WITH ECCLESIASTIC FOUNDERS.

Of all the old Catholic republics two yet remain, standing
monuments of the influence of Catholicity on free institutions.
The one is embosomed in the Pyrenees of Catholic Spain, and
the other is perched on the Apennines of Catholic Italy. The
very names of Andorra and San Marino are enough to refute
the assertion that Catholicity is opposed to republican govern-
ments. Both of these little republics owed their origin directly
to the Catholic religion. That of Andorra was founded by a
Catholic bishop, and that of San Marino by a Catholic monk,
whose name it bears. The bishops of Urgel have been, and
are still, the protectors of the former, and the Roman pontiffs
of the latter. Andorra has continued to exist, with few politi-
cal vicissitudes, for more than a thousand years, while San
Marino dates back her history more than fifteen hundred years,
and is therefore not only the oldest republic in the world, but
perhaps the oldest government in Europe. Both of these
republics are governed by officers of their own choice, and the
government of San Marino, in particular, is conducted on the
most radically democratic principles.

CATHOLIC CHAMPIONS OF FREEDOM.

In England the Reformation crushed the liberties of the
people transmitted to them by their Catholic ancestors, and
embodied in the Catholic Magna Charta. The tyrant Henry
VIII. trampled with impunity on almost every privilege secured
by that instrument. Royal prerogative swallowed up every
other element of government, both civil and religious. The king
was everything supreme in church and state ; the parliament
and the people were nothing a mere cipher. And this state
of things continued, with the brief and troubled interval of
Cromwell, or of the soi-disant " Commonwealth " excepted, until
the revolution in 1688, a period of one hundred and fifty years!
And what did the revolution effect? It did no more than re-
store to England the provisions of her Catholic Magna Charta,
which instrument, during the three hundred years preceding the
Reformation, had been renewed and extended at least thirty
times. It did not, however, do this to the fullest extent ; for
it refused to grant protection and the most unalienable civil
privileges to the Catholic body, to whom the British were
indebted for the Magna Charta and their glorious constitution.
Nor was this body emancipated from political slavery until 1829,

1 89 5.] THE PARENT OF REPUBLICS. 295

one hundred and forty-one years later ; and then the act was
passed with a bad grace, nor was it full in its measure of
justice, the tithe system and other intolerable evils still remain-
ing unrepealed !

A BLOOD-CEMENTED CHURCH AND STATE UNION.

When England, by act of Parliament, renounced the su-
premacy of the pope to acknowledge the supremacy of a cruel
and libidinous tyrant, the unhallowed union of church and state
was cemented by the blood of Fisher and More. The base
and selfish portion of the aristocracy and the needy miscreants,
who pandered to the lusts of Henry the Eighth, were attached
to the royal head of the church, by the golden ties of self-
interest, and spirited on by the hope of rich booty from violated
shrines, despoiled monasteries, and plundered churches and
abbeys. The Catholics of England were oppressed and robbed,
and the clergy were left to maintain an unequal contest against
the great " allied powers of church and state."

CATHOLIC FREEMEN IN AMERICA.

Such was the character of the persecutions from which our
Catholic forefathers sought a refuge in the wilds of America.
They raised the first altar to religious liberty in the New
World, and dedicated it, not for their own private devotion but
for the worship of all mankind. Their benevolence was as wide
and Catholic as their faith. The cross that they erected was
not the flag of selfish and bigoted triumph, but the true emblem
of salvation, the broad banner of the human race, under whose
sheltering and protecting arms the persecuted and oppressed of
every creed and of every clime might repose in peace and
security, adore their common God, and enjoy the* priceless
blessings of civil and religious liberty.

CATHOLIC DISCOVERERS.

The Catholic history of this country begins with the earliest
explorers by sea and land. The Catholics discovered and
colonized Greenland and had cathedral church and convent
there. Leif Ericson and his Catholic Northmen discovered and
visited Vinland, and was followed by Catholic bishops and
priests. Christopher Columbus, the Catholic, discovered the
Western Continent ; and if we undertake to examine who dis-
covered and who explored the coast-line of what is now known
as the United States, from the St. Croix, or Holy Cross, River to

296 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH [June,

the Rio Grande, we are met by the significant fact that every
league of it was made known to the world by Catholic naviga-
tors and Catholic pilots ; that the first names given to bay and
river, to cape and headland, to island and mainland, bore 'refer-
ences in most cases to the calendar of the Catholic Church.
These explorers were Cabot. Verazzani, Gomez, Ponce de Leon,
and Pineda. All bore with them their Catholic faith and the
services of the Catholic Church. The first to explore the Mis-
sissippi, from its northern waters to the Gulf of Mexico, were
Hennepin, Du Luth, Joliet, Marquette, La Salle, De Soto,
Luna, and other Spanish explorers, all Catholics. ' Cartier, also a
Catholic, discovered and named the St. Lawrence. Champlain, a
Catholic, made known and mapped the upper lake which bears
his name. The Jesuit Relations first gave the maps of Lake
Ontario and Lake Superior. The Sulpitian Dollier de Capon
drew the first map of Lake Erie. Fathers Jogues and Raym-
baut planted the cross at Sault Ste. Marie. A Jesuit discovered
the salt springs at Onondaga ; a Franciscan the oil springs near
Lake Erie ; Catholic missionaries first discovered Niagara. The
Catholic De La Verendrye first reached the Rocky Mountains ;
Menendez, a Catholic, and Oftate, a Catholic, founded our two
oldest cities, Saint Augustine and Santa Fe, which in their very
names tell of their Catholic origin.

EARLY CATHOLIC MISSIONS.

The first priests who are known to have offered the Mass
on our soil were the Dominican priests, Fathers Anthony de
Montesinos and Anthony Cervantes, who accompanied Ayllon
in 1526 when he founded his settlement of St. Michael de
Guandape on James River, Virginia. The first Jesuit to enter
the limits of this country was Father Peter Martinez, who was
killed by Native-Americanism in Florida ; one of the next was
Father Rogel, who founded an Indian school on the South
Carolina coast. Then came Fathers Segura and Quiros, who
were killed on the Rappahannock River in Virginia while en-
deavoring to convert the natives to Christ. All this was nearly
a century before there was a Protestant in the country. The
next Jesuits we hear of were at the north, where Father Biard
and his companions tried to establish an Indian mission off the
coast of Maine on Mount Desert Island. English Protestants
attacked the mission in a very aggressive manner ; they killed
a lay brother named Du Thet and carried off all the priests as
prisoners. Another Jesuit, Father Isaac Jogues, and his com-

1 895.] THE PARENT OF REPUBLICS. 297

panion, Brother Ren Goupil, tried to Christianize the Mohawks.
They were killed. Catholic missionaries were the first to study
the languages of our Indian tribes and reduced them to gram-
matical forms, so as to use them in bringing the heathen natives
to a knowledge of God and Christ the Redeemer Rale, in
Maine ; Bruyas, Gamier, and other Jesuits, in New York ; White,
in Maryland ; Pareja, in Florida ; Le Boullenger, in Illinois ;
Arroyo de la Cuesta and other Franciscans, in California ; Serra,
Garcia, and their companions, in Texas ; and at a late day,
Baraga, Marcoux, Belacourt, Mengarini, Gaillaud, Vetromile,
Giorda, Palladino. The first printing-press was set up in Mary-
land by the Jesuits, and they founded a college in Quebec
before Harvard began.

CATHOLIC FOUNDERS OF STATES.

Of the founders of States thirty-one out of forty-six, or
more than two-thirds, were first colonized and settled by Catho-
lics, and their history, if fairly written, must go back to Catho-
lic founders. How, then, can Catholics be regarded as strangers
in a land where Menendez, Oflate, Calvert, York, Cadillac,
Iberville, La Salle, Tonty, Teran, Laclede, Vincennes, Langlade,
Jogues, Marquette, Dubuque, Moyne, Nicolet, Joliet, Vigo,
Gibault, Membr, Hennepin, Penicaut, Ojeda, Raymbaut, Du
Pratz, Du Luth, Le Sueur, De Leon, Gordillo, Coronado,
and so many other Catholics laid the first foundations of the
present thriving and prosperous States and Territories.

Maryland was the only State of the Union planted by Catho-
lic enterprise, ruled originally by a Catholic proprietor and
Catholic freemen, and directed by a dominant Catholic spirit.
It was also the only -colony which adopted from the first the
American maxims of liberty and equality, and adhered to them
as long as the original founders and their disciples held power.
Neither New England nor Virginia believed in religious tolera-
tion, or would trust political privileges to those who rejected
the theology of the dominant majority. Catholic Maryland fur-
nishes the only instance in our history of a colony founded and
consistently administered upon what are known as American
principles.

THE CALVERTS IN MARYLAND.

To George Calvert, the first Baron of Baltimore, and his son,
Cecilius Calvert, belongs the glory of providing a shelter from
Anglican intolerance, not only for their brethren in faith, but

298 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH [June,

for the oppressed of every Christian nation. It is admitted that
the first Lord Baltimore drew the charter of Maryland and
traced the plan of government. To him, therefore, is justly
ascribed the honor of being the first legislator who, rising above
the spirit of his country and the bigotry of his age, incorporated
into a system of government the great principle of religious
freedom. The charter, unlike any patent which had hitherto
passed the great seal of England, was most liberal in all its pro-
visions, and none but a favorite could have obtained such an in-
strument from any of the absolute and arbitrary monarchs who
sat upon the throne of England since the apostasy of Henry the
Eighth. It rendered Maryland less dependent on the king and
Parliament than any other colony. It made the monarch's sanc-
tion unnecessary to the appointments or legislation of the province,
and left him without even a right to take cognizance of what
transpired within its limits. It foresaw and guarded against the
odious and oppressive claim of the mother country to tax Amer-
ica, and gave to Maryland, more favored in this than any of her
sister colonies, an explicit covenanted right to exemption from such
a stretch of parliamentary jurisdiction as the tea-tax and stamp-
act, which caused the Revolution. It invested the lord proprietary
with few powers beyond those which even at this day we regard
as essential to the executive branch of a free government, and it
especially declared that his authority should not extend to " the
life, member, freehold, goods, or chattels " of any colonist. It
provided for a representative system, as soon as the body of
freemen should become too numerous for all to meet in council ;
and it secured to the people an independent share in the legis-
lation of the province, by requiring that the laws made for their
government should be enacted " of and with the advice, assent,
and approbation of the freemen," or a majority of them or of
their deputies.

Before the patent passed the great seal George Calvert died,
and the grant of Maryland so named in honor of the queen,
Henrietta Maria was made out and confirmed June 20, 1632,
in the name of Cecilius Calvert, George Calvert's eldest son and
heir to the title of Baron of Baltimore. As soon as the charter
passed the great seal, Leonard Calvert, the brother of Cecilius,
was sent over in the Ark and Dove with about three hundred
persons, accompanied by three Jesuit priests, to colonize the new
territory. The vessels sailed from Cowes on St. Cecilia's Day,
the 22d of November, 1633, and made a settlement at St. Mary's
City on the 25th of March, 1634. " On the day of the Annun-

1 895.] THE PARENT OF REPUBLICS. 299

ciation," says Father White, " we first offered the sacrifice of
the Mass, never before done in this region of the world ; after
which, having raised on our shoulders an immense cross which
we had fashioned from a tree, and going in procession to the
designated spot, assisted by the governor and his associates and
other Catholics, we erected the trophy of Christ, the Saviour,
and on our bended knees humbly recited the Litanies of the
Holy Cross."

CATHOLICS LEAD THE WAY IN TOLERATION.

The Catholic freemen of the province, as long as power re-
mained in Catholic hands, were not behind the proprietary in
liberality of spirit. To their eternal honor be it said, they most
heartily concurred in every measure, which extended to their
Protestant brethren all the benefits of their own condition. In
order that the uniform practice of the government from the
beginning might have the solemn sanction and security of a leg-
islative enactment, they passed the law of 1649 in favor of re-
ligious freedom, and thus placed on the statute book an enduring
record of their enlightened views and equitable disposition.
"Whereas," such was the sublime tenor of the statute, "the en-
forcing of conscience in matters of religion hath frequently
fallen out to be of dangerous consequence to those common-
wealths where it hath been practised ; for the more quiet and
peaceable government of this province, and the better to pre-
serve mutual love and unity among the inhabitants, no person
or persons whatsoever within this province, professing to believe
in Jesus Christ, shall frorri henceforth be anywise troubled,
molested, or discountenanced for or in respect of his or her re-
ligion, nor in the free exercise thereof within this province, nor
any way compelled to the belief or exercise of any other reli-
gion against his or her consent."

Thus Maryland established the principle, and, above all, the
practice of Christian toleration in the new hemisphere, and laid
the ground-work for the complete superstructure which was
afterwards reared by the hands of Jefferson and his illustrious
co-laborers in the cause of truth. She was the first to give re-
ligious liberty a home, " its only home in the wide world ": where
the disfranchised friends of prelacy t from Massachusetts, and
the Puritans from Virginia, were welcome to equal liberty of
conscience and political rights. The passage of this law by the
Catholics of Maryland is also in marked contrast with the rule

300 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH [June,

of Roger Williams at Providence, Rhode Island, where for fifty
years he excluded the Catholics from the franchises of his own
asylum from Puritan persecution. It is also in contrast with the
government of William Penn, who, notwithstanding he copied all
the liberal provisions of his charter from the charter of Maryland,
rebuked his officers for toleration of the Catholic worship.
Both of these men were infected with a pious hatred of the
Mother Church, and Roger Williams was so bigoted that he cut
the cross out of the British flag.

When the fugitives from Protestant intolerance found refuge
in Maryland they exemplified the snake in the fable, and after-
wards stung the bosom that sheltered them when, persecuted
and homeless, they were wanderers upon the face of the earth.
Nor did these only find an asylum in " The Land of the Sanc-
tuary " every clime sent its emigrants, and in the benign spirit
of legislation the sympathies of the Catholic colonists were ex-
tended to them all, without regard to the sect to which they be-
longed or the nation from whence they came. Of these facts
no information was sought ; all that was known was that the emi-
grants were children of misfortune, and as such they were kindly
received and nobly cherished. The Huguenots from France,
and the afflicted from Holland, from Germany, from Finland,
from Sweden, from Piedmont, from Jerusalem, and even from
Bohemia, the country of Jerome and of Huss, came there seeking
protection under the tolerant sway of the founders of Maryland,
and at once, with equal franchises, were made citizens.

PROTESTANT INGRATITUDE.

When the Protestants became the majority in the province
they forgot all about the " ancient glories of Maryland," and
were always ready to head a treasonable insurrection " to root
out the abominations of popery and prelacy,!' and to foster a
" thorough good reformation." Under the ever-ready pretext
that their rights and liberties were in danger from the Jesuits
and the pope, they several times completely revolutionized the
government of Maryland. In 1688 the people of Maryland were
dwelling under the proprietary government in apparent security
and contentment, but in a short time the old landmarks were
swept away, and the destinies of the province committed to the
keeping of " The Protestant Association." It is a fact, strange
but true, that while the Protestant revolution was avowedly
originated and conducted for the defence and security of the

1895.] THE PARENT OF REPUBLICS. 301

Protestant religion, there is not the first trace of evidence that
the free exercise of that religion by its professors was ever for
a moment endangered or restricted. The articles of grievances
exhibited by the lower to the upper house, at the session of
1688, do not ascribe a single act of deliberate oppression or
wanton exercise of power immediately to the proprietary or his
governors. They do not even insinuate the slightest danger to
the Protestant religion, or impute to the proprietary administra-
tion a single act or intention militating against the free enjoy-
ment and exercise of it. Fanatical men had poisoned the pub-
lic mind ; a groundless revolution had hurled the proprietary
from his ancient dominion ; and, at the express solicitation of
the rebellious " Associators " the "A. P. A.'s " of that day-
Maryland was placed in the 'humiliating attitude of a royal
province.

A BIG PLUNGE BACKWARD.

King William assumed the executive power, and the first act
of the new assembly was "the act of recognition of William and
Mary " ; by the second " the Church of England was formally
established." Thus was introduced, for the first time, in Mary-
land a church establishment sustained by law and fed by gen-
eral taxation. The Catholic, the Puritan, the Quaker, and every
other Non-conformist, was taxed to support a form of worship
which they repudiated. Under the old system every man had
paid his own preacher. Upon the improved plan, the whole
people now paid the ministers of the dominant party.

In 1702 the English toleration act was extended to all Prot-
estant dissenters in the colony. The Catholic was now the
only one under the brand of intolerance. And so he remained
until the Revolution. Thus, in a colony which was established
by Catholics, and grew up to power and happiness under the
government of a Catholic, the Catholic inhabitant was the only
victim of intolerance. The establishment of the Protestant re-
ligion within the province was followed up by penal laws for-
bidding Catholic priests to say Mass or exercise the spiritual func-
tions of their office, prohibiting Catholics from engaging in the
instruction of youth, and empowering their children, if they be-
came Protestants, to compel their parents to furnish them a
maintenance adequate to their condition in life. Catholics were
even excluded from social intercourse with Protestants ; were
not permitted to walk in front of the state-house, and were ac-
tually obliged to wear swords for their personal protection.

302 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH [June,

A PERIOD OF CHANGE.

The fortunes of Maryland, however, did not fall with her re-
ligious freedom, for a merciful Providence foresaw the dawning
of a glorious day when another generation would vindicate her
justice, and consummate the destinies of his chosen land. No
man at that time dreamed of independence, and^ yet the ele-
ments of revolution and nationality were combining with .a won-
derful power of assimilation. The instincts of old reverence and
the pride of ancient days were fast dissolving before the hot
breath of change. The fierce contest between France and Eng-
land for colonial supremacy had accustomed the different colo-
nies to mutual intercourse, and to a reliance upon their own
courage and resources. The people of Maryland had learned
to comprehend the meaning of oppression. What was .unjust
and revolting to them in the policy of England, they learned
to compare with their own home policy against the disfranchised
victims of their intolerance. Catholics of whatever race or
origin were unanimous on the right of self-government. The
Irish and Scotch Catholics, with old wrongs and a lingering
Jacobite dislike to the house of Hanover, required no labored
arguments to draw them to the side of the popular movement.
Even a hundred years before in the councils of Britain fears
had been expressed that the Maryland Catholics, if they gained
strength, would one day attempt to set up their independence ;
and the event justified the fear. If they did not originate
the movement, they went heartily into it. Under the leader-
ship of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, " the first citizen " of
Maryland, the Catholics, who numbered nearly one-fourth of the
population in all the colonies, were harmonious in favor of Ameri-
can independence. Charles Carroll of Carrollton, although a
disfranchised Catholic, entered with an ardent soul into the de-
fence of colonial freedom. He did not, in the taunting language
of one of his enemies, " enjoy the privilege of offering his puny
vote at an election," but he laid upon the altar of Freedom the
offering of a valiant heart. He was excluded from the councils
of his native land, but he served her gallantly in the hour of
trial, when many more highly favored by law were guilty of
treason. In the fierce discussions upon the rights of the colo-
nists his powerful pen swept down all opposition, and the peo-
ple triumphed in his victories. Subsequently this great man
filled many stations of high trust and eminent danger, and was

1 895.] THE PARENT OF REPUBLICS. 303

the last of the old fifty-six who pledged their life, their fortune,
and their sacred honor.

CATHOLIC HELP FOR THE UNION ALL THE WORLD OVER.

The first bugle-blast of America for battle in the name of
freedom seemed to wake a response in the Catholic hearts of
Europe and America. Officers came over from Catholic France
to offer their swords, the experience they had acquired, and the
training they had developed in the campaigns of the great com-
manders of the time. Meanwhile Catholics were swelling in
the ranks, and, like Moylan, rising to fame and position. The
American navy had her first commodore in the Catholic Barry,
who had kept the flag waving undimmed on the seas from 1776,
and in 1781 engaged and took the two English vessels Atlanta
and Trepassay ; and on other occasions handled his majesty's
vessels so roughly that General Howe endeavored to win him
by offers of money and high naval rank to desert the cause.
Besides Catholic born, who served in army or navy, in legisla-
tive or executive, there were also men who took part in the
great struggle whose closing years found them humble and de-
voted adherents of the Catholic Church. The Catholics in the
country were all Whigs, and the Catholics of Canada were fa-
vorable, ready to become our fellow-citizens.

To sustain American independence French and Spanish
blood was poured out like water. The arms, the gold, the
ships, the armies of the two great Catholic powers were given
in unstinted measure to the United States. Catholic Italy and
Catholic Germany exerted themselves in our favor. Catholics
held for us our north-eastern frontier, and gave us the North-
west ; Catholic officers helped to raise our armies to the grade
of European science ; France helped to weaken the English at
Newport, Savannah, and Charleston ; crippled England's naval
power in the West Indies, and off the capes of Virginia utterly
defeated them ; then with her army aided Washington to strike
the crowning blow at Cornwallis in Yorktown. Catholic Spain
aided us on the western frontier by capturing British posts, and
under Galvez reduced the British and Tories at Baton Rouge
and Pensacola. And, on the other hand, there is no Catholic's
name in all the lists of Tories.

Washington uttered no words of flattery, no mere common-
places of courtesy, but what he felt and knew to be the truth,
when, in reply to the Catholic address, he said : " I presume

304 JUNE. [June,

that your fellow-citizens will not forget the patriotic part which
you took in the accomplishment of their Revolution and the
establishment of their government, or the important assistance
which they received from a nation in which the Roman Catho-
lic faith is professed."

INTERESTED LOYALTY.

It is a good thing to be loyal to one's country, and even a
sacred obligation to defend her interests ; but men will never
prove their loyalty by being unjust to their fellow-citizens. If
they aspire to place and profit, they should pursue those ends
by virtuous and honorable means ; but to build up their fortune
upon the ruin of others, to seek distinction and the spoils of
office by the arts of calumny and proscription, is a criminal
attempt to sap the very foundations of the Republic.

IUNE.

A NOCTURNE.
BY M. T. WAGGAMAN.

THWART the dark the moon her silver weaves,
k Within the web the struggling stars are pale,
Upon the fervent air the black bats sail ;
Wind-quickened shadows coil amid the leaves
Of yonder trembling sycamore where grieves,
Thro' mystic hours, the love-lorn nightingale ;
The fireflies strew with flame the dusky vale,
From out the south a wave of perfume heaves
And rolls across the heath and laves the pines,
Whose jagged steeps the dim horizon gird.
Dream-blossoms from the groves of Sleep are blown
Adown the summer glooms June's spell entwines
My spirit, and the Real grows faint and blurred,
As nearer drifts the night to the Unknown.

ONLY THE OLD MOUNTAINS REMAIN." (THE NOTCH HUNTER'S.)

AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS.

BY REV. B. J. REILLY.

WAY in the distance, as you leave the car at
Kingston-on-the-Hudson, you can see, standing
out boldly in the sunshine, a chain of mountains
called, after a " peace-loving " tribe of Indians,
The Catskills. Rip Van Winkle, as Washington
Irving tells us, fell asleep there long ago, and slumbered until
his well-oiled fowling-piece had become worm-eaten and en-
crusted with rust, and his beard had grown a foot long.

Master Hendrik Hudson, also, and his jolly company had
their home in the mountains, and made them re-echo with the
thunder of their nine-pin balls. But Rip Van Winkle has long
since slept the sleep that knows no waking, and Hendrik
Hudson and his merry crew have ceased their play. Only the
old mountains remain.

The trip from Kingston to Phoenicia, where the mountains
begin, is through a pleasant valley which is much like the
mountains, in that its appearance never seems to change. Every
summer the same cows are coming down the winding lanes at
milking-time, and the same old white horses are feeding within
rail-fences, as if they had been there all through the snows of
winter and the showers of spring. Yet the scene is not monoto-
nous ; rather it is restful.
VOL. LXI. 20

3o6 AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS. [June,

At Phoenicia there is a branch road, called The Stony
Clove, which runs to the Kaaterskill Hotel and the village of
Hunter. In order that we may reach the little old Church of
St. Henry's we must go on board of the lonesome-looking car
that is attached to an engine standing on the side track. This
will bring us to Hunter. To fully enjoy the scenery of the
mountains that rise so high on each side of the Clove through
which the train passes, one should make the journey as the sun
is setting. Cool breezes come laughing down the mountain
sides, join hands like merry children, and so romp along
together. The shadows lengthen on the tops of the mountains,
a narrow brook swollen by heavy rains dashes down the hill-
side with all the violence of a torrent and is lost in a brackish
pool of water, which lies in the shadows as quiet as death. All
the while the train keeps climbing the mountain. The breezes
grow more refreshing, the sun sinks out of sight, and the twi-
light falls as softly as a benediction. Then the stars blossom
quickly in the heavens, fire-flies swirl in the air, and peace
reigns. Were it not for the labored puffing of the engine
which breaks the quiet, one might easily realize how old Rip
Van Winkle fell asleep in the Catskills and did not awaken for
twenty long years.

The train, before reaching Hunter, makes its way through a
narrow pass between Mink and Hunter Mountains, called " The
Notch." So well enclosed is this gorge that there are some
parts of it in which the sun never shines, and the village boys
have found ice there in August. One of the curiosities of the
Notch is a large rock of a peculiar shape, called " The Devil's
Pulpit and Tombstone," Everywhere in the Catskills as seems
to be the case in most country-places there are a great many
things named after this Satanic personage ; a bad piece of road
is apt to be termed " The Devil's Race-course," and a rocky,
thistle-grown patch of ground will be called " The Devil's Half-
Acre."

Almost the only reminders that in the last century the
Indians wandered free as the summer air over the mountains
are a few romantic stories which the natives still tell. The
most interesting one that I heard was a story 'connected with
the Notch. It seems that some time in the last century (dates
savor too much of realism and this is romance) a young Indian
brave fell in love with an Indian maiden whom he had chanced
to meet while resting after a hunting expedition. She lived with
her father history makes no mention of the mother down by

I895-]

AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CA TSKILLS.

307

the side of the Hudson River, somewhere near what is now the
village of Catskill. When the young Indian laid his fame and
fortune at the feet of the maiden, she, as was only proper,
referred him to her father. The young man then came to the
wigwam of the chief and begged the hand of his daughter.
This petition was rejected, whether because the old Indian
loved his child so dearly, or because he found her indispensable
for the work of his wigwam, I know not. He dismissed the
suitor civilly, but in a manner to deprive him of all hope.
" Go back, young man," he said, " and choose a wife from

THE OLD MOUNTAIN HOUSE.

among the daughters of thy own people." Finding the father
inexorable, the young couple put their heads together, and the
consequence was that one wild stormy night, as " the lightning
flashed and the thunder rolled," they shook the dust of the
chieftain's wigwam from their moccasins, and flew like mad over
the mountains. After long travelling through the hill country
they came, footsore and weary, to the Notch, and, delighted
with it, they chose it for their home. Things went well for
a time with our Minnehaha and her Hiawatha. They lived in
Arcady, and could " fleet the time carelessly as they did in the
golden world." The birds of the air and the delicious trout of

308 AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS. [June,

the mountain streams replenished their earthy table under the
maples. But there came too soon a day of cruel reckoning.
Before the summer had passed, before the leaves of the maple-
trees were tipped with scarlet and gold, the summer of their
happiness ended. The angry father, with a band of warriors,
came stealthily down the mountain side. The young lovers
were sitting on a low cliff planning how they would protect
themselves against the hardships of a long winter. Love, they
say, is blind, and so it must be, for the maddened father had
his bow drawn to shoot before his presence was even suspected.
His poisoned arrow was pointed at the heart of the man who
had, to his thinking, robbed him of his child. His practised
hand drew the cord and the arrow came cutting through the
air. The young bride was the first to see the danger, and to
save her husband she threw herself in front of him ; and so
the arrow pierced two hearts. Even in death they were still
united. As a proof that this story is true, to this very day the
place where their young lives were sacrificed is called " The
Indian Maiden's Cliff."

About two miles from the Notch is the town of Hunter,,
which is the terminus of the Stony Clove Railway. Hunter was
developed about the year 1815, by Colonel William Edwards,
because of the hemlock-trees abounding there, whose bark was
useful for tanning leather. The only remaining memory of the
old colonel is the high mountain overlooking the town, which
has been called "The Colonel's Chair." So it would seem that
from the days of Rip Van Winkle even to these these, the
days of the summer boarder the Catskills have been a desirable
place for sleeping, sitting, and resting. Long ago the " up-and-
down " saws of the tanneries ceased, and for many years Hun-
ter has depended for revenue on its salubrious atmosphere.
The two best things about the town are the delightful old elms
that line its one street and the mountains around it. For
the rest, it is about as interesting as most American villages.

During the summer months a great many Catholics from
New York and Brooklyn go to this part of the Catskills, and
the consequence is that there are, besides the parish church at
Hunter, and the old deserted church at Ashland, mission
churches at Tannersville and Lexington. These four churches
are under the care of Father O'Neill, who resides in Hunter.
Nearly all who visit this section of the mountains have seen the
churches at Hunter, Lexington, and Tannersville, but few, if any,
besides the rector, a priest of the Newark diocese and myself,

I895-]

AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS.

309

have ever visited St. Henry's at Ashland. This old church is
about eighteen miles from Hunter, and the drive is a most de-
lightful one. The road winds around the mountains and passes
through several tiny villages. At quite a short distance from
Hunter there is a chair-factory, and the saws hum monotonously
through all the summer days. For about five miles you have
with you the Schoharie Creek, which is at times as dry and
parched-looking as asphalt, and again at other times like a
mighty river.

Under a grand old elm-tree which shaded a small cottage
we passed, as we rolled along in the mountain wagon, a young
mother trying to sing her baby to sleep. The song she was
singing was " Empty is the Cradle ; Baby's gone," and strange

"THE OLD CHURCH is ABOUT EIGHTEEN MILES FROM HUNTER."

as it may seem, still it is true, that old as the song is she did
not have the right air. Whether or no this was the reason, her
singing produced no drowsy effect, for just as our wagon passed
the house the baby raised its head, and the big bright eyes
looked as if many songs would be sung before they would close
in sleep.

At long intervals there are little white cottages, each of
which seemed a reduplication- of the other. They stand but a
short distance back from the road, and are well flanked with an

310 AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS. [June,

array of garishly bright milk-pans which have been scoured and
are being freshened with sunshine. Elderly-looking women,
dressed in subdued cotton prints, with their gray hair in a roll
on each side of their heads, stand in the doorways. They re-
mind one of Jane Field, and the other types made familiar to
us by Miss Mary E. Wilkins, only they have not that hardness
of visage which seems to be the effect of the terrible New Eng-
land conscience. Rather they look as if they had just stepped
forth from some faded old daguerreotype.

On both sides of the doors of the cottages grow hollyhocks,
stiff and stately, but for all that homely. They seem to stand
as sentinels there. It is their privilege, consecrated by long
years of fidelity. The first flower that a farmer's child learns to
notice and to love is the hollyhock, which grows so near to the
window that the child can almost touch it with its hand. The
path leading up from the gate is bordered with pansies, feather-
flowers, and clusters of sweet-peas, while poppies blaze like fire
against the white cottages, and sunflowers bob their silly heads
in the breezes. Often along the fences geraniums, fuchsias, and
bleeding-hearts grow in pots, but these have a town look. In
the city it is refreshing to see a little garden in a window, or
to hear the chirp of a caged canary bird ; but it jars one to see
these things in the country, where we would like to feel that
the flowers grow at random and the birds sing freely in the
tree-tops. If you want to appreciate flowers growing in pots,
tomato-cans, and soap-boxes, you must climb to the top of a
six-story dwelling-house in a down-town district of New York
City, where the fire-escapes of the front and rear houses almost
touch each other. Then you will love the few little plants
that grow " in the tenement's highest casement." You will
feel that the tiny pale blossom that struggles for sunlight is a
"thing of beauty." But in the country it should not be thus.

When we had gone about half the distance of the journey,
the driver drew up his horses at a trough near which several
farmers were disputing. One of them, tall and gaunt, was wax-
ing eloquent. " Well, sir," he was saying just as we arrived,
" our farms don't be a patch on farms out West. Why, when
I was out to the Chicago Fair, I met a man from the State of
Kansas, and he told me that he has seen with his own eyes
more'n five hundred self-binders starting out of a morning to
cut wheat, and it would take them the hull day clean to sunset
to jest do the farm one way." The smallest man in his audi-
ence demurred a little, but the speaker, brushing him aside, con-

i8 9 5.]

AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CA T SKILLS.

tinued : " Yes, sir ; that stranger from Kansas told me it be as
putty a sight as ever a mortal man seed on this foot-stool to
watch them five hundred self-binders starting out on a sunshiny
morning like ships goin' to sea/' "Look here, Mr. Gara," broke
in the disciple of St. Thomas, " no man living can make me be-
lieve that there's a farm on this earth big enough to need five
hundred self-binders. I'm no mossback to swallow that." "You
ain't no mossback, ain't you ? Well, that's jest what you be.
Before you contradict me I'd like to put one question to you."
Here the tall man drew himself up until he appeared like a tall
but very thin ogre, and looking down contemptuously on Tom
Thumb, he deliberated for a few moments to give sufficient unc-
tion to his words. Just then the driver of our wagon gave the
lines a pull, and in an instant we were under way again. His
action was so sudden that I did not recover myself for a mo-
ment. As 1 soon as I did, however, I reached over the seat and
caught his arm and begged of him to wait another moment, I

ROAD UP THE MOUNTAIN.

did not want to lose that question. When the horses were
brought to a halt I turned again -to listen. The large man
seemed to be growing larger, and the small to continue shrink-
ing up. Once more that same harsh, dogmatic voice broke the

312

AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CA T SKILLS.

[June,

stillness of the summer air. "There's jest one question I'd like
to ask you, sir, and it's this : Have you been to the Chicago
Fair ? " Any other question but that one the small man might
have been able to answer with dignity. His opponent was the

"WHERE RIP VAN WINKLE FELL ASLEEP AND DID NOT WAKEN FOR TWENTY YEARS."

only one in the township that had been to the " White City."
How could he make head against such superiority. David, son
of Isai, had no stone in his scrip, and Goliath of Geth con-
quered. There was no reason why we should any longer delay,
and the driver gave the whip to the horses. As we journeyed
on the thought came to me that at least one great evil will fol-
low from the World's Fair. It will give the rural Sir John
Mandevilles a chance to pile on the agony, and then, when their
statements are questioned, they will be able to crush into pulp
men of better parts by asking : " Neighbor, were you to the
Chicago Fair?"

It has always been my experience, when travelling on lone-
some country roads, to have pointed out to me the habitation
of some learned doctor, or of some mysterious hermit.

In this case it was the house of an erudite physician who
knew how to cure every ailment by using certain kinds of
herbs. From the appearance of his home I should judge he

i8 9 5-]

AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CA T SKILLS.

was a thrifty man. There were a few panes of glass in the
windows, but in most places where the glass should have been
discarded garments were made to serve. A number of villan-
ous-looking medicine bottles stood in a row on the window-sill.
The old M.D. was out in the garden whisking potato-bugs off
his vines. When the neighboring farmers and their families are
all well, the doctor turns an honest penny selling " taters."
One often wonders who these ancient physicians are. Whether
they are seventh sons with a magic power, or the remains of
plucked medical students, who, unable to pass their examination
in allopathy or homeopathy, took to the woods.

Ashland, as I have already stated, is eighteen " country "
miles from Hunter, and the drive is one of the pleasantest in
the Catskills. The fields slope away from the road, and then
rise again up the sides of the mountains. They have as many
shades of green in them as there are in the constantly changing

BILL SNYDER'S HOUSE. (AN OLD LANDMARK.)

waters of a southern sea. Ashland itself is mostly a reminis-
cence. It was a busy town once long, long ago. Besides
boasting several tanneries, it was the stopping-place for team-
sters drawing hides from Delhi to Catskill village. Now many
of the houses have fallen into ruins, its large, hotel or road-

OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS. [June,

house is drooping, and Ashland has that lonesome look of
towns out West to which the railroad did not come.

The Catholic church is just outside the village. It is small,
and so hidden by bushes that one might easily pass it by
unseen, though it stands very near to the turnpike. The fence
in front of it has partly fallen. Here and there a board from
which the rusted nails are dropping is lovingly bound around
by a wild vine. A large pine-tree grows inside the fence.
When the door of the church was opened it was the first time
in a year the skeleton of a squirrel lay on the threshold. The
rector told us that some years back the robins had come in
through an opening in the window, and had built a nest on the
altar, and that when he found the nest it was full of little
birds. It is an old legend that the robins covered with leaves
and flowers the bodies of the unburied dead. Robert Herrick,
in a little poem to " Amarillis," has an allusion to it. He pic-
tures a lady falling asleep, and a robin red-breast, thinking she
is dead, brings leaves and moss to cover her. W T hen Amarillis
moves, the poor robin, discovering his blunder, flies away
glad, however, that he is mistaken.

"And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved,
He chirped for joy, to see himself deceived."

Webster, one of the early dramatists, also makes mention of
this legend :

"Call for the robin red-breast and the wren,
Since o'er the shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men."

It would seem, then, not a whit audacious on the part of the
robin, but its ancient privilege, to build its dwelling on the
altar of an old church that stands near by a country grave-
yard.

But what a poetic thing a little deserted church is ! To
think that so many years ago it was made sacred by the Holy
Sacrifice. That the shadows of the sanctuary lamp fell softly,
night after night, on its white walls. That the spring and sum-
mer breezes brought the incense of the flowers to its altar,
when the ceremonial incense had ceased to fill its sanctuary.
Autumn after autumn it has been decked by red and golden

I895-]

AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CA TSKILLS.

leaves, and many a winter it has stood snow-covered and
neglected. Within its walls the village choir sang hymns of
praise while the faithful, like St. Cecilia of old, were singing in
their hearts. There were, no doubt, harsh notes in the music,
and heart songs of prayer sometimes distracted, but the angel
who carried these hymns to God must surely have corrected
their imperfections and tuned their dissonances.

The grave-yard by the side of the church is small but well
filled. The needles of the pine-tree near the fence, clashing to-
gether in the mountain breezes, sing a ceaseless requiem. It

KAATERSKILL FALLS.

would seem that this tree had caught up all the wailings and
sobbings of friends for their dead and had made of them a
threnody of its own. Over the graves the flowers run riot. In
June and July the roses grow abundantly, and when they have
shed their sweetness on the dead, the orange-lilies take their
place and cheat one into the belief that tender hands have
planted them there but a little while ago. The moss grows
into the cutting on the monuments, so that it is only with diffi-
culty that one can read the inscriptions. A marble stone stands
over the grave of a little boy who was drowned when but six
years of age. Under the announcement of his death, which

316 AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS. [June,

took place in the year 1849, there is this crude but touching
verse :

" Let this polished marble tell

That I into the water fell ;

Drowned was, and here I lie,

Never more to heave a sigh."

Not far away from the grave-yard a creek runs, and likely it is
that the little fellow was drowned in its shallow water.

On another tombstone, after we had cleared away the wild
flowers and scraped the moss out of the letters, we read :

" This lovely bud, so young and fair,

Called hence by early doom,
Just came to show how sweet a flower
In Paradise would bloom."

Still another stone bore this rough attempt at poetry. I give
it as it was cut in the monument and punctuated :

" Dear father, we have not forgot you

Yet, although you are numbered with the dead ;
We do the last kind act we

Can, by placing this at your head."

There is not the ring of poetry in that verse, but it has the
ring of filial love.

About the middle of the grave-yard, surrounded by old mon-
uments, there stands a new tombstone with which a story is con-
nected. Several years ago the rector of Hunter said Mass in
the little church for the sake of three or four Catholics who
were there at the time. After the Mass was finished he placed
in his pyx two sacred particles, and went down the road to give
Holy Communion to two invalids. By some mistake one of
them had broken his fast, and therefore could not receive the
blessed Eucharist, which the priest then prepared to bring back
to the church in Hunter. Just as he was leaving the house of
the sick man a young lad came to the door to tell him that
his father was very ill, and hearing that a priest was in the
village, wanted to see him. Going to the old man's home,
the rector found him in great danger, and having anointed
him, gave him the consecrated Host which he had intended for
the other, who, luckily, had broken his fast. In a short time the

1 895.] AN OLD CHURCH IN THE CATSKILLS. 317

old man died, and it is on his grave that the new monument has
been erected.

Possibly no others will be buried in the cemetery of St.
Henry's. The Catholics who lived in Ashland have moved away
to distant villages and cities, and their dead will be laid else-
where. No kind friend will come to tend the graves. The
stones will fall and be overgrown with moss and wild flowers,
and haply, too, the old church will be tumbled down by weight
of snow and wintry winds. Be this as it may, there is always
for Catholics one consolation. We may sometimes neglect our
cemeteries, but it is not our sin to neglect our dead. These
graves may be covered with rank grass and weeds, the cemetery
itself be obliterated ; but the dead will be remembered, perhaps
even to the third and the fourth generation.

James Russell Lowell, in his Fireside Travels, says that the
Catholic Church " is the only poet among the churches." I take
that as a great compliment. Poetry runs through the church
like blood through a man's veins. When her dead are laid away
in the mould she still follows them by prayer, not willing to
rest until she has placed them before the great white throne of
God. This it is that gives the touch of poetry to that little
deserted grave-yard on the hillside at Ashland.

" Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
Et lux perpetua luceat eis."

318 AN UNSELFISH WOMAN. [June,

AN UNSELFISH WOMAN.

BY M. K.

" 'Tis only noble to be good,
Kind hearts are more than coronets
And simple faith than Norman blood."

EW in the higher walks of life have portrayed in
themselves these admirable lines of Tennyson as
did the celebrated Madame de Maintenon, the
wife of Louis XIV., and that at a dissolute
court, surrounded by temptations and exposed
to dangers before which even consummate virtue had often fal-
len victim. Hers must have been a character exceedingly
gifted by nature and grace, blended with rare prudence and a
remarkable genius, to have made and kept her place in the
" upper sanctuary " of the heart of so egotistical and self-loving
a prince as was the grand monarch. He indeed " reigned
everywhere, over his people, over his age, often over Europe " ;
but Madame de Maintenon reigned over him, and that by the
qualities of her mind and heart. Scandalizing his court by the
amours and irregularities of his life, and resisting the stern and
repeated remonstrances of Bossuet, it was reserved for Madame
Scarron de Maintenon to be his good angel ; and wisely did
she use her influence to lead him to better things.

Employed by Madame de Montespan as the governess of
her children, she devoted herself to them so entirely and with
such good sense that the king was attracted by her correct and
shrewd judgment and tender affection for her little charge.
" She can love," he said ; " it would be a pleasure to be loved
by her." It was at his request that she took the title of Main-
tenon estates she had lately purchased. One day amusing
himself with the little Duke of Maine, who made him such quaint
replies, he called him a "sensible little fellow." " I can't help be-
ing so," said the child ; " I have by me a lady who is sense itself."
At that time the position of Madame de Maintenon was far
from pleasant, and she seriously thought of retiring from the
-court. She wrote to her confessor in 1675 : " I will not say
that it is to serve God that I should like to leave where I am ;
I believe that I can serve him and work out my salvation here
and elsewhere ; but I see nothing to forbid us from thinking of
.our repose and withdrawing from a position that vexes us at

1895-] AH UNSELFISH WOMAN. 319

every moment." But she remained, and succeeded in bringing
back the court and the king to the path of virtue, proving the
truth of her own expression: "There is nothing so powerful as
irreproachable conduct."

The frequent conversations of the king with a character so
elevated began to bear fruit at once in his impro/ed conduct to
his neglected queen, who, filled with gratitude towards the
noble-minded favorite, lavished every kindness upon her. Eight
years later this gentle and pious queen died. Eighteen months
later the king's private marriage with Madame de Maintenon
took place in the king's chapel, and the ceremony was per-
formed by Bossuet himself.

The king was forty-seven and Madame de Maintenon was
fifty. The Duke of Saint-Simon says of her that at this time
"she had great remains of beauty, bright and sprightly eyes ;
an incomparable grace, an air of ease, and yet of restraint and
respect ; a great deal of cleverness, with a speech that was
sweet, correct, in good terms, and naturally eloquent and brief."
" Others in time past," says Guizot, " held sway over the young
and passionate heart of the prince, but Madame de Maintenon
alone established her empire over the man and the king."

Amidst the adulations of the royal family and the court
Madame de Maintenon never lost her head, or forgot that she
had risen from the ranks ; and in spite of the deference paid to
her opinion and judgment by the king, she never offered it
unsolicited. In affairs the most serious that were discussed by
the king and his ministers in her presence she remained
modestly silent and discreet, and when the subject would as-
sume an embarrassing aspect, the king would turn to the
madame and ask : " What does your Solidity think ? " Her
replies were always brief and to the point, and her views gener-
ally adopted. The occasions she had of rendering services to
others were continual, and it may be truly said that she lived
entirely for others, and her charities were unbounded ; the
convent of St. Cyr, which she founded and endowed, is a nota-
ble instance of her many good works. It was an establishment
for poor young girls nobly born, with whom she knew so
well how to sympathize from her own experience. Sometimes
she would steal away from court to seclude herself with these
children, teaching them how to love and serve God.

" I have never passed a more agreeable winter," she said on
one occasion, " than that one during which I spent a few days
in a stable between two cows with all these children around me
plying their distaffs."

320 AN UNSELFISH WOMAN. [June,

The secret of her influence we may say was her unselfishness,
and in her devotion to the king and his family her life was a
" veritable slavery." She herself said to a lady of St. Cyr : " I
have to take for my prayers and Mass the time when every one
else is asleep ; for when once they begin coming in my room,
at half-past seven, I haven't another moment to myself. They
come filing in and nobody goes out without being relieved by
somebody higher. At last comes the king; then of course they
all have to go out ; he remains with me up to Mass. I am
still in my night-cap. The king comes back after Mass.

" The Duchess of Burgundy and her ladies arrive ; they re-
main whilst I dine. I have to keep up the conversation, which
flags every moment, and to manage so as to harmonize minds
and reconcile hearts which are as far as possible asunder. The
circle is all around me, and I cannot ask for anything to drink.
I sometimes say to them (aside) : ' It is a great honor, but
' really I should prefer a footman.' At last they all go away
to dine. I should be free at that time if Monseigneur the
dauphin did not generally choose it for coming to see me.
He often dines earlier in order to go hunting. He is very dif-
ficult to entertain, having very little to say, and knowing him-
self a bore, and running away from himself continually ; so I
have to talk for two. Immediately after the king has dined he
comes into my room with all the royal family, princes and
princesses ; then I must be prepared for the gayest of conver-
sations, and wear a smiling face amidst so much distressing
news. When this company disperses, some lady has always
something particular to say to me. The Duchess of Burgundy
also wants to have a chat. The king returns from hunting. He
comes to me. The door is shut and nobody admitted. Then I
have to share his secret troubles, which are no small number.
Arrives a minister, and the king sets himself to work. If I am
not wanted at this consultation, which seldom happens, I with-
draw to some further distance and write or pray. I sup while
the king is still at work. I am restless whether the king is
alone or not. The king says to me : ' You are tired, madame ;
go to bed.' My women come. But I feel that they interfere
with the king, who would chat with me, and who does not like
to chat before them ; or perhaps there are some ministers still
there whom he is afraid they may overhear. Wherefore I make
haste to undress so much so that I often feel quite ill from it.
At last I am in bed. The king comes up and remains by my
pillow until he goes to supper. A quarter of an hour before
supper the dauphin and Duke and Duchess of Burgundy come

i8 9 S.]

AN UNSELFISH WOMAN.

321

to me again. At ten everybody goes out. At last I am alone,
but very often the fatigues of the day prevent me from
sleeping."

What heroic abnegation even in the minutest details of this
noble life ! Prayer, the Sacraments, and an habitual mortifica-
tion alone enabled her to persevere in such a life during the
long space of thirty years. No woman ever received more re-
spect, affection, and such entire confidence as Louis XIV. lav-
ished all those years upon one who might have been queen had
she desired it, but was content to be wife. Madame de Main-
tenon sought to reign over hearts alone.

Only circumstances and a desire to serve the king ever in-
duced Madame de Maintenon to exert her influence outside of
the court of France. Fenelon remonstrated with her that she
did not mingle more in affairs, knowing that good alone would
result from her wise and prudent counsels. But all Europe
sought her mediation, knowing her unbounded influence over
the king, which she exercised on all occasions with the rare tact
and discernment which characterized all she did. She was truly
the angel of the king up to the last moment of his life, and
even then forgetful of herself and her own interests. When the
dying king said to her : " What consoles me for leaving you is
that it will not be long before we meet again," she made no
reply. " What will become of you ? You have nothing." " Do
not think of me," she said, "I am nobody; think only of God."

She had given away in charity and friendship all she had ;
but she had provided well for herself in establishing the convent
of Cyr, which now afforded her an assured and honorable asy-
lum for the three years that she survived the king. Here her
last days were spent in tranquillity and prayer, and here Peter
the Great visited her when in Paris, curious to see la grande
femme. She was in bed and obliged to use an ear-trumpet, and
when he asked her disease, by means of an interpreter, as he
could not speak French, she smilingly answered : " A great
age." He looked at her a long time in silence, and drawing
the curtains of the bed, abruptly retired.

In peace and prayer, surrounded by the Ladies of St. Louis,
who owed all to her, Madame de Maintenon passed away at
the advanced age of eighty-three, without a parallel in history,
a woman truly great in mind, heart, and virtue, but one who,
in spite of her unsought-for elevation, never forgot her origin.
" I am not a grandee, but a mushroom," she sometimes said-
she who was in every way a " queen by right divine."
VOL. LXI. 21

322 ^ Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. [June,

CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS.

BY M. MURRAY-WILSON.

OW cheery and bright looked the library with its
glowing bed of coals in the grate ! What a con-
trast to the snow-covered, bare branches of the

trees in W Square opposite ! Fred Purcell

selected a book at random he did not wish to
read and stretched himself at full length on a lounge between
the fireplace and the windows. He was but nineteen, yet man-
ly-looking, a model for Antinous, with brow more noble and
eyes suggesting a greater soul than that youth of beauty. He
had come from the parlor below, where there was an incipient
comedy or tragedy that irritated him. He had left the
room, but still thought of the tableaux, and a flush of annoy-
ance arose to his brow, while his dark eyes kindled. His cousin
Edna cousin in a distant degree was there eagerly hanging
on the words and smiles of a man he hated with good reason
Firman Blake a man well known for his dangerously fascinat-
ing manner with both men and women. But Fred's unerring
boy's instinct, with a keenness of insight into character due to
a naturally truthful nature, as yet unwarped and unbiased by
the world and its dissipations, saw into the man's soul and
hated him. He had discovered accidentally that there was a
deserted wife, from whom he claimed to be divorced, but there
had been no divorce granted. He knew also that Blake made
a pastime of trifling with women and that Edna was in danger
of becoming the latest victim. He might care for her he
seemed to but that made the danger greater. If it were possi-
ble to make him leave the house !

They were in a Bohemian boarding-house. Edna, an orphan,
with an income sufficient for her temperate wants, a young
woman of rare abilities, was studying sculpture at Insti-
tute.

Fred was dabbling in the painter's art, although he had
formed no definite intention as to a profession in life. He, too,
was an orphan, and he had more fortune than Edna. Though
not yet of age, his guardian was lenient and could generally
be managed very easily. Fred could afford to look about

1895.] Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. ..-* ,=.,323

*'-V'*" '*'*-?*
awhile before making up his mind. His mind wa$* f&f an.

ordinary one ; he loved books, had undeveloped powers of
oratory; had thought vaguely of the law for a prof^sjsiorii ' He
loved the arts, and dreamed occasionally of becoming famous
as a painter; he loved music, became ardent in the study of it
sometimes, wondering if the future might not hold an American
Liszt. Lately he had discovered that he loved Edna ; and had
wondered if it might be possible to win her.

They were playmates in childhood comrades in after years
when she, a romping girl of seventeen, still clinging to short
skirts, went for a long ramble with him, a sturdy boy of
thirteen home for the holidays. Then they had grown some-
what apart for a few years, and now are together again, but
how widely separated by Firman Blake ! She does not dream
of the boy's passion ; she has not even noticed anything pecu-
liar in his manner of late. Firman Blake fills her thoughts,
obscures her vision, stifles the cries of her better nature.

She was educated in a convent school, but religion could
not take firm root in her heart at least it has not so far.
Ambition ruled, and the world seemed too fair to resist. Now
even ambition is dethroned for awhile by the superior strength
of a first passion. She doesn't know this. Blake has been
cautious ; he has interested himself in her studies, in her tastes,
her aspirations ; he has made his conquest certain before declar-
ing his intentions. But two days ago Fred noticed an unusual
look of satisfied pride in his face ; a deeper glow of passion in
her eyes ; and had found the opportunity to speak to her alone,
and throw out some hints as to Blake's real character. How
angry she had been ! She refused to hear one word, and when
he told her the man was not free to marry she looked so pain-
fully startled that Fred knew she loved deeply, and his pain
was twofold because of his own hopeless passion and the
knowledge that she was bound to suffer. In an instant she had
recovered from the shock he had given her, and valiantly
defended the accused man, declaring she would believe nothing
against him but what he should himself confess.

Now, down-stairs, they are together, where Fred has left
them, not the shadow of a cloud between them apparently, he
talking to her in that deep, enthralling voice of his, she listen-
ing, delighted, gazing into his face with defiant trust. She has
not even asked him if what Fred told her is true. No, she
will not even think of it again.

Hark ! The banging of the street door ! Fred went to the

324 Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. [June,

window, and saw Blake walking rapidly away from the house.
Fred's heart gave a bound. Edna was alone. Would she go to
the institute ? No ; he knew she did not intend to go that day.
Dare he go to her and try to be friends with her again ?

There were several inches of crisp snow on the ground.
Would the suggestion of a sleigh-ride tempt her ? He stood
looking out of the window, undecided, picturing her face when
he should ask her to go. A scornful refusal ? a haughty re-
proach ? Or would she grow angry again and lash him with
bitter words ? He could not make up his mind to go to her.
He picked up the book he had thrown aside and forced him-
self to read.

Presently his ear caught the sound of light footsteps ascend-
ing the stairs toward the library. Would Edna enter ? Then
he would ask her to go. He listened nervously. The sound
died away. Edna had passed and gone to her room.

Again he wondered if she would receive him kindly, but
came to no satisfactory conclusion. Half an hour later as he
stood at the window, still uncertain, he was surprised to see
the subject of his musings cross the street from the house and
walk away at a brisk pace out B - Avenue.

In a very short while he too went out, taking the same
direction, but Edna had distanced him so far that he could not
distinguish her from other pedestrians, or she had perhaps
turned into another street.

He had meant to overtake her; but now he listlessly gave
up the notion, and with a toss of his head he resolyed to give
his mind to more amusing things for the moment at least.
Besides, the exercise of walking in the crisp refreshing air
sent a thrill of pleasure through him, his color heightened and
fancy began to entertain him with suggestions as to the people
he met.

He had walked a considerable distance aimlessly, when his
attention was arrested by the sound of organ-music and choir-
singing. He paused, looking at the building, and recognized a
Catholic church. Twas evidently High Mass, but the day was
Saturday not Sunday. He always attended Mass on Sundays,
though it was rather as following a habit, and his attention was
not always strict. He began to think whether or not it might
be a festival, and then recognition flashed upon him. It was
the eighth of December. He entered the church and knelt in
one of the lower pews.

The Forty Hours' Devotion was beginning. The altar was

1895.] Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. 325

magnificent with the blaze of innumerable candles and laden
with ferns and creamy floral tributes, while at its highest point,
prepared as a setting for .the ostensorium, were branching rays
of gold illumined by jets of light. The church was thronged.
Listlessly Fred remained. The music was fine and the choir one
of excellence. His senses were pleased and troublesome thoughts
lulled to rest. As the ceremony of love, gratitude, and adora-
tion proceeded was not his heart touched ? Did not his care-
less, pleasure-seeking nature feel a faint awakening stir of his
long-slumbering conscience ?

The Mass has not far progressed that is the Gospel being
sung. Now the pulpit is rolled in place; the gentle prelate,
his face thoughtful and serene, his eyes shining with the pure
flame of love of God, kneels before the altar, and from the
choir is heard the thrilling strains : " Veni, Sancte Spiritus ! "

Oh, that sermon ! Not an eloquent, intellectual discourse, al-
though showing the cultured mind of the speaker. Just the
tender appeal of a loving father and spiritual guide ; an exhorta-
tion to the practice of love and duty ; an appeal to the heart,
so stirring, so earnest, so penetrating that those who wished to
remain unmoved would fain go out from the church, away from
that pleading voice, from the glance of those pure spiritual eyes,
the powerftil, encompassing magnetism of every look, tone, and
gesture of the inspired exhorter.

The uplifted faces of the listening multitude glowed with en-
thusiasm ; many an eye grew moist at the close of that far too
brief sermon, of which every word sank deep into the heart,
never to be forgotten never, though the heart travel far, far
away from the reach of further admonition, though the con-
science be drugged into a dreamless sleep, and the heart be
filled with busy, crowding, jostling thoughts of worldly ambition,
avarice, and power deep down in the inmost recesses will those
words lie buried ; but they will speak again and again, echo and
re-echo, though hushed, drowned by the cries of the mart and
the stock exchange, the din of wild revelry, the impatient voice
of passion ; sometimes, above all this, or when deserted by suc-
cess and the revellers of prosperous days without wealth, with-
out love, without hope then, like the angel whisper of a faith-
ful friend to the forsaken criminal, will not the far off echo of
that voice be heard again, and the dull, leaden heart to memory
thrill once more?

It will recoil in shame and despair as from the tender touch
of a cruelly neglected friend, and try to offset its sense of in-

326 Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. [June,

gratitude by foolish pride of resistance ; but the sweet, serene
voice will not be hushed again until the proud man's head is
bowed in penitent prayer, and contrite tears refresh his thirsting
soul.

Ah, me ! What supreme emotions during that Mass the
consecration ! the elevation ! God seemed to lay his hands upon
the bowed heads and breathe soft incense upon them. Ah, the
music of that " Agnus Dei " ! How rapturous !

The procession of the children, the bright eyes of the tiny
boys, the demure faces of the white-veiled girls, the long train
of acolytes, the priests, the loved prelate who had preached the
sermon. The Host is raised aloft, and from the choir the " Tan-
turn Ergo " in such a glorious burst of devotional music it seemed
the very hearts of the singers dissolved in melody, and the lis-
teners were borne upwards on a mighty wave of sacred song,
breathing the consecrated incense of praise and prayer.

Edna was one of the kneeling throng. When Blake left the
house she grew restless, and as her nature would not endure the
inactive, dreamy melancholy that steals upon one unawares in
the absence of an object of passion, she donned a walking cos-
tume and went for a brisk, enlivening promenade in the refresh-
ing frosty air. But she did not find the mental rest she uncon-
sciously looked for. Her thoughts were troubled in spite of her
resolve not to pay any attention to what her cousin had told
her of Blake. Unbidden the thought recurred again and again :
" Is Firman deceiving me ? "

Then she smiled, continuing: "Why, I've only to ask him
to have my doubt dispelled.

" Doubt ! Shame ! I do not doubt him. My love is not so
mean a thing. Of course he is divorced, since he has said so.
But he has not said so to me ! It is merely the impression in
the house. Still it would be dishonest, treacherous for him to
speak of love to me if he were not free."

" Free ! " whispered conscience. " Is a man or woman free
even when divorced ? Dare you, a Catholic even though a poor
one marry a divorced man ? "

Edna's heart contracted. She was since her school-days not
much better than a nominal Catholic. True, she attended Mass
on Sundays, but it was as much from habit as duty, and she
had followed the promptings of her own sweet will chiefly. Yet
her will had not run in dangerous channels until she met Firman
Blake, a man altogether unworthy of her, even if he had had no
wife living.

1895-] Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. 327

" No matter," she argued with the still small voice, " I need
not marry him, but I may love him with all my heart. There
is no harm in that."

"But he?"

" I will make him see as I do, that his love the knowledge
that I have it is sufficient for my happiness, and that he too
must be content to know I love him fervently."

" But the world ? "

" I care not for the world."

" Ah, take care ! Such expressions are dangerous. You must
care for the world. Christ died to redeem it. You must guard
your actions to avoid scandalizing your world. You, a convent-
bred girl : much has been given you ; much will be expected
of you."

" But my heart is pure. I love ; that is natural. I renounce
marriage for the sake of my love. I deny myself all but the
spiritual realization of it."

" Do you, quite ? "

Edna's breath came faster during a brief hurried mental
review of her conduct since she had known her lover.

" How you hang upon his words ! " said conscience. " Your
eyes devour him, your hand lingers in his. Once when he
declared his love for you and since then too your lips "

" Ah ! " Edna blushed painfully.

" Is this right ? Are you not a traitor to his wife ? "

"He is divorced."

" The church recognizes no divorce."

" The church does not permit the divorcee to marry again.
I know that. But"

"You are unmaidenly."

" Ah ! "

The church music fell upon her ear and held her attention,

" What is it ? "

" The Feast of the Immaculate Conception," prompted the
inner voice.

Absently, she went in. The sexton courteously found her a
place near the altar. The church being crowded, Fred could
not see her when he entered later. Neither did Edna dream
that Fred was in the church. She experienced a sense of rest
at first. The struggle between her and conscience ceased for
awhile. She put aside tormenting thoughts, recognizing the
presence of God as soon as she entered the church, although
no penetrating light of true self-knowledge had yet entered her

328 Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. [June,

soul. She bowed her head in adoration. The music thrilled
her and the whole service filled her with emotion, and during
the sermon her bright eyes, riveted on the preacher, filled with
tears.

As the Blessed Sacrament was borne aloft during the pro-
cession of priests, acolytes, boys and girls from the school, a
wave of memory swept over her and she hid her face in her
hands.

Ah, yes ! she had often joined in such processions, strewing
flowers before the Blessed Sacrament.

She wept, she accused herself of lack of zeal in the practice
of her religion, arid determined to attend to her duties soon.
But emotion is unreliable ; when the cause of it departs, the
effect is not always what we supposed it would be. Edna's
emotion was short-lived, but she was honest at the time her
resolution was made. She prayed fervently during Mass, but
she did not acknowledge or recognize her weakness, and there-
fore did not pray for what she needed most light to guide
her in self-knowledge and strength to resist temptation.

She was unconscious of her great pride. Her very prayers
breathed pride. She was contrite, she thought ; she blamed
herself harshly for not loving God more, and resolved to cor-
rect this. The truth did not occur to her, that the most
acceptable petition would be that grace be given her to love,
that her nature be lifted up to that height, her soul be en-
nobled, while humility clothed her as a garment.

Poor Edna knew very little of life, notwithstanding her
boasted freedom of opinion and action, her Bohemian tenden-
cies, her ambition to become a great artist. Her life so far
knew but sins of omission, because the temptation in her path
had not been such as to attract her. Firman Blake's passion
was the first temptation powerful enough to enthrall her. And
this was the only point on which she censured herself yet
little enough on it. It was not with regard to him she took
herself to task in church. It was as though she kept that mat-
ter a secret from God. Poor Edna !

As^ that church was very far from her boarding-house, she
caught at the excuse not to try to gain the indulgence of the
Forty Hours by going to confession that day. She went out
of the church with the multitude, passing unnoticed the kneel-
ing Fred Purcell, whose head was bowed low upon his arms,
his whole figure in the dark corner of a lower pew, motionless
as in a trance.

1 89 5.] Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. 329

For Fred was passing through a fiery ordeal that those who
saw him did not dream of.

Fred remained long kneeling, wrestling with a sudden
resolve. He did not flatter himself by thinking he had received
a miraculous manifestation of the will of God in relation to
himself. As he knelt there, deep in thought and self-examina-
tion, he realized that various events in his life tended to where
he had just halted convinced. His early training, his education,
even the indulgences to which his financial means had given
him access and which so soon palled upon his fastidious taste,
his lack of constancy in any occupation he had taken up, his
continual search for something to satisfy his nature, something
into which he could throw his soul all these he realized during
the Mass but tended to lead him to a final conclusion to a
recognition of his vocation, and with some pardonable pride
he felt, too, that he would be a valuable acquisition to the
priesthood in an intellectual way, because of his powers of ora-
tory and his personal magnetism. Besides, he felt that his very
passion for his cousin had led him to his true vocation by pre-
venting any love for another woman. He knew that she would
never have married him so much younger than she even
though Firman Blake had not intervened. Nevertheless he
found the battle with himself hard to fight because the world
held out its arms to him alluringly ; he. was young, and though
some pleasures had palled upon him, there were many yet
untried, and many that he knew and had not wearied of.

But he conquered. He would not go home. He went out
for awhile and walked a considerable distance, returning in the
afternoon at the time confessions were heard. After his con-
fession he visited the prelate whose sermon he had heard at
Mass, opening his heart to the dear old man, and receiving the
advice and encouragement so much needed.

He was counselled to go into retreat for a few days for
further reflection, and made up his mind at once to go to

G: College, a Jesuit institution, where he had been educated.

He would not trust himself in Edna's presence again. She
would have received him kindly ; but he did not guess that, not
knowing that in her heart also a struggle had taken place that day.

He knew that he would be welcome at the college, so he
despatched a brief note there saying he would visit them. He
went to his boarding-house late, and told the hostess he would
go away for some days although he never intended to return
and left early in the morning, taking the train for M .

330 Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. [June,

Edna appeared at breakfast, pale and unlike herself. She
had received a note the previous evening from Blake telling her
that business detained him and he would not be at the house
until too late to see her. She was almost thankful then ; but
the morning brought a longing for his presence, and she ex-
pected to meet him as usual at the breakfast-table. He was not
there. She also wondered that her cousin was not there, and
asked the waitress about him.

" He went away early this morning, miss."

" Ah ! " She was surprised, but supposed it to be one of
his caprices.

Later, as she was going up to her room, the servant brought
her a note which a messenger had just left. She recognized
Fred's handwriting and hastened to her room to read it. It was
as follows :

" DEAR EDNA : When you receive this I shall be on my way

to my old college at M , where I am going in retreat ; and

I hope during the time given to meditation and prayer to re-
ceive a confirmation of what seemed to me yesterday, as I knelt
in the cathedral during the Forty Hours' Devotion, a peremp-
tory call to the priesthood. I believe I have discovered my vo-
cation at last. Pray for me. FRED."

That was all. He had pondered for a long time before clos-
ing, wondering whether to explain to her, to exhort her to be
more practical in religion, to give up Firman Blake. He was
strongly inclined to urge her to remember what he had said to
her about that man ; in fact he wrote a long letter on the sub-
ject, then he destroyed it, saying wearily: "I. will leave her to
God, and pray for her. I am not fit to counsel any one. I
must gain strength myself."

Edna read and re-read the short note, scarcely understanding
what it contained. At last she grasped its full meaning, and
smiled incredulously, saying to herself : " It is a whim. He will
change his mind before his retreat is ended."

Then, " So he, too, was in that church. Strange. And found
his vocation there so he thinks. I wonder if it is really true
if he will really be a priest ? He might have said good-by to
me. The last conversation we had together we quarrelled about
Firman Blake. Ah me ! if I only knew what to do."

She clasped her hands above her head, and gazed out over
the clear landscape of the park, while tears gathered in her eyes.

1895.] Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. 331

She was strangely unnerved and anxious. Her cousin and her
lover remained persistently in her thoughts, and troubled her.
Again and again she repeated Fred's warning against the other,
and her faith in Blake began to waver and grow exceedingly
timid. Then she scorned herself for her want of steadfastness
in love, and finally she fell to a kneeling posture near the win-
dow and dropped her head upon her hands.

Without her volition memory began to play with her merci-
lessly. All her life passed in review before her and she wept
in more humility, perhaps, than she had ever known, crying out
at last from her inmost heart : " God, I have been wilfully blind
to my duty. Forgive me. Teach me to love Thee and help
me to self-conquest."

Almost at the same moment as she prayed thus an over-
whelming wave of passionate longing to see her lover swept
over her, and she exclaimed in agony : " If I must give up Fir-
man Blake, God, take him from me. I have not the strength.
My love masters me."

She knelt for awhile motionless ; then arose, bathed her
face and began to dress to go to the institute for the art class.

Ere long there was a knock at her door. Edna opened it a
little without showing herself, and recognizing the voice of her
hostess, she said, "I'm dressing. What is it?"

" Oh ! nothing of importance just now. I wanted to ask if
you had read the morning paper."

" No," answered Edna in surprise.

" Ah ! Then you don't know the startling news. Here's the
paper."

" What is it ? " asked the girl, as she put forth her bare arm
and took the paper.

The hostess answered in a low voice, " Mr. Blake has been
arrested for forgery." She heard a faint gasping sound from
Edna as she moved away, and then the door closed.

Edna did not faint. With aching heart she read the full dis-
graceful particulars. The paper fell from her nerveless hands,
and she pressed her brow to still the throbbing of her temples.
The pain was very bitter ; yet she felt that new moral strength
had suddenly come to her, and that God had indeed answered
her prayer, to take Firman Blake out of her life.

Five years later. Justice was not cheated of its due in the
case of Firman Blake. He is in the penitentiary atoning for
his crimes, in the flesh if not in the spirit. Of all who formerly

332 Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS. [June,

knew him there is only one, perhaps, who still remembers him,
and she does not cherish the memory. Edna's desire is to ban-
ish that period altogether from her thoughts. Speaking of the
instability of girlhood's passion, on one occasion, to her bosom
friend, she said :

"I know. I've experienced it; and although at' the time I
believed no one ever loved more deeply than I, and it took a
great shock to restore me to common sense, I have since looked
back often and often, wondering how it all happened.

" It is the degrading folly of the affair which stings more
keenly than if it had been crime."

But that very shame, the memory of which she longs to lose,
has helped to develop Edna's character as nothing else would
have done. It taught her self-knowledge and humility ; brought
her in penitence to the foot of the cross, and made an honest,
practical Catholic of her.

She then threw her heart into her studies and finally gained
prominence at the art institute. Now she is adding to her in-
come the proceeds from the lessons she gives at the various
schoo-ls in drawing, painting, clay modelling, etc. he is with-
out genius. She boards with a private family who have a de-
lightful home just beyond the city limits, reached easily by the
electric cars, and her hostess is exceedingly fond of her. Edna's
circle of friends is large and well selected. Her mind now seeks
its own level and there are brilliant intellects to be found among
her friends.

She will marry, of course, some day, and shine as the queen
of a refined and cultured home. In love ? Well, perhaps not
yet. She herself is not certain about it. She likes more than
one admirer very well, and one a little better than the rest.
He may be the elect. He is quite handsome, and manly enough
to please a woman ; his attention is wished for by some fair
ones who cannot get it. He is to accompany Edna to the
cathedral to-day, for it is Sunday ; and a young priest a stran-
ger in the city yet already celebrated for his brilliant oratory,
is to preach at High Mass.

It is a beautiful day, the Sunday after Easter, the season
of alleluias. Fragrance of lilies fills the church. The grand
ceremony of High Mass proceeds. There is a note of jubilation
in the music. Renewed joy in life quickens the pulses of the
multitude listening to the " Gloria," their beating hearts uplifted
in prayer of praise and thanksgiving rather than petition.

The Gospel ends. There is a kneeling figure before the al-

I895-]

Two CAPTIVATING PRODIGALS.

333

tar. The clarion voice of the baritone in the choir bursts into
music : " Veni, Sancte Spiritus."

The young priest ascends the steps of the pulpit, and gazes
on the people before him. He is very young. All eyes are
riveted upon him the tall, youthful but manly form, graceful
bearing, noble poise of the head. What a beautiful face ! The
brow denotes genius surely. Those glorious eyes evidence a soul
of rare depth and strength.

He begins to preach. What music, what power in the voice !
A modern Chrysostom !

These are the thoughts of the people, and the sermon itself
realized their expectations, as words of beauty and holiness and
wisdom were uttered in resonant tones.

It is the same church where Fred learned his vocation for
the priesthood and Edna's restoration to piety began. The
young priest is emotional and somewhat overcome towards the
end of the sermon, as memories crowd upon him without his
volition, and people attribute it to a little timidity natural to
youth, and agree that it detracts nothing from their enjoyment.
But he is not at all timid, and had they known him as Edna
did, they would have understood.

When Mass was finished she turned to her companion, as
they left the church, saying, " That is my cousin, Fred Purcell."

Of course it was not a surprise to her. She had often seen
Fred during his seminary course ; he loved her as a sister ; there
was none of the old passion left, although he never blushed at
the memory of it, as Edna did when thinking of Blake.

Fred had not been ashamed of his boyish fervor; it was
honest while it lasted, and was supplanted, not by another
human passion, but by a devotion to higher purposes, the con-
secration of his heart, his life to God.

334 THE PENANCE OF GALAHAD. [June,

THE PENANCE OF GALAHAD.

BY LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY.

HINE own fair device is not about thee :

A Red Worm crawls on thy crest !
And whither wilt thou go, upon thy saddle-bow
So strange and so fearful a guest ?

"Thine own fair device I'll broider for thee,

On baldric and saddle-cloth fine,
And have thy branded shield by the cunning graver healed,

Thou holy one, last of our line ! "

" Let be. I have dreamed. O my sister,
Dreams pass with the dark and the wind ;

But beside me there awoke a memory that spoke
Aloud all the morn : ' Thou hast sinned ! '

" The thing caged within me that I knew not

Had burst from the temporal air :
By night I saw my soul, away from her control,

A horror at home in the lair.

" Account it no less than my demission !

I am I, whatsoever is wrought :
Lord where events begin, to rein mine action in,

And lord on the frontiers of thought.

"And weep not for me, awhile to carry

A symbol, though foul and extreme :
I wear a witness so, that the world and thou may know

I fell from myself in a dream.

" If white knights clouded on the wayside

Say low : ' There afar and infirm
Our Galahad doth pass ; the altar-rose, alas !

Is first of us all for the Worm ! '

" If Arthur at Camelot believe me

The possible lie that I am,
Pray only that I keep, made humble in a sleep,

Still whole in the sight of the Lamb ! "

i8 9 5.]

As You LIKE IT.

335

AS YOU LIKE IT.

BY HENRY AUSTIN ADAMS.

VI. HERE AND THERE IN CA THOLICISM.

RECENT article in this series of rambling thoughts
by the present writer has been honored by many
reprints, to say nothing of savage criticism of the
" I-think-you-are-horrid " kind.

The temper of my paper on the elastic ortho-
doxy of our Episcopalian friends was so devoid of rancor that
I can find no explanation for the resulting bitterness, unless in
the unpleasant plainness and hardness of my facts.

There is a penalty attached to all plain speaking. And
when one drops from theorizings upon meanness to the direct-
ness of " thou art the man," something inevitably happens :
David repents, or Nathan catches it ! In the recent case the
latter would seem to have been the result.

I regret to say that as yet no one has sent me either an
explanation or a denial of my too local and too stubborn facts.
I still more earnestly regret that from so many sides has come
the evidence of David's obtuse inability to see the point. I
thought my little parable rather telling, and purposely gave it
a local coloring, to the intent that all might verify by near-by
cases the soundness of the principles advanced. Alas ! Every-
body, it seems, knew all that I said before I said it, and the
present condition of my David's mind is shown by his compla-
cent, "What of it?" There I am, as it were, laboriously prov-
ing the obvious to those who admit it who glory in it !
Enough and perhaps too much of the matter.

The object of the present article is to show (to numerous
correspondents of whom I have hopes) that the go-as-you-please
principle runs far back to the very beginnings of the soul's
pitiful search for the light, if so be that the one certain ,voice
of infallible Truth has not reached it. And step by step the
individual even in early childhood not only may, but must,
choose amid a babel of conflicting teachings that which he likes !

To get away from generalities and unsupported statement
of the principles, it will perhaps be best to use the facts in the

336 As You LIKE IT. [June,

experience of the writer to make the point in view. Keeping
before the mind the fact that Christianity is a divine revelation,
and therefore an unchangeable deposit of truth, what shall be
said of the pathetic facts which constituted the experience of
one soul in its childish and unguided search for it ? Be it
remembered that the claim of our Episcopalian friends, as evi-
denced by their use of such terms as "a teaching church," "a
rule of faith," " authority in matters of doctrine," is that their
ministry and formularies are to the individual soul the unerring
guides to a just and true comprehension of the immutable
deposit of revealed religion. Theirs in respect of authority to
teach is exactly the same as the Catholic claim. Observe now
the practical condition and utter uncertainty of the individual.
It is not a theory which confronts those who in loneliness and
blundering strive to conform their own to the divine religion.

Experto Crede ! This is the history of one. When con-
sciousness of sin and God and the unseen first came to me, I
was a little chap in Baltimore, and doubtless very much like
any other boy.

I remember distinctly having perfectly vague leanings toward
the great solemn mystic Faith whose splendid temples were on
every hand. But nothing anywise approaching a determination
to become a Catholic occurred to me at that time. I was obe-
dient and affectionate. Those who were caring for me would
have considered any such event with genuine horror. I weakly
found myself repeating, or at the least not questioning, the
many ordinary lies told about Catholics. I was ashamed of my
own secret inclinations toward the church, and used (when very
pressed) to bolster up my shaky and Rome-hungry heart by
telling stories told to me of Catholic iniquities in Cuba.

But there I was. I must have a religion. Daily I was be-
coming more rapt in the religious life. My reading never
much controlled and a natural disposition to unwholesome
dreaming, united with the kind attempts of earnest Christian
souls to make me "serious."

I turned my little bed-room into an oratory much, I sup-
pose, as I had turned a band-box into a helmet with grim barred
visor. On week-days I was a mixture of monk and boy nine
parts monk and one part boy ; but on Sundays I was a hymn-
singing Sunday-school child of the common type, with a sly
taste for the Catholic crumbs somehow left over at the Refor-
mation.

I must pick out a church. We selected, after considerable

1 895.] As You LIKE IT. 337

discussion of the reverend pastors of twenty others, the Church
of the Ascension. I was in my earliest teens. I had already
chosen from many denominations one that suited me. And from
among the ministers of that one denomination I had under
protest selected a sort of compromise man. I then began to
analyze my teacher's teaching, and to compare him with his
own predecessors and his neighbor parsons. Then came the in-
effable call to me to "preach the Gospel." At first I was too
lost in wondering joy to dwell much on the anatomy, the struc-
ture, as it were, of that glad tidings of great joy which had
come to me, and which, by me, was to be made known to others.
Then came, as in a flood, a terrible revulsion of my old yearn-
ings for the Catholic Faith. I fought it as a black temptation
straight from the devil. An accident, as it then seemed, came
to my aid. We lived around the corner from St.~ Luke's, a
ritualistic church of (then) moderate type, whose rector was a
famous and most gifted teacher of the young. I was allowed
to go one Sunday afternoon to hear him.

I have forgotten what he said ; but I shall never in my life
forget the revelation of that service. It looked Catholic. A
dim, fine Gothic church ; lights gleaming from the fair white
altar ; soft, priestly intonation of the dear old collects ; long
line of white-robed choristers ; pictures of saints and virgins.
That was an epoch-marking evensong in St. Luke's, Baltimore,
to me. I came out a changed lad. Now I must once more
choose. I broke from the Ascension, and followed my new
guides. One day somebody told me that the former rector of
my dear St. Luke's had turned a papist (the Paulist Father
Baker) and I was made uncomfortable by it until I could for-
get it.

About that time the " Cowley Fathers " Anglican came to
preach a mission at Mount Calvary Church (formerly the church
of Bishop Curtis of Wilmington), and I made my way thither. I
found a much more Catholic church, a bolder teaching, and
such battle-words as " Confession," " Mass," " Ave Maria," etc.,
etc., used in a matter-of-course way which much distressed me.
Again I had to decide as between my rector and these visiting
" Fathers"; I chose the latter.

But it was not until the matter of choosing a seminary be-
came necessary that I myself began to feel the logical absurdity
of the whole situation. Think of it ! A lad of seventeen, prepar-
ing to become an authorized teacher of a church claiming to be
Catholic and Apostolic, was forced to select from half a dozen
VOL. LXI. 22

338 As You LIKE IT. [June,

seminaries all of them countenanced and supported by the
same church the one where he could be taught that kind of
religion for which he had a liking ! I know of no parallel to
this in ecclesiastical history.

My friends wanted me to go to Alexandria, Va., in the hope
that the evangelicalism in vogue there would " knock the Rom-
ish nonsense out of me." I went on a reconnoitring expedition :
the learner spying out the teachers ! I was disgusted and dis-
heartened. The chapel was a dirty neglected barn, with neither
altar nor chancel; a dingy meeting-house, in fact, where a ram-
pant Protestantism was in possession. My new-found " Fathers "
suggested the seminary at Nashota, but the distance of that
monastic-like school and the fears and tears of my friends de-
barred me.

Then there was that school of the ultra-Brahmins the neo-
evangelical, up-to-date German-rationalist school at Cambridge.
The " broads " were at that time manifesting a strength and
bid for popularity among the laity, and the filling of such posts
as Grace Church, New York, and the like, with shining lights
from that school of opinion gave a glamour to that seat of learn-
ing in which one might hope to be furnished with all possible
aids in getting around, or over, or under the difficulties of his
inherited religion.

But the Catholic taint in my blood was too deep, and I re-
coiled from the first with contempt and dread from both the
teaching, which I thought distinctly unchristian, and the teachers,
whom I conceived to be fascinating men of the world of irre-
proachable character doubtless, but in every hour of their lives
and by their pet peculiarities dragging down the dignity of the
priesthood, and surreptitiously committing the church to the most
vital heresies. Be it remembered that it was a postulant for
holy orders who was thus passing the bishops and doctors of
his church before him in critical judgment.

I finally settled upon the General Seminary in New York,
whose traditional High-church tone and confessed pre-eminence
possessed attractions for me.

But to get there I had to have a tussle with my bishop
(Dr. Pinckney, of Maryland). He suspected the Romanizing
influence of the Chelsea school, and forbade his " candidates "
to go there. Here was a difficulty !

I cut the Gordian knot by coolly leaving my bishop, and
found no difficulty whatever in being received into that happiest
of all heterogeneous happy families, the diocese of New York !

1 895.] As You LIKE IT. 339

" Do as you please and you will be happy," would seem to be
the motto for the theological student of that body.

I found myself at last in a cassock and an atmosphere of
Catholicity at Chelsea Square. But, alas ! the professors were
as widely antagonistic in their teaching as the various seminaries.
So once more the students sitting at their feet must exercise that
most unnatural selection and determine which learned doctor
taught truth and which error. And there was indeed a choice of
" feet " there at which to " sit." One of the professors heard
confessions ; another was just then publishing a work against the
whole doctrine and practice of Penance ! " Take your choice,
gentlemen," we were practically told. One dear old doctor,
now gone to his rest, was a ferocious Protestant, and afforded
us infinite fun by his side-thrusts at the authors and teachings
given to us by another professor.

One had to .pity those godly and learned men, for they
occupied a ticklish position in that, the General Seminary which
was more or less under all of the bishops. As we found it
impossible to believe and accept what at different hours was
differently taught, so our teachers must have found it next to
impossible to conform to the notions of some sixty bishops,
scarcely two of whom would have agreed perfectly in doctrine.
The consequence was that while Alexandria was flatly and
plainly " low," and Nashota monkishly " high," and Cambridge
Pharisaically " broad," the General Seminary strove to be
" safe."

Now " safety " of that sort is attainable only by acrobats.
And dodging, meaning and not meaning, saying and not doing,
characterized the tone and temper""of that astounding school of
the prophets. Cut deep into the stone walls of the chapel, over
the students' stalls, runs the divine commission, and in Latin,
"Receive the Holy Ghost for the office of a priest. Whoso-
ever sins ye remit they are remitted" etc., etc., and yet, should
one of these same professors, in plain English, tell the young
future priests to teach and hear confessions, he would hear
from the bishops in short order, and a still nearer authority
would whisper to him that " it was not safe."

So from the moment that I began to look for God until
that moment that I passed into His One True fold I was my-
self my only teacher, as at each step I was compelled to pick
and choose from the discordant doctors the one with whom I
(the student and the learner) thought I agreed.

340 So ME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. [June,

SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT.

BY F. E. GILLIAT-SMITH.

HE vials of confusion," said Cardinal Manning
nearly twenty years ago " the vials of confusion
are poured out on that time-honored, aristocratic
but schismatic Church of England."

He was alluding to the troubles at Hatcham
to the contumacy of Mr. Tooth, and from that day to this
things have only gone from bad to worse. The complications
arising out of the Machonichie case, the Lincoln judgment,
and a host of other difficulties have only rendered confusion
worse confounded.

All this is true on the face of it, and yet some ten years
later, in 1885, we find the same keen-sighted ecclesiastic depre-
cating any attack by Catholics on the Establishment, on the
ground of its value as a teaching body.

" If," he said, " the use of the established churches of this
country be regarded in no other light than as elementary cate-
chetical schools and they are, indeed, a great deal more which
have sustained and are sustaining a large measure, though sadly
mutilated, of our Christian traditions, nevertheless, even as cate-
chetical schools, together with the large system of Christian edu-
cation maintained by them, they ought not to be hindered in
their action by revolutionary measures, much less ought they to
be rudely destroyed "; and long before Cardinal Newman, a man
usually of a very different tone of thought, had expressed al-
most identical views.

The fact is, if we look into the matter a little more closely,
we shall see that the confusion is more apparent than real, or
rather, more theoretical than practical, less widespread than it is
sometimes supposed to be.

We do not mean to say that contradictory doctrines are not
taught within the pale of the Establishment, but that practical,
moderate men of all parties and these probably form the majority
of her clergy, generally speaking leave speculative and debated
questions, as much as possible, on one side, and content them-
selves with treating religion from what they conceive to be a
practical point of view. The same class of clergy show little

1895.] SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. 341

or no hostility to other forms of belief, except where other
churches clash with them, where there is rivalry.

This is not generally the case in country districts, especially
those removed from great industrial centres, where for the most
part the squire and the parson still reign supreme ; and, after all,
the country, so far as concerns the future, is of greater importance
than the town, for it is the country which is the nursery of the
rising generation ; and first impressions usually last longest.
That fads and errors and gross heresies do exist there can be
no denying, and where this is so there is often intolerance.

In a most useful article in the December issue of the Nine-
teenth Century Edward Miller gave his experience of parochial
work in two country parishes where he was respectively vicar
and rector for a very considerable period, and in the first of
which, as there was no resident squire, the whole heat and bur-
den of the day fell on his shoulders alone. His paper may be
sufficiently described as a categorical account of the various
good works which he, the " village tyrant," inaugurated and in
many cases brought to a successful issue, for the material and
social advancement of his parishioners, and how he, thereby, annu-
ally expended the whole of the income which accrued to him
from his benefices.

And although some cavilling folk may think it egoistical thus
to blow one's own trumpet, an article like Mr. Miller's has at
all events this merit, that the information it contains is given
at first hand. Where, then, the author is a man of established
probity, and of this in the present case there can be no doubt,
we need have no hesitation in accepting the accuracy of his
statements.

Mr. Miller observes, and we know from experience that this
is so though, of course, all are not in a position to do as much
as he did that his is a very typical case of the country clergy
generally. He adds, many have far surpassed in their labors,
etc. It would seem, then, regarding the matter for the moment
from a purely secular point of view, that the country parsonages
of England form a series of civilizing foci scattered throughout
the length and breadth of the land, greatly conducive to the
material, intellectual, and social well-being of the rural popula-
tions.

Moreover, they insure everywhere the continual presence of
a resident gentry, a matter in itself of no small importance to
the country, whose influence is in the main healthy, and in some
measure goes to counterbalance the evil done by political agents

342 SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. [June,

and professional agitators, who perambulate the land sowing
everywhere, for their own ends, or the ends of their party, the
seeds of discord and discontent.

From what has been said, we take it, the following conclu-
sions may fairly be drawn : First, that the Church of England,
as by law established, is an institution which teaches and enforces
the truths of natural religion, and at least the elementary
truths of revealed religion ; secondly, that her social and poli-
tical influence is, on the whole, most salutary ; thirdly, that her
action on the masses, materially speaking, is highly beneficial.

In order to grasp fully the meaning of the word disestab-
lishment, to realize the force of the blow which its advocates
would hurl at the Church of England, it is important to bear
in mind the actual social status of the Anglican clergyman.

To begm with : the parson now shares with the squire the
chief place in the village community ; or, where there is no resi-
dent squire, or, as is not unfrequently the case, where the
clergyman unites both offices in his own person, and thus be-
comes what they call, in the midland counties, a "squarson," he
reigns alone supreme.

Secondly, the bishops of the Established Church are, for
the most part, peers, and the humblest curate, as a possible
prelate, holds, in some measure, the position of a younger son
of a noble house, or, at least, shines with a light reflected
through lawn sleeves from the gilded chamber.

Furthermore, in addition to the halo of respectability which
always surrounds the head of a state official, the clergy of the
Established Church, or at least her beneficed clergy, are almost
all of them gentlemen. It could hardly be otherwise under a
system of appointment like that actually in vogue, including as
it does lay patronage, and everything which that entails.

Disestablish the church, and at one blow you cut off all
these advantages, and though she might not directly come-down
from her lofty pedestal, the day of humiliation would be near
at hand. Sooner or later she would infallibly fall to the plane
of the sects which surround her. The status of her very arch-
bishops would be debased to that of Dr. Parker or Mr. Booth,
and as for her lower clergy, the humblest tub-thumper on Clap-
ham Common would legally become their equal.

Nor is this all. In the mental calibre, in the intrinsic
quality of her clergy, Anglicanism would suffer immensely.

It is said, we know not with what truth, that even now
few of her best men take orders. When, maimed, crippled,

1 89 5.] SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. 343

halting, she could no longer offer them any of the plums of
life, the number of able men who cared to link their lot with
hers would surely be few indeed.

So much the better, some will say, for the church ; it is well
to keep worldlings out of her ranks. Granted, from a spiritual
point of view, if it be admitted that the Church of England is
a spiritual body ; but we are looking at the matter from a
Catholic point of view, and from our point of view the Church
of England is simply a human organization.

Deprive her, then, of the sinews of war, of the social
prestige which she enjoys as an important branch of the civil
service, of the eclat which she receives from the presence within
the ranks of her clergy of men of high standing socially and
intellectually, and even if the conflicting elements of which she
is made up continued for any length of time to cohere, it
could not be otherwise than that her power for good or for
evil would be at once greatly diminished, that her whole vital
action would be gradually but surely destroyed.

To turn to the other side of the question. What effect
would the disestablishment of Anglicanism have on the Catholic
Church ?

As to direct advantages, as far as we can see, there could be
but one, and that of a questionable character. The Catholic
priest would be legally, what by his own intrinsic merits he is^
daily becoming more widely recognized as socially the equal of
the Anglican clergyman ; but, be it borne in mind, not by the
elevation of the former, but by the degradation of the latter.

Nor, when they come to be examined, are the indirect
benefits to be reaped from disestablishment of a much less
vague and shadowy nature.

First and foremost the tithe question suggests itself, and the
cessation of the payment of tithe or its equivalent to the Angli-
can clergyman would alone, it may be urged, be an immense
boon, not only to every Catholic land-owner, but to every land-
owner in the kingdom ; a boon, moreover, which might well be
calculated to benefit indirectly many a struggling mission.

But, though a few individual Catholics might possibly find
some satisfaction in the thought that no portion of their income
any longer found its way into the pockets of the parson, the
material advantage which they would receive would, in all prob-
ability, be nil. The tithes would have to be paid, just the
same as before.

Again, it may be said that disestablishment would break

344 SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. [June,

the yoke from off the neck of those clergy who are only
hindered from joining the Catholic Church from a dread of the
stern fact that, by doing so, they would lose as well their
social position as their means of livelihood.

In the first place, there is no evidence to show that such a
class of men exists. But even if there be a considerable body
of clergymen thus situated, how would disestablishment help
them? unless, indeed, no compensation were made for life in-
terests, an injustice which public opinion would hardly permit.

It is conceivable, however, that circumstances might arise
which would give ground for hope that some measure of good
might eventually be the outcome of the overthrow of the
national religion disestablishment might not improbably bring
about disintegration.

Where the lines of cleavage would be, would be hard to
say. The old Evangelical party might possibly be absorbed by
the various more respectable non-conforming bodies Congrega-
tional, Baptist, Wesleyan, and so forth or it might make com-
mon cause with the free Episcopal Church. From this quarter,
then, there is nothing to be hoped, but it should be remem-
bered that Evangelicanism is on the wane within the pale of
the Establishment ; but a minority, and that a feeble minority,
style themselves Low-Churchmen.

If help is to come to us from disestablishment it is from the
High-Church party that we must look for it, and the High-
Church party have for years past been slowly but steadily gain-
ing ground. With it, undoubtedly, is the flowing tide.

Of this party, perhaps the majority are simply indifferent to
Roman claims and Roman pretensions. They know nothing of
them. How should they ? It is not to their interest to do so.
They do not wish, as they would say, to unsettle their simple
faith, to stir up muddy water, to raise questions to which it
would be inconvenient to offer a reply. Of the rest, a small
hody of noisy individuals, of late years much en evidence, show
themselves, perhaps from motives of diplomacy, bitterly hostile to
the church. Others, again, are friendly towards Catholicism,
put no difficulties in the way of conversions, accept most some
of them all of our dogmas, including papal infallibility and the
Immaculate Conception, and publicly proclaim that they look
forward to the day when the Church of England shall once
more be united to the See of Rome.

Such, then, is the present position of the High-Church party ;
thus would it seem to be divided. As to the first class, the

1 895.] SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. 345

shattering of their own frail vessel might possibly impel them,
as a last resource, to at least make trial of the sea-worthiness
of Peter's barque.

For the second, even if all their noise and brag and blus-
ter do, in truth, proceed from honest indignation at what they
think to be the corruptions and innovations of modern Rome,
still adversity may make them see things as they really are.
When the rain descends, and the floods come, and the winds
blow, and beat upon that house which with such infinite labor
they have reared on the shifting sands of historical fallacy and
pride, and sweep it clean away, in sheer desperation they, too,
may be driven to take refuge in that mighty stronghold which
Christ himself hath founded on a rock.

What shall we say of the third class ? Self-interest, and
some honest scruple or other as to the validity or invalidity of
Anglican orders, alone keep them back ; the second we might
confidently hope would very soon settle itself, if only the initial
difficulty could be removed. Would disintegration do so ?

There is, however, another factor which must be taken into
consideration. A spirit of liberalism in religious thought is
rapidly leavening the whole lump so far as concerns the Church
of England, and this spirit of liberalism is, at present, hostile to
Catholic claims. Whether it will continue to be so remains to
be seen.

The fact, however, that among Broad-Churchmen there are
many honest, humble-minded, God-fearing men, in good faith
and of good will, augurs well for the future.

For such, if only they knew it, there is ample room in
Peter's fold ; for albeit the private and particular views of not a
few of her children are still somewhat straitened, the embrace
of Mother Church is very large.

The influence of liberalism, then, on the High-Church party
must be regarded as an unknown quantity, which might or
might not prove favorable to the cause of our holy religion.

The Tractarian movement, and that development of it which
goes by the name of Ritualism, has done much, and is rapidly
doing more, to vulgarize the knowledge of Catholic truth.

The story of its success in this field is an old one, but per-
haps it will be convenient at the present moment to tell it
over again.

Proceeding with that delightful inconsequence and want of
logic so characteristic of Englishmen, never once pausing to ask
themselves by what authority they were doing these things,

346 SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. [June,

nay, notwithstanding the avowed opposition of the whole Angli-
can episcopate, in face of the open derision of the entire daily
press, in defiance of all authority ecclesiastical as well as civil,
in spite of a united public opinion envenomed with three cen-
turies of jealousy, terror and greed, a little band of the lower
clergy, a mere handful, by sheer dogged perseverance and per-
tinacity of purpose succeed not only in implanting in the very
bosom of erst that stronghold of Protestantism, the Anglican
Establishment, almost all the debated dogmas of the Catholic
religion, with all the outward forms and ceremonies- with which
the Catholic Church accompanies their manifestation, but in
obtaining what is practically official recognition that those doc-
trines and practices form part and parcel, at least permissively,
of the doctrines and practices of the state church of England.

The achievement is certainly a remarkable one. None but
Englishmen would have dared to have done it, and in no other
country but England would the accomplishment have been pos-
sible.

But this is not all ; explain it how you will, Ritualism is the
fertile mother not only which has brought forth, but which con-
tinues to bring forth, more than half our converts.

But to continue, and here we come to the point to which
we wish to draw especial attention. Had it not been for the
retention of the old ecclesiastical constitution and forms of
church government, of the old Catholic liturgy and breviary
offices, for broadly speaking the book of Common Prayer is
little less than a compression, an abbreviation, a curtailment if
you will, of the old liturgical books in and before the Reforma-
tion, the wonderful success which has attended the Tractarian
movement would have been altogether impossible. Nay, the
extraordinary Catholic revival which in these latter days has
rejoiced the heart of the church in England would almost cer-
tainly never have been.

Thus much, then, has Anglicanism done for us in the past.
What, if she continue the state church of England, may we
expect of her in the future ?

We cannot for an instant attempt to forecast the current of
events, but there are certain facts and certain precedents which
cannot be gainsaid, and which, in regard to this question, it will
be useful to bear in mind.

(i) There are no signs that Ritualism is yet beginning to de-
cline ; on the contrary, everything seems to indicate that it has
not yet reached the acme of its power.

1 89 5.] SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. 347

It is daily and hourly increasing its borders, and unless some
unforeseen conjunction of circumstance arise, the time is not far
off when it will have leavened the whole Anglican Church.

(2) The category of Catholic truths which Ritualists incul-
cate is becoming longer rather than shorter, the truths them-
selves more definite, and more accurately defined.

(3) The stream of converts which the movement sends us
has in no way diminished, but, on the contrary, is growing
wider and deeper every day.

(4) The usual course with individual converts is to accept
the various dogmas of the Catholic religion separately, to con-
vince themselves of their truth one by one, and finally to ex-
amine the credentials of the divine authority which enjoins
them.

(5) When the English schism was healed under Queen Mary,
Mass had been restored and doctrine purified, before Parlia-
ment finally decided by a formal vote to return to the
obedience of the Holy See.

It may be urged that even if we could certainly foresee that
the Anglican Church would eventually be reconciled to Rome,
Catholics would gain nothing by the maintenance of the present
state of things, because before any reconciliation could take
place the consent of Parliament would have to be obtained.
That is to say, the people of England would first have to be
converted, and, were this once accomplished, it would be just
as easy or easier to make the actual Catholic organization the
state church of the realm, or, if need be, to found an entirely
new organization.

We answer that Anglicanism is the source of Rome's re-
cruits, that Disestablishment spells death the death of the goose
which lays the golden eggs, the indefinite postponement of
England's conversion, and that experience shows the mainte-
nance of a burden to be a far easier matter than its reimposi-
tion when once it has been removed. Besides, in the present
case the new burden would be in itself much harder to bear
than the old. The endowment question alone would be one
bristling with difficulties. Any resumption of the old church
funds, or such of them as remained, being, in common justice,
impossible, without adequate compensation to those corporations
which at the time were held to have the right to enjoy them,
the solution of the dilemma would probably have to be found
in that expedient fertile source of irritation an annual public
worship budget. The natural and not altogether unfounded

348 SOME NOTES ON DISESTABLISHMENT. [June.

dread of investing the hierarchy with political power would
doubtless prove another hindrance, and then " the state has got
on very well all these years without the church, the church
without the state ; why should they be again united ? " This
would be an argument sure to be heard.

And yet some sort of a union between church and state,
we have it on the highest authority, is at least desirable, and,
after all, a state religion is, in a certain way, individually to the
nation which maintains it what the divine office is collectively
to the whole church a long unbroken public act of faith and
love and worship.

One more consideration and we have done. The existing
organization of the Catholic Church in England, with its in-
complete hierarchy, which gathers up, as it were, all power
into the hands of the bishops, which excludes the laity from any
part in the administration of those funds which they so liberally
provide, necessary outcome as it is of the circumstances of the
age which engendered it, and well adapted, doubtless, to those
circumstances of that age, might prove a serious danger, should
England ever again become Catholic, not only to the rights
and liberties of the laity and of the lower clergy, but to the
very stability of the newly established faith, whilst, on the other
hand, the Anglican constitution, outcome of the day when all
England was Catholic, safeguards, in a special manner, the
ecclesiastical rights and liberties of all sorts and conditions of
men.

The maintenance, then, of that constitution is, in a certain
sense, a guarantee that the religious life of the English people,
when it again returns, and assuredly it will return, shall flow
quietly and naturally along its traditional channels.

WORDSWORTH'S COTTAGE AT RYDAL.

WORDSWORTH: HlS HOME AND WORKS.

BY PHILIP OLERON.

'WO names ever to be connected with poetry are
those of William W 7 ordsworth and his devoted
sister Dorothy. Thirteenth of the poets laure-
ate, he formed with Coleridge and Southey the
famous Lake trio.
The influence of his sister was all through life immense, and
with the exception of an interval of some years during their
early youth the two were continually together. Dorothy was
but six years old when their mother died, and the future poet
was sent to school at Hawkshead. Five years later Mr. Words-
worth himself died, leaving his children orphans and the family
broken up. From this time till he left Cambridge he saw little
of that sister who was to be his dearest companion in after
life ; the long vacation of 1790 he spent in her company at Pen-
rith, where they enjoyed long rambles together. Of her he said :

" She gave me eyes, she gave me ears,
And humble cares, and delicate fears
A heart, the fountain of sweet tears
And love, and thought and joy."

The summer of 1791 they spent together in Switzerland, and
this year saw his first poems, dedicated to her. Returning to Hali-
fax, in Yorkshire, they lived there till 1795, when the two removed

350

WORDSWORTH : His HOME AND WORKS. [June,

to Racedown, in Dorsetshire, of which Dorothy wrote : " It was
the first home I had." Here Wordsworth wrote the " Borderers,"
and here Coleridge visited them. In a letter to a friend the
sister thus described their guest : " He is a wonderful man.
His conversation teems with soul, mind, and spirit. Then he is
so benevolent, so good-tempered and cheerful, and, like William,
interests himself so much about every little trifle. At first I
thought him very plain that is, for about three minutes ; he is
pale, thin, has a wide mouth, thick lips, and not very good
teeth : longish, loose-growing, half-curling, rough black hair.
But if you hear him speak for five minutes, you think no more
of them. His eye is large and full, and not very dark, but
gray ; such an eye as would receive from a heavy soul the
dullest expression, but it speaks every emotion of his animated
mind ; it has more of * The poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling '
than I ever witnessed. He has fine dark eyebrows, and an
overhanging forehead."

As a result of this visit the brother and sister removed to

THE LAKE HILLS NEAR GRASMERE.

Alfoxden, in Somersetshire, where they saw Coleridge often.
Walking one autumn evening towards Lynmouth, having crossed
into Devonshire, the two poets planned the " Ancient Mariner."
Wordsworth's first publication was practically unnoticed. At
Racedown he had penned " The Ruined Cottage," and " The

1895.] WORDSWORTH : His HOME AND WORKS. 351

Borderers," composed in the same place, was rejected this year.
At Alfoxden he wrote, after a visit to a ruin, " Tintern Abbey,"
which formed one of the Lyrical Ballads so moderately received
in 1798. During all this time he was conscious of the devotion
and encouragement he received from his sister, and sings of
her virtues in more than one poem.

The autumn of 1798 and the winter following they spent in
Germany, at Goslar, near the Hartz forest, where they studied
the language, and where " Lucy Gray " was composed on the
narration of a story by Dorothy. Being confined to the house
by extreme cold, the brother worked hard while his sister
wrote in her interesting journal.

Returning to England, the two went to the Hutchinsons at
Sockburn on Tees, and leaving his sister there, William, with
Coleridge as companion, walked through the lake district in
Cumberland, North England, and was so charmed with it that
he determined to secure a cottage at Grasmere, of which place
thirty years before Gray had said " all is peace, rusticity, and
happy poverty in its neatest and most becoming attire." The
spot was indeed beautiful with its lakes and hills, and so on
St. Thomas's Day, 1799, they moved to their new home, and
were soon joined by their late host and hostess at Sockburn,
receiving in the meantime a visit from their young brother John.

This country life with its simple surroundings was just what
the poet desired. Hardly an event narrated by his sister
escaped being put into verse. She describes vividly the scene
which stirred him to write " The Daffodils " in her journal. To
this piece Wordsworth's wife Mary Hutchinson, whom he mar-
ried in the ensuing October added the finishing lines :

" They flash upon that inward eye,
Which is the bliss of solitude."

In the year 1802 Wordsworth, accompanied as usual by his
sister, passed through London and on by Dover and Calais to
the Continent, where they spent a month. At the latter place
Dorothy wrote : " Delightful walks in the evenings ; seeing far
off in the west the coast of England, like a cloud, crested with
Dover Castle, the evening star, and the glory of the sky ; the
reflections in the water were more beautiful than the sky itself;
purple waves, brighter than precious stones, for ever melting
away upon the sands."

On their return, as remarked above, Wordsworth married
Mary Hutchinson, and this year, 1803, they travelled through
Scotland, accompanied part of the way by Coleridge. They saw

352 WORDSWORTH : His HOME AND WORKS. [June,

at Dumfries the grave of Burns, who had died six years before.
Of this visit Wordsworth said : " The poet's grave is in a corner
of the church-yard. We looked at it with melancholy and pain-
ful reflection, repeating to each other his own verses :

VIEW IN GRASMERE.

" ' Is there a man who judgment clear, etc.,' "
and on his return home wrote :

" ' I mourned with thousands, but as one
More deeply grieved, for he was gone
Whose light I hailed when first it shone,

And showed my youth
How verse may build a princely throne
On humble truth.' '

On September 16 they were in Edinburgh, and nine days later
with Sir Walter Scott at Melrose.

A year after the birth of a daughter, Dorothy, came the
news of his brother's death. John perished with his ship, a
large East Indiaman, Earl of Abergavenny, February 6, 1805.
As the poet mused on the hills and plucked a specimen of Lin-
naeus he thought, and afterwards wrote :

" He would have loved thy modest grace,

Meek flower ! To him I would have said :
' It grows upon its native bed,
Beside our parting-place.' "

1 895-]

WORDSWORTH: HlS HOME AND WORKS.

353

Wordsworth's family was now so augmented that he moved
into a house at Coleoston, placed at his service by Sir George
Beaumont.

WORDSWORTH'S COTTAGE AT GRASMERE.

In 1807 he first turned seriously to sonnets and in the
next few years composed many ; the first two were on
Napoleon.

VOL.LXI. 23

354 WORDSWORTH: His HOME AND WORKS. [June,

In the autumn the family received a visit from De Quincey,
who thus describes the home :

"A little semi-vestibule, between two doors, prefaced the en-
trance into what would be considered the principal room of the
cottage. It was an oblong square, not above eight and a half
feet high, sixteen feet long, and twelve broad ; very prettily
wainscoted from the floor to the ceiling with dark polished oak,
slightly embellished with carving. One window there was . . .
embossed at almost every season of the year with roses, and in
the summer and autumn with a profusion of jasmine and other
fragrant shrubs. ... I was ushered up a little flight of stairs,
fourteen inches in all, to a little drawing-room ; . . . there was,
however, In a small recess, a library of perhaps three hundred
volumes, which seemed to consecrate the room as the poet's study
and composing-room, and such occasionally it was. . . . Early
in the morning I was awakened by a little voice, issuing from a
little cottage-bed in an opposite corner, soliloquizing in a low
tone. I soon recognized the words : ' Suffered under Pontius
Pilate ; was crucified, dead and buried ' ; and the voice I easily
conjectured to be that of the eldest among Wordsworth's chil-
dren, a son, and at that time about three years old."

Wordsworth himself said of his life : " My sister and I were
in the habit of having the tea-kettle in our little sitting-room ;
and we toasted the bread ourselves."

In 1811, after losing two children, Wordsworth removed to
Rydal Mount, and in 1814 paid a second visit to Scotland with
his wife and her sister. This year he finished the " Excursion,"
and took little holiday again till 1820, when he went abroad
travelling through France, Belgium, Germany, and Italy. For
nine years he worked continually, aided very much by Dorothy,
for whom the strain was too much ; for in 1829 she became
seriously ill and never thoroughly recovered. She outlived her
brother, however, by five years, dying in 1855 at the age of
eighty-three, while the poet, who had been made laureate in 1843,
passed away in his eightieth year. His sister lies beside him in
the church-yard at Grasmere,

" And in that further and serener life,
Who says that they shall be remembered not ? "

Hazlitt has described Wordsworth as " the most original
poet of the time, but one whose writings were not read by the
vulgar, not understood by the learned, despised by the great,
and ridiculed by the fashionable." He certainly rose to fame

18950

WORDSWORTH: His HOME AND WORKS.

355

slowly, but he began at an early age and finally wrote himself
into the hearts of the people. Wordsworth did not escape the
satire of Byron, who refers to him as one

" Who both by precept and example shows
That prose is verse and verse is merely prose/*

in 1809 ; while Leigh Hunt makes Apollo, in the " Feast of the
Gods," scorn not only Wordsworth but Coleridge also.

GRAVES OF WORDSWORTH AND HIS SISTER DOROTHY.

'* For Coleridge had vexed him long since, I suppose,
By his idling and gabbling and muddling in pross ;
And as for that Wordsworth ! he'd been so benurst
Second childhood with him had come close on the first."

Like other young and ardent men of the time, he looked on
the French Revolution as a good omen, and wrote :

" Bliss was it in the dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven ! O times,
In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance ! "

" I was a sharer in the general vortex," said Coleridge.
More, perhaps, to his sonnets than his other works did
William Wordsworth owe his high position. In these indeed he

356 WORDSWORTH : His HOME AND WORKS. [June,

excelled, arid at his best reached far ahead of his contempora-
ries, and even might be called the prince of all English sonnet
writers. There is a great gulf between his best and worst
pieces, and some of the latter are very ordinary poems. He
had a bad habit of rhyming upon everything, and never wrote
anything to equal " In Memoriam " or " Hiawatha," when we
are considering only the long pieces. Amongst his short poems
" The Daffodils " is perhaps the best known.

In his enormous number of sonnets he dealt with various
subjects. In two he surpassed himself, namely, that on Venice
and the one on the subjugation of Switzerland :

" Once did she hold the gorgeous East in fee,
And was the safeguard of the West : the worth
Of Venice did not fall below her birth,
Venice the eldest Child of Liberty.
She was a maiden city, bright and free :
No guile seduced, no force could violate ;
And when she took unto herself a mate,
She must espouse the everlasting sea."

The thought through the second is similar :

" Two voices are there ; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains ; each a mighty voice :
In both from age to age thou didst rejoice,
They were thy chosen music, Liberty."

Then when Napoleon practically suzerain of Naples, Italy,
Switzerland, Holland, and Germany seemed ready to turn and
rend England with her one small ally, Sweden ; and when the
young Republic in America, under a hostile president, seemed
ready for war, Wordsworth spoke :

" Another year! another deadly blow!
Another mighty empire overthrown :
And we are left, or shall be left, alone ;
The last that dare to struggle with the foe."

Wordsworth was a High-Churchman and in prose strongly
anti-Roman Catholic. But between his prose and verse there is
a strange contrast, for in the latter he mentions very favorably
the monasteries and schoolmen, and especially the Blessed Virgin,
whom he addresses as :

" Our tainted nature's solitary boast."

1895-] DOWNFALL OF ZOLAISM. 357

DOWNFALL OF ZOLAISM.

BY WALTER LECKY.

FEW years ago, while visiting a friend in a suburb
of London, I ran across these lines ornamenting
a dead-wall :

" Go forth in haste,

With bills and paste,
Proclaim to all the nation :

That they are wise

Who advertise
In every generation."

It may or it may not be poetry that is a matter of taste in
these days, when every suckling has a definition on his lips
but it is sense, and sanity rules the roost in the long run.

Few men keep it in mind so constantly as the subject of
this paper, Emile Zola, does. It is to his knack of advertising
that he owes what ephemeral fame he may possess. As a liter-
ary artist, not even his ablest followers could persuade us to
hail him as such. Howells, from his pulpit in Harper's, tried
that trick. His converts were a few morbid sciolists of the
school which believes that novelty is the standard of genius in
literature. Howells has left the pulpit, with his Tolstoi and
Valdes. Trilby is just now the fashion, and your American
reader follows the fashions in books as well as hats.

That his end was near ; that, like Martin Tupper, he had
lived to see the shadow mantling his fame, was well known to
Zola. People were tired of his filth, weary of his ego. Critics
like Brunetiere had made sport of his platitudes and mockery
of his strut. In his palmy days, days of pot-paste and putrid-
ity, he had written " La re"publique sera naturaliste, ou elle ne
sera pas." This na'if phrase means the conquest of France by
the naturalism of the writer. Let the present government
meditate on that pithy, pointed advice. Zola and safety ; no
German nightmares to poison its sleep ; no Panama Canal
schemes to hurry its waking hours, but peace and prosperity.
Strange that not only the government an irreligious one at

358 DOWNFALL OF ZOLA ISM. [June,

that but the masses have derisively rejected his advice. Such an
acute adviser felt quickly the people's pulse. They were clamoring
for art, hungering for long-banished ideals ; would not a new sensa-
tion melt on their jaded palates ? a pudding of reckless mendacity,
dulness, spiced immorality, served up in the dish of pseudo-science.

Lourdes was written. It was advertised as a scientific study ;
critics laughed in their sleeve at the myth. It was to be a
rigorous investigation of documents humaines, under the suze-
rainty of Pasha Zola. Religious journals gave him credit for
good intentions ; they took the Jekyll, and forgot the Hyde
part ; bespoke him a royal welcome at Lourdes ; and in the
dulness of their editorial sanctum saw a sinner singing mea
culpa. Abbs opened long pent books, doctors added their tes-
timonies, peasants came with their belief. Patients of Charcot,
scoffers of his school a school that promised surcease from
pain, and could give but a few minutes' calm brought, if one
may so phrase it, their healed maladies. Here on every hand
were documents humaines, ready for the application of his for-
mule scientifique. We have the effect in Lourdes. I daresay
no critic, French or English, will have the hardihood to explain
Zola's use of the formule scientifique.

If this is science, Scotch ghosts and Irish fairies are more
real. It was a good stroke of trade to have an American jour-
nal publish it as a weekly sermon ; it was in line with the spas-
modic sensationalism of the New York pulpit. It may have
been read in weekly doses, at least by Apaism ; in bulk there
comes an ominous doubt. Read Zola's dulness and Steven-
son, Doyle, Kipling, Barrie, telling stories ! The ladies, the feed-
ers of writers and publishers, are not heroic ; and it were heroic
indeed to wade in a Zola pool, while Du Maurier was waiting
to conduct them through the mazes of the " Latin Quartier " ;
Kipling, to show them an Indian jungle ; Stevenson, the coast
of Samoa ; Barrie, his native Thrums. Even G. P. R. James,
with his romantic horseman, or Roe peace to his shade ! with
his Barriers Burned Away, were preferable.

If the failure of Lourdes was emphasized in America, it was
no less so in its native France ; a fact which proves the decay
of Realism, or Zolaism, during the life of its most active cham-
pion and orthodox expounder. To what influence may this rapid
reaction be attributed ? An exposition of the theories of the
school and their manner of application is the best answer. It
is useless to begin at its origin, if that to any certainty can be
found. Traces of it may be felt in the Greek and Roman

1 89 5.] DOWNFALL OF ZOLA ISM. 359

writers, though there is no evidence of their conscious use of it ;
in the Renaissance, when men's minds were fantastic and un-
balanced ; and finally formulated into a literary canon by Sebas-
tian Mercier, in his Essay on Dramatic Art, published in Amster-
dam, 1773. In this essay he not only ante-dates Zola and his
school, but supplies them with much of the matter elaborated
in their bible, Le Roman Experimental. As this bible is their up-
to-date belief, and contains Mercier unabridged, night-cap and
all, to it must the critic go ; and in doing so bear in mind the
warning of M. Zola, that he will only fight on his own dung-
hill : "J'attend toujours un adversaire qui consente a se mettre
sur mon terrain et qui me combatte avec mes armes." He dis-
dains, and rightly, those who make " un petit naturalisme a
leur usage " the straw man of the critics, and calmly and effec-
tively dispose of their creation.

What teaches their bible ? " A system which ties down art to
the reproduction of the sensible reality as made known by experi-
ence." In other words, realism accepts all the elements that nature
furnishes, just as they are. It contents itself with fragments, with-
out a thought of the whole to which they belong. It does not
occupy itself with finishing the incomplete, or drawing men and
things in their plenitude. It portrays indifferently the weak
and strong, the interesting and uninteresting, and cares little if
the given impression be vague and indecisive. Impassiveness
is a virtue, and the author must completely efface himself, be-
come a mere phonograph or photographic plate.

It is easy to rend this creed. Such theories are, to say
the least, inapplicable. They would do away with imagination,
that power which is essential to all abiding literature ; they
would banish the ideal and put on the dissecting-table lifeless
bodies. There is a graver objection : The school is strong in
its use of the word " experience." How can such a term be
applied to the deliberately planned puppets of an author's brain ?
What relation do these puppets bear to men and women ? In
the author's alembic are they not twisted and fitted and modelled
to suit their creator's point of view? Will they not dance, sing,
or weep as he pulls certain wires ? The author's effacement is
a mere myth. There is nothing of the aeolian harp principle
about him. His vagaries will peep through his characters ; his
personality dominate their actions. He will use his eyes, and
these may be of varying merit, and their seeing will be sifted
and colored with his own dyes.

What boles and knots has not dyspepsia given to literature !

360 DOWNFALL OF ZOLA ISM. [J un e,

Even grant that he could efface himself, what would he have
but the outside of things ? the very last thing that the realist
would pride himself on having. His is the cult of examination,
introspection, and various other words mouthed without the
slightest thought as to their logical meaning. He forgets that
the spirit cannot be treated as a part of nature, and brought
within the range of the phenomenal sciences, without a violation
of the fundamental fact of consciousness, namely, the distinc-
tion between the self-determining subject which knows and acts,
and the passive object which is known and acted upon.

With such false theories and philosophic ignorance what
wonder that the school is ruptured, tottering, and the output
decaying, its stench in every man's nostrils? " C'est un nouveau
siecle litte"raire qui. s'ouvre," said Zola, bringing into the arena
this formule scientifique . This formule has been contended for,
but the methods of science cannot be applied to art, and this
nouveau siecle is returning to the ways of the masters.

It is a question if Zola would have been hailed so long, even
with all his advertising tactics, had he not served to the
Parisian public huge collops of filth, and exhausted his talents
in the presentation of illicit passions, shocking the most sacred
canons of art. Discretion and delicacy were banished from his
mind. That he had a sensation, and feathered his nest during
its run, proves the sanity of the doggerel on the dead-wall.

The poet De Musset rightly read the school's tendencies, the
nature of its productions, and the ultimate cause of its death.
With an astonishing sagacity writes Paul de Musset ; three years
in advance he divined that this new kind of literature would
bring about a revolution, and have a profoundly corrupting
influence on public taste. " There ! " he cried as he showed me
the feuilleton, " look at this and tell me if imaginative literature
can live when people so brutalize their readers and themselves ?
Do you not see that this house-maid's literature will generate a
whole new world of ignorant and half-savage readers? I know
well enough that it will die one day of its excesses, but before
that it will have disgusted finer minds with reading."

The disgust has come. Ferdinand Brunetiere had truly
written: " M. Zola n'est de ses romans que le principal auteur,
mais il a pour complices tous les imprudents fauteurs de sa
reputation." The fauteurs have deserted, the color-bearer is left
alone. . The " hole naturaliste " that was to give stability to the
Republic has been found hollow and bottomless ; reaction has
set in on what lines is a new study.

I895-]

THE POPE AND ENGLAND.

THE POPE AND ENGLAND : TO-DAY AND
TO-MORROW.

BY ANSON T. COLT.

live in an age of prediction. The times are rife
with it. From the profound deductions of sci-
ence to the brilliant fictions of Verne and Bel-
lamy, an age that is intellectually most alert de-
clares on every hand its mind about the future.
And rightly so ; for the power of predicting, to a certain
extent, has a place in every normal mind, and therefore can-
not be without its use.

Islam, indeed, would do away with it and would administer
to the soul of each Mohammedan that local anaesthetic, kismet
'tis fate ; " whatever is, is right " that takes for the future no
care and little thought. Thus, the Turkish ambassador who is
described as having viewed the coronation pageant of Victoria
without moving a facial muscle, could have had but faint pre-
dictive insight regarding the achievements of her reign.

A proportion of the people among whom we are have the
predictive faculty in somewhat marked degree. The pretence of
" fortune-telling," with its kindred deceptions, is only a counter-
feit of this specific mental power. Happily it is often found
with those who are least likely to intentionally abuse it. The
richly imaginative mind might be thought the most successful
at foretelling, but in fact the more calculating and mathemati-
cal the brain the clearer will it conceive the ratio of any given
age to a succeeding one, and from present conditions determine
future developments.

Nor would the declaration hold regarding sensible prediction,
that " the wish is father to the thought," for one says :
I frequently have foreseen events which I heartily wished
might never come to pass,. and their approach filled me with
sadness, but I saw them coming, and they came.

Now, in view of what has been said about prediction, let us
consider, briefly as we must, England as she stands to-day.
This shall help us the better to forecast the future in its rela-
tion to the nation's most momentous affair the welfare of the
souls of her people.

362 THE POPE AND ENGLAND: [June, :

Her position : " Half an island off the coast of France," all
the world save England may exclaim ; but the least English
amongst us fairly might acknowledge that England now, albeit
for good or ill, is in several important respects the foremost
power of the earth.

Of course Americans best love America. They appreciate
the vastness of our wonderful Union of States ; but England
has had, and has made good use of, the necessary ages for
becoming great.

Insular position, also, is of much advantage to her in a
worldly way. It minimizes the need of military defence and
simplifies that which is absolutely necessary, letting the army be
outnumbered by eight others without fear of disastrous results.
It frees, also, the tremendous extra-acquisitive energy of the
people for the maintenance of a navy that is stronger by one-
sixth than any other. So this " little island " may concentrate
fighting force with a perfection that knows no precedent, and
hurl herself with ponderous weight of arms against the object"
of attack. There are English battle-ships well capable of shell-
ing the buildings of New York from miles beyond its harbor.
Thus we may realize her power by recalling what her ships
might do against us.

Immeasurably above this warlike strength, however, and
chief among the glories of England, rests her language, which is
likely to become within a century such a speech-medium for all
the world as Latin is throughout the universal church.

The greatness of England's position, power, and language
shows the importance of her having a tried and sure foundation
of existence, and one that shall endure.

The distinction between religious nature and religious charac-
ter is broad indeed, but the English people have a perceptible
blending of the two ; naturally they are positively religious.
England and those who are within her churchly influence are
to-day represented by an Anglican ministry whose number is
greater by a thousand men than the standing army of the
United States. But the one most widely spread desire of to-
day among them is for Catholicism, which is built on some-
thing more substantial than the idea that an unknowable kind
of lesion took place within the Body of Christ after the Sixth
QEcumenical Council, and that this internal wound remains
unhealed.

We need only read the recent declaration of the Cardinal-

1 895.] TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. 363

Archbishop of Westminster to realize the resumption of Catho-
lic ritual in so many parts of England, and to understand how
generally the nation is beginning to make use of the objective
features of the Faith. Englishmen cannot let many decades
pass before they understand once more that Catholic dignity
and beauty in holy things is vain without Catholic obedience.

In England, however, private judgment is yet allowed to
measure and weigh whatever itself may consider historical evi-
dence. To speak of Catholic principles as favorably as she
now quite generally does, is an excellent thing ; but to prove
what power upheld them in England from the Norman con-
quest to the sixteenth century, if an oft-maligned yet Sovereign
Pontificate did not, would be nearer to the purpose.

Much as we may admire phases of the English state, while
preferring our own, the position of the English Church is one
which no American, whatever his belief, can favor. An Episco-
palian bishop naturally of the fairest mind, no longer living,
made full inspection of the " Establishment " and its effects, and
then wrote homeward from London, referring to this feature,
from which the United State is wholly free : " The most law-
less thing in England is the Church of England."

Union of church and state is a human plan which tended in
former times to uphold the state ; but now its influence over
the personnel of its clergy cannot be salutary. Its first feature
is the necessary ratification by the crown of bishops previous to
their consecration. A second mark is the enforced payment of
tithes and church-rates by people living entirely apart from the
state religion, and who, in numberless instances, have no form
of faith whatever. How can they who are so situated readily
attain even a measure of conversion, or aid in the true advance-
ment of a church, or help to bring a blessing on it ?

This secularly conceived " union " contains two principles
which, when superficially examined, seem rather strong. One of
them secures the church her property rights through the aid
of the secular power. The other declares that churchmen shall
alone govern the state. But common justice compels every
government to protect the rights of property free, too, of taxa-
tion, when it directly serves the people's welfare, as really reli-
gious work invariably does.

It was found impossible to enforce, by means of legislation,
the "government by churchmen " clause, in other than the
merest nominal way. No executive power can train its officers

364 THE POPE AND ENGLAND : [June,

to become hearty churchmen. Her Majesty, to begin with,
manifestly prefers the Scotch Kirk and its chapel at Balmoral
Castle to any other place of worship in the kingdom. The
fallacy of establishment lies, however, deeper than this ; it was
anticipated, even before the actual founding of the church, by
our Divine Lord and in the words : " My kingdom is not of
this world."

At present the number of its opponents increases constantly.
It is in itself so unchristian, and hence so uncatholic, as to
cause the London Church Times to say : " As a nation we have
lost the Catholic faith and Catholic worship, and have a new
Protestant religion of our own."

No survey of the English Establishment could be begun,
however, without most fully recognizing the enormous volume
of pious and charitable work which it does every year through
out the land. But true and apostolic religion is charity's only
real foundation, and the best of England are enchained to-day
by the branch theory, which can never be proven Scriptural
and Catholic.

Yet the nation even now is full of souls, both clerical and
lay, who acknowledge to themselves that the life or death of
Protestantism as a belief hangs on the acceptance or rejection
of the Papal authority. Englishmen who accept this, to the
health of the soul, will observe within themselves a psychological
change which they can plainly realize ; it is the transfer of their
fealty from the power of individual choice to the privilege of
obedience.

About the year two thousand England will begin a
morrow ; not man's to-morrow, but that of God, with whom a
millenary is as a day. Surely as Divine power is greater than
malign influence, so surely are these changes of " to-morrow's "
England bound to tend towards her real advancement ; thus
prediction for England must be optimistic.

" Optimism is superficial " the pessimist asserts, but the little
worth of pessimism may be known by its non-effectiveness \
what have hopelessness and pessimism ever helped a man to
invent or to discover, to conquer, to achieve, or to win? Its
function is to tear down, not to edify, and we would look to it
in vain for help in thinking or in doing.

So let an optimism, duly qualified, always be with us.

We shall see by its light that the faith of England has a
future. The most conservative prediction cannot give Estab-

1 89 5.] TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. 365

lishment more than fifty years more, though it indeed dies
hard.

No one with a heart can fail to commiserate, however, the
ministers of England when this, for them, appalling change takes
place. There can be no escape from severe destitution ; sup-
plies withheld, necessities continued ; and all to prove what sort
of " mother " the state is in reality to them. For a single
instance : the seventy-five thousand dollars yearly income of
the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury swept almost away,
while the colleges, schools, hospitals, and work that depends
upon this income will continue to require support. It is on
passing through this veritable furnace of disestablishment that
the clergy of England shall turn to Catholicism, which alone
has withstood the sieges of time, deriving throughout all its
course authoritative mission solely from the Holy See and
from dioceses in full communion with, and holy obedience to it.

English church architecture bears sufficient witness to the
truth that the realm belongs rightfully to Catholicism. Every
Gothic arch in England tells its story of the past and affords a
prediction for the future. Springing into being, both in Eng-
land and on the Continent, during the eleventh century, it is
not known who reared the Gothic Order, nor its undoubted ori-
gin plain. Theories severally derive it from the interlacing
boughs of trees, or from the space that intervenes in masonry
when two round arches intersect. Its progress over Europe is
identified, however, with the work in church-building of the
monks and others who came from the Roman See, or from
some daughter diocese. During the sixteenth century Gothic
and Norman passed into other hands. But what connection is
there between the Gothic arch and Protestantism ? It must ever
remain Catholic in significance and in effect, as it was presuma-
bly in origin. In God's to-morrow, when he is pleased to sum-
mon back his own, the Gothic Order shall be restored to its
true place in the temples wholly Catholic.

Then, too, will the nation willingly exchange the counsels of
Canterbury, which of necessity must always be more than half
advisory in their nature, for the beneficent and paternal rule of
the Holy Father. The Sovereign Pontificate shall then no
longer be thought vain-glorious. What manner of human glory
is possessed by the " Prisoner in the Vatican " ? For his Holi-
ness absolutely nothing which the world accounts of value.

The clergy and people who will make the England of this

366 THE POPE AND ENGLAND. [June,

to-morrow, freed from the secularizing influence of a " union "
which is hostile to religion, will be ready to receive the gift of
Faith coming to obtain it, not in phalanx as an army but one
by one, those chiefly favored bringing families and friends.

Britons are too literal, too logical, too clear in their concep-
tions, too matter-of-fact, to be satisfied for longer than say three
added generations with the uncertainties and negations which
Protestantism's very name conveys. Nor can they longer de-
cline, it would be hard to doubt, the guidance of the over-
whelming majority of those whom Anglicans themselves concede
to be the Christian bishops of the world, and who to-day are
pillars of the Holy See.

A unique phase of the subject is the perfectly apparent ad-
miration with which thousands tens of thousands of Anglicans
are viewing the church, and testing all things in religion and in
daily practice according to their knowledge of the standards of
Catholicism.

And what other standards of doctrine and of action can
there be ? What agreement reached, in bearing onward through
the world the ark of God, unless not only His reign on earth,
but also, as a recent author well distinguishes the terms, His
rule begins ? And where is the rule that is operative on earth
without regularly authorized and duly commissioned adminis-
trators ?

These are questions which the to-morrow of England must
answer in the one and only way.

1895.]

DAWN.

367

DAWN.

BY BERTRAND L. CONWAY.

IGHT is gasping for breath, she is struggling with

death ;

She is faint as a dying fawn ;
She swoons away at the coming of day
At the flush of the filmy-eyed Dawn.
With a quivering joy comes this maiden coy
From a cleft in the starless sky,
Veiling the light from the prostrate Night
As she hastens, radiant, by.

Swiftly she came, in a rose-tinted flame

Swiftly she came from afar ;

Driven on by the love of the good God above,

In whose hand all created things are.

On, on, the while, with her comforting smile,

Over the mountain and plain

The whole earth in bliss waits her wak'ning kiss,

As withering flowers the rain.

She awakes from their dreams the slumbering streams;

She gladdens the longing birds ;

She speaks to the trees, waving soft in the breeze,

Of a joy that is sweeter than words.

She whispers in glee to the darkling sea

Of the death of the midnight drear ;

To old and to young her sweet song is sung

To both inexpressibly dear.

To forest and fen, to the shadowy glen,

To the flowers trembling and pale,

Her love-laughing eyes, as she lightning-swift flies,

Tell her sweetly mysterious tale.

Ever thus to the end will the Godhead send

Its messenger Dawn from on high,r

The symbol indeed of a world that is freed

Of a life that can never die.

368* PERSONAL CHARACTER OF [June,

PERSONAL CHARACTER OF THE RENAISSANCE

PONTIFFS.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

T is a matter of grave concern that little notice
has been taken as yet in the Catholic press of a
sweeping and unconditional accusation against the
personal character of a series of Popes in the
pages of Harper's Magazine. There is nothing
novel in the fact that charges are persistently made against in-
dividual Popes, for even during their own lives the circulation
of scandalous libels concerning several distinguished occupants
of the Papal chair gave point to Hamlet's monition : " Be thou
as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calum-
ny." The libeller and the blackmailer are, unfortunately, not
modern excrescences upon private and public life. In no coun-
try was the libel brought to such perfection as in Italy, even
before the advent of the printing-press. Pasquin made it into
an engine of torture so exquisite that his name has secured an
evil immortality by reason of his skill in lampooning. But hith-
erto such attacks have only been made against particular Popes.
The writer in Harper s takes the bold step of blackening the
characters of the Pontiffs of a whole era in one grand sweep of
his pitch-brush. It is of the century in which Joan Dare lived
and died that this language is used :

"The highest personages in Christendom, the Roman Popes,
vicegerents of God, representatives of Heaven upon earth, sole
authorized agents and purveyors of salvation, only infallible
models of human perfection, were able to astonish even that in-
famous era and make it stand aghast at the spectacle of their
atrocious lives, black with unimaginable treacheries, butcheries,
and bestialities.'"

This language is conveniently indefinite, inasmuch as it gives
no exact limit to enable the investigator to fix it as applying
to certain individuals. Its recklessness, no less than the terms
in which it is conveyed, defeats its own object. It may well be
doubted that any one reader of the magazine is either so igno-
rant of the truth or so blinded by prejudice as to believe that

l8 95-] THE RENAISSANCE PONTIFFS. 369,

the Roman Catholic Church ever taught the doctrine of the per-
sonal impeccability of the Sovereign Pontiffs. Every educated
person knows that over and over again has it been solemnly
affirmed that human weakness is the common inheritance of the
ecclesiastic and the layman, and no Pope that ever reigned that
did not confess his human frailties as a penitent just the same
as the humblest layman in the church. But whilst so much is
freely admitted, the monstrous assertions tacked on to this vul-

JULIUS II.

gar sneer about the sole agents and purveyors of salvation can-
not be suffered to go unchallenged. If a particular Pope were
named one might be able to pin the writer to the sources of
his libel, but as a general charge is made it is necessary to
meet it by a general defence.

VAGUENESS OF THE ORIGINAL ATTACKS.

During the dismal period of the great Western Schism, and
all through the still more disastrous time when rival popes
VOL. LXI. 24

370 PERSONAL CHARACTER OF [June,

claimed the allegiance of the faithful, many scandalous charges
were circulated, mostly anonymously, against different claimants
of the Pontifical chair. Things of this kind, done in the heat of
a partisan struggle, carry no weight whatever. In a good many
cases they were formally withdrawn, as in the case of the Coun-
cil of Basle and Pope Eugene IV. No honest historians have
taken such loose charges seriously. Even in the case of the
Pontiff against whom the imputations of a scandalous life take
the most definite shape, Alexander VI., much that is charged
is clouded with such doubt, and is interwoven with so much
that is merely legendary, that chroniclers who have sought for
truth rather than literary notoriety have hesitated to accept the
stories of the Italian writers on the Papacy. The crimes of
Caesar Borgia were not those of the Pope, who seemed to have
stood himself in fear of his terrible son.

But whatever be the truth with regard to Alexander VI.,
he is the only one who approaches in any way the monstrous
ideal of the writer in Harper s ; and, moreover, he is fairly out-
side the period, loosely as it is indicated, embraced in the
indictment, as he reigned only in the closing years of the fif-
teenth century and the opening ones of the sixteenth. It is
manifestly only fair that the Pope's living so much beyond
Joan's period should be omitted, and the century referred to
by the writer made to include some Popes who lived a little
before the end of the fourteenth included as contemplated by
the author when drawing up the indictment.

FOES WITHIN AND WITHOUT THE CHURCH.

It is unquestionably true that the period spoken of was a
critical one for the church. The gates of hell had been long
sending forth its legionaries to undermine the Rock of Peter
or take it by escalade. Corruption and worldliness in many
places had resulted from the contact of the church with the
state. There had arisen a revival of pagan literature and pagan
art, and this had infected not only the lay mind but penetrated
even to the Papal court and the ranks of the higher ecclesias-
tics. Pagan philosophy was found to be a bad yoke-fellow with
Christian purity, and the result of the adoption of the elegant
epicureanism of the ancients by the higher classes was a loosen-
ing of morals in the religious life as well as in the secular. A
powerful contributory agent to such a deplorable position was
the long struggle over the central authority. When different
Popes claimed to be the lawful successors of St. Peter, the

1895.] THE RENAISSANCE PONTIFFS. 371

minds of men became uncertain and the foundations of faith
began to tremble. With the doubt and distraction that clouded
the moral world all through the long period of the Western
Schism and the contentions for the Papacy, it is matter for
wonder that any vestige of the original faith of Christianity
remained to transmit the light to the succeeding ages. There
was a mysterious veil over the workings of Heaven in the

LEO X.

church. The cries of anguish which went up from souls fearful
for the outcome were laden with the weight of despair.
Catholic historians no less than Protestant and infidel have pic-
tured and deplored the miserable plight of religion in that cheer-
less time. But none of those historians have ventured to assert
that all the daimants to the Papal chair were men of crime
and scandalous life. Bitterly hostile as the chief Protestant
historians have been toward the Papacy, they have not been

372 PERSONAL CHARACTER OF [June,

so indifferent to their own reputation as to endeavor to blacken
the character of men confessedly great and blameless, nor
ungenerous enough to deny that often they proved the only
safeguard for an imperilled moral law or public safety or inter-
national right.

ENDEAVORS TO ENSLAVE THE PAPACY.

Of the general relations of the Popes to the temporal
princes, after the downfall of the Roman Empire, the German
historian, Ranke, whose prejudices could not altogether over-
come his judgment as a philosophic reviewer, thus writes :

" There was a principle inherent in the ecclesiastical constitu-
tion which opposed itself to a secular influence so widely ex-
tended " (viz., the authority of the German Emperor, Henry III.),
" and this would inevitably make itself felt should the church be-
come strong enough to bring it into effectual action. There is
also, it appears to me, an inconsistency in the fact that the
Pope should exercise on all sides the supreme spiritual power
and yet remain himself subjected to the emperor. . . . The
Pope might have been prevented, by his subordination to the
emperor, from performing the duties imposed on him by his
office as common father of the faithful."

Taking still higher ground, on the effects of the leavening of
the Roman Church system in the incipient civilization of the
Middle Ages, the same eminent authority says :

" The task of bending the refractory spirit of the northern
tribes to the pure laws of Christian truth was no light one ;
wedded as these nations were to their long-cherished supersti-
tions, the religious element required a long predominance before
it could gain entire possession of the German character ; but by
this predominance that close union of Latin and German ele-
ments was effected on which is based the character of Europe
in later times. There is a spirit of community in the modern
world which has always been regarded as the basis of its pro-
gressive improvement, whether in religion, politics, manners,
social life, or literature. To bring about this community, it was
necessary that the Western nations should, at one period, con-
stitute what may be called a single politico-ecclesiastical state."

Many other passages might be cited' to show that not only
was it by virtue of the absolute necessity for a free and un-
shackled power for justice as against brute force that the Popes
struggled for supremacy, but by virtue of the natural law of
progress and international development. Europe for many

1 89 5.] THE RENAISSANCE PONTIFFS. 373

centuries was little more than a vast camp of armed robbers, so
to speak, until the forces which the church had set in motion
began slowly to mould the chaotic mass into shapes of order
and outlines of political life. There was no restraining influence
over the savage passions of men, no protection for the weak,
no citadel for virtue, but the spiritual power which was trans-
mitted straight from Christ to Peter and his successors.

HALLAM'S SCALE OF MORAL TURPITUDE.

Hallam, the English Protestant historian, whose references to
the Papacy are characterized by no spirit of philosophy or
charity, but by the narrowest rancor of a Scottish Covenanter,
does not dare to allege any such extraordinary crime against
any of the legitimate or pseudo-Popes as the writer in Harper's
imputes. Only two of the Popes of that century are singled
out by him for strong animadversion. These are John XXII.
and Alexander VI. The crime which distinguished the former,
in Hallam's eyes, was avarice ; Alexander was tainted with
licentious prodigality ; and this species of immorality in
Hallam's eyes is not quite so reprehensible as the other. He
sums up his review of the fifteenth century Popes by this loose
and indiscriminate indictment against the whole body :

" Men generally advanced in years, and born of noble
Italian families, made the Papacy subservient to the elevation of
their kindred or to the interests of a local faction. For such
ends they mingled in the dark conspiracies of that bad age,
distinguished only by the more scandalous turpitude of their
vices from the petty tyrants and intriguers with whom they
were engaged. In the latter part of the fifteenth century,
when all favorable prejudices were worn away, those who occu-
pied the most conspicuous station in Europe disgraced their
name by the most notorious profligacy that could be paral-
leled in the darkest age that had preceded."

Here in this latter sentence we have words so nearly identi-
cal with some of the phrases in Harper's as to suggest that the
writer had Hallam before him as he penned his charge. But it
will be noticed that he goes on to indicate darkly what Hallam
did not dare to insinuate with all his will to do it.

Let us now turn from the paltry spite of these pettifogging
writers to the testimony of more generous but incomparably
more able enemies. Ranke was capable of appreciating the dif-
ficulties of exalted men dealing in their day with the most seri-
ous political complications of a period of international transi-

374

PERSONAL CHARACTER OF

[June,

tion and dynastic intrigue, incessant and universal. Hear what
he says about one of the Popes included in the frightful accu-
sations of Hallam and the Harper's writer :

STRAITS OF A GREAT MILITANT PONTIFF.

" There has doubtless been justice in the complaints raised
against the exactions of Rome during the fifteenth century, but
it is also true that of the proceeds a small part only passed in-

SlXTUS V.

to the hands of the Pope. Pius II. enjoyed the obedience of
all Europe, yet he once suffered so extreme a dearth of money
that he was forced to restrict his household and himself to one
meal a day. The two hundred thousand ducats required for the
Turkish war that he was meditating had to be borrowed ; and
those petty expedients, adopted by many Popes, of demanding
from a prince, a bishop, or a grand-master who might have
some cause before the court, the gift of a gold cup filled with

1895-] THE RENAISSANCE PONTIFFS. 375

ducats, or a present of rich furs, only show the depressed and
wretched condition of their resources."

THE POPES AND THE ROMAN BANDITTI.

Pope Sixtus IV. is set down as the first of the Pontiffs who
enlarged the boundaries of the Papal States by taking posses-
sion of the territory of several petty nobles ; but, observes
Ranke, " There is a certain internal connection between the fact
that at this period the temporal princes were regularly seeking
possession of the Papal privileges, and the circumstance that
enterprises partly secular now began to occupy the most earnest
attention of the Pope. He felt himself, above all, an Italian
prince."

Ranke ingeniously suppresses the fact that the petty nobles
in Rome and its neighborhood in those days were incorrigible
banditti. It required a man of courage to deal with such des-
peradoes at times. The first act of Sixtus V., after he was
elected, was to provide for the safety of his people by hanging
four of the noble ruffians who had dared to violate his ordi-
nances. His subsequent struggle with gangs of banditti who
had long terrorized Rome forms one of the most vivid chapters
in modern history.

PALTRY-MINDED CONSTITUTIONALISTS.

But it is not alone in the suggestio falsi that Hallam and
the Harper's writer sin ; respectable Protestant authorities prove
that the suppressio veri is none the less flagrant. Three or four
of the Popes of this epoch stand out prominently as worthy of
their lofty station. The names of Martin V., Nicholas V., and
Leo X. are famous in the annals of the Papacy. Martin V. was
confronted with the herculean task of healing the ravages which
the great schism caused throughout .the church universal. His
private character was above reproach. Hallam is obliged to
mention the name of this Pontiff once or twice in the course of
his history ; he makes no charge against him, neither does he
eulogize his character. Is it that the historian is incapable of
appreciating virtue, or unwilling to mete out justice ? The lan-
guage with which he closes his survey of the decline of Papal
influence in Italy is inductive evidence of his mental unfitness
to approach such a subject, or even to remotely grasp the spirit
and significance of many of the mighty events comprehended in
his panoramic review. The last sentence may be taken as a
specimen :

376 PERSONAL CHARACTER OF [June,

" Those who know what Rome has been are best able to ap-
preciate what she is; those who have seen the thunderbolt in
the hands of the Gregorys and the Innocents will hardly be in-
timidated at the sallies of decrepitude, the impotent dart of
Priam amidst the crackling ruins of Troy."

Mr. Hallam was a great " constitutionalist." His animus
against the Papacy arose from the resistance which that august
authority always offered to the endeavors of the English crown,
and other crowns, to subject the church and its mundane head
to the power of unconstitutional monarchs. The fact that those
monarchs were mostly persons destitute of any moral character
does not seem to be worth mentioning in such a history. But
if it be the private life of a Pope or a claimant of the Papacy,
the matter is of quite a different character. This is the " his-
torical temper " of most of the English writers who have
treated of this difficult subject. Lord Macaulay is an honorable
exception. Though he hated the Papacy, he frequently did
ample justice to the piety, the wisdom, and the scholarly attri-
butes of the men who filled the Papal chair at great crises in
the world's history.

RANKE'S CLOSE RESEARCHES.

But Professor Ranke had better opportunities of learning the
truth about the various Popes than any of the other historians.
He spent a long time in Rome, in Venice, and other parts of
Italy hunting through the rich stores of MSS. dealing with the
various epochs which the great Italian houses connected with
past Popes carefully preserve. He was freely allowed to exam-
ine the Barberini collection, also that of the Corsini palace, and
the Venetian archives. He seems somewhat surprised at the per-
fect liberty accorded a Protestant in this regard, judging from
his prefatory observations. Many of the documents he went
through were never intended for public use, he informs us, and
consequently they spoke more freely about great personages and
events than otherwise would have been the case. It is to be re-
marked that with all this mass of gossip and rumor and fact at
his disposal unreservedly, Ranke does not make any specific
charge of the nature hinted at in this terrible indictment in Har-
per's against any of the Popes. He advances nothing stronger
than the vague and shapeless accusations mentioned above. What-
ever scandal-mongering went on about these matters, they were
never made the subject of serious investigation. We have only
to look at what is going on in our own day to find an explana-

I895-]

THE RENAISSANCE PONTIFFS.

377

tion of such stories. Men occupying high station have from time
immemorial been subjected to slanderous attack for the basest
motives pelf or the gratification of private spleen. It is not in
every case that the objects of such attacks take the trouble to
publicly refute them, as President Cleveland courageously did a
short time ago when a false charge of habitual intoxication was

INNOCENT X.

made against him by a cleric who valued sensationalism more
than the sanctity of truth.

AN IMPARTIAL HISTORIAN'S TESTIMONY.

Professor Alzog, of the University of Freiburg, who, although
a Catholic historian, exposes the abuses of the church with un-
sparing hand, testifies to the purity of life and nobility of char-
acter of Pope Martin V., one of those implicated in the sweep-
ing assertion of the Harper s writer. His testimony is indisput-
able, inasmuch as he blames with impartial hand the vices of

378 PERSONAL CHARACTER OF [June,

others of the Avignon Popes, or Pope-pretenders, such as John
XXIII. At the same time he points out how the testimony on
this point is conflicting, and the circumstances under which
charges of a damaging character are put forward furnish a
ground for suspicion of their bona fides. The feud between
Sixtus IV. and the Medici family furnishes a very striking illus-
tration of this point. The admirers of Lorenzo de' Medici
have not hesitated to implicate the Pope in the conspiracy
of the Pazzi, a shocking tragedy in the course of which Giulano
de' Medici was assassinated, an archbishop was hung, and sev-
eral priests despatched without trial. It is pointed out that
one of the assassins of the Pazzi testified before execution that
the Pope was at the head of the conspiracy, but we must remem-
ber that in those days " confessions " of this kind were wrung from
prisoners on the rack or otherwise under torture, and were often
retracted as soon as the physical agony which compelled them
had subsided. Italian history of this period is painful reading.
It is one mournful chapter of intrigue, treachery, sensuality, and
revenge. It is largely written by men who were partisans of
the various factions, and must be taken with the greatest caution.

LORD MACAULAY ON THE CHARACTER OF ONE OF THESE POPES.

Of Nicholas . V.-, the august promoter of the classical revival
of the fifteenth century, the late Lord " Macaulay used these re-
markable words in 1850 at Glasgow University:

"At this conjunction a conjunction of unrivalled interest in
the history of letters a man never to be mentioned without
reverence by every lover of letters held the highest place in
Europe. Our just attachment to that Protestant faith to which
our country owes so much must not prevent us from paying
the tribute which, on this occasion and in this place, justice
and gratitude demand to the founder of the University of Glas-
gow, the greatest of the restorers of learning, Pope Nicholas V.
He had sprung from the common people, but his abilities and
his erudition early attracted the notice of the great. He had
studied much and travelled far. He had visited Britain, which,
in wealth and refinement, was to his native Tuscany what the
back settlements of America now are to Britain. He had lived
with the merchant princes of Florence those men who first
ennobled trade by making trade the ally of philosophy, of elo-
quence, and of taste. It was he who, under the munificent
and discerning Cosmo, arranged the first public library that
modern Europe possessed. From privacy your founder rose to

i8 9 5.]

THE RENAISSANCE PONTIFFS.

379

a throne, but on the throne he never forgot the studies which
had been his delight in privacy. He was the centre of an
illustrious group, composed partly of the last great scholars of
Greece, and partly of the first great scholars of Italy. By him
was founded the Vatican Library, then and long after the most
precious and most extensive collection of books in the world.
By him- were carefully preserved the most valuable intellectual
treasures which had been snatched from the wreck of the
Byzantine Empire. His agents were to be found everywhere,
in the bazaars of the farthest East, in the monasteries of the
farthest West, purchasing or copying worm-eaten parchments on
which were traced words worthy of immortality. Under his
patronage were prepared accurate Latin versions of many pre-
cious remains of Greek poets and philosophers. But no depart-
ment of literature owed so much to him as history. By him
were introduced to the knowledge of Western Europe two great
and unrivalled historical compositions the works of Herodotus
and of Thucydides. By him, too, our ancestors were first made
acquainted with the graceful and lucid simplicity of Xenophon,
and with the manly good sense of Polybius."

We have now shown what historians whose reputation is
world-wide have said and left unsaid of several of the Pontiffs
who have been held up to execration by the unknown writer in
Harper's Magazine. We might add that were it not for the
efforts of some of them, the work of the Moslem might have
been completed and Europe given over to the swords and the
harems of the desolators of Greece and Armenia. Judging men
of such a kind by the microscopic eyes of jealousy is not the
mark of intellectual capacity.

380 FATHER HECKER AND THE ESTABLISHING OF [June,

FATHER HECKER AND THE ESTABLISHING OF
THE POOR CLARES IN THE UNITED STATES.

BY REV. S. B. HEDGES.

HEY who have carefully read chapters nineteen
and twenty-seven of Father Elliott's Life of
Father Hecker will in no way be surprised to
learn how deeply Father Hecker was interested
in the establishment of the Order of Poor Clares
a purely contemplative order in the United States. Father
Elliott remarks that Father Hecker was of the opinion that
there was need amongst us of that higher spirituality which
comes from contemplation, and that in this opinion he was in
accord with some of the best minds in the church to-day.
That this is true may be evidenced by the following words of
Cardinal Manning : " It was in the midst of commercial and
luxurious Italy that St. Francis arose to bear witness against
greed, and sensuality, and selfishness ; and to set fire to the
heart of the world cold in self-indulgence. It is to commercial
and luxurious England that the Seraphic Order comes once
more. It came in our thirteenth century, when England was
sick with worldliness, and the lot of the poor was hard ; it
comes again in the last days of the nineteenth century, when
the wealth of England is piled mountains high upon a toiling
and suffering people. The gulfs and chasms which divide our
classes and threaten the peace of our commonwealth can be
closed only by the humility and charity of Jesus Christ." How
akin Father Hecker's thoughts and very words were to those of
Cardinal Manning we shall presently see, when the four short
letters of Father Hecker to Sister Maria Maddalena are presented.
The history of the establishment of a religious community
in any new field of labor is invariably the same, and may be
written in a few short words : poverty, disappointment, failure,
death, and at last success at the hands often of others than
those who initiated the work.

Nor do we find the establishment of the Poor Clares in the
United States any exception to the general rule. Indeed, we
cannot but admire the undaunted courage of the two Italian
ladies who came here to accomplish this work. The blessing

1 895.] THE POOR CLARES IN THE UNITED STATES. 381

which Pius IX. imparted to them on their leaving Rome seems
to have had in it the power of efficacy. Less worthy of their
great vocation, they would have returned to St. Lawrence in
Panisperna, at Rome, disheartened, acknowledging themselves
beaten and their mission a failure. But not so these daughters
of St. Clare. After three long years of hope deferred, at last,
in the far North-west, did they come to see their work inaugur-
ated, and finally firmly and permanently established, and from
St. Clare's Monastery at Omaha to one of the very places
where they had previously experienced failure has gone forth a
colony of Poor Clares.

The history of the Clares in the United States up to the
time of their permanent foundation at Omaha, Nebraska, from
facts set forth in the annals of St. Clare's Monastery, is a nar-
rative of much suffering and many wanderings.

The Monastery of St. Lawrence in Panisperna, with its great
Church of St. Lawrence Martyr, situated on the Viminal hill,
one of the seven hills on which the Eternal City is built, is
erected over the ruins of the palace of the Emperor Valerian.
Over the arches of a semi-amphitheatre were built the cells of
the nuns who from the time of the thirteenth century to the
present day have passed their lives there in prayer, contempla-
tion, and penance. This place was first tenanted by Benedictine
monks, but was given to the nuns of St. Clare a short time
after the death of the seraphic St. Francis, and while the
glorious Mother St. Clare was still living. It was here in this
great Church of St. Lawrence that Monsignor Giacchino Pecci
was consecrated archbishop on February 19, 1843. From the
same Monastery of St. Lawrence, in Panisperna, on the I2th of
August, 1875, in obedience to his Holiness Pope Pius IX., and
to the Most Rev. Father Minister-General of the whole Fran-
ciscan Order, residing in Ara Cceli, Rome, Sister Maria Madda-
lena and Sister Maria Costanza Bentivoglio, set forth to come
to the United States. Before leaving Rome the two sisters had
an audience with the Holy Father. During the audience he
addressed to them the following words : " When St. Mary
Magdalen arrived at Marseilles after the death of our Lord,
she found herself alone and without consolation. Thereupon
she betook herself to a grotto, and penetrating deeply into its
recesses she gave herself up to prayer and contemplation. She
begged of Almighty God to deign to enlighten the minds of
the people of Marseilles with the light of Divine Truth. You
too, my dear children, are to go to a distant country to engage
in a life of contemplation and prayer. You will find in your new

382 FATHER HECKER AND THE ESTABLISHING OF [June,

home men of great wealth, men devoted to traffic and specu-
lation, interested in all things material, and looking forward
for temporal advantages. You will not find much asceticism,
and but little interest in things spiritual. My dear children,
you must, with detachment from all earthly things, be to the
people of your new home an example that will k be a silent
teaching. Your lives, devoted to prayer and union with God,
will make known to many souls that true happiness is not
found in material and temporal things. In communing with
your Celestial Spouse, our Divine Lord, you will find light,
comfort, consolation, and compensation for all the privations
which for his love you take upon yourselves. You will obtain,
too, the grace of many a conversion." Then his Holiness,
turning towards Dr. Chatard, rector of the American College in
Rome, who was present at the audience, he said : " In this way
will be consoled the friends of Father Rector, who has so
deeply interested himself in the success of this work." Then
the Holy Father gave them each a medal of the Immaculate
Conception and his blessing, saying : " May this blessing accom-
pany and strengthen you to perseverance, and be to you a
promise of a crown of glory in eternity."

The two Poor Clares left Rome on the I4th of August,
1875, in company with the Rev. Mother Ignatius Hayes, supe-
rioress of the Sisters of the Third Order of St. Francis, and of a
Franciscan father who was appointed by the Most Rev. Father-
General, according to the expressed desire of the Holy Father,
to accompany them. They reached New York on the I2th of
October, 1875. Some time after the sisters received a letter in-
structing them to make application to his Eminence Cardinal
McCloskey for admission to his diocese, which they accordingly
did. But their application was refused. They then made appli-
cation to the Most Rev. Archbishop of Cincinnati, who also re-
fused. Then they made application to the Most Rev. Arch-
bishop of Philadelphia, who encouraged them to hope that they
might ultimately be received into his diocese. Accordingly, on
the ii-th of October, 1876, they established themselves in
West Philadelphia. However, on the 27th of October it
was intimated to them that their stay in the archdiocese was
not to be permanent, as it was thought that their institute was
not in accord with the spirit of the country. Accordingly they
left Philadelphia on the 29th of November, 1876. In the
meantime they had been received into the diocese of New
Orleans by the Most Rev. Archbishop Perch6. Having set forth
for their new destination, they arrived at New Orleans on the

1895.] THE POOR CLARES IN THE UNITED STATES. 383

I4th of March, 1877. But they were not destined to remain
here. In obedience to the Very Rev. Father Jankenette, O.S.F.,
minister-provincial of the German province of the Sacred Heart,
St. Louis, Mo., they left New Orleans for Cleveland, O., where
they were received by the Right Rev. Bishop Gilmour. On the
I4th of December, 1877, they were joined at Cleveland by five
Poor Clare sisters from Germany. But the wanderings of Sister
Maria Maddalena and Sister Maria Costanza Bentivoglio had
not yet come to an end. Seeking a permanent foundation, they
returned to New York on the 3d of March, 1878. On August
15, 1878, the third anniversary of their departure from Rome,
they set forth for Omaha, Neb., where they had been received
by the Right Rev. James O'Connor as religious of his diocese
on this condition, that some pious and good benefactor would
establish for them a monastery. This benefactor they found in
the person of Mr. J. A. Cr'eighton, who gave to their institute
six acres of land, built their monastery, and, through the mercy
of God, his charity towards them has never ceased and has had
no limit. Since the year 1878 the Poor Clares have been es-
tablished in the City of Omaha. Thus has been accomplished the
end for which Pius IX. sent them to the United States, viz., the
manifestation of the contemplative life in this active,busy Republic.
When Sister 'Maria Maddalena came face to face with the
trials and difficulties which are incident to the establishment of
a new religious community she sought out Father Hecker for
advice and spiritual consolation. How generously Father Hec-
ker gave both the one and the other we may infer from his
letters. Sister Maria Maddalena, referring to his letter of Sep-
tember 16, 1876, says: "In the letter of September 16, where
he says ' but the end of your difficulties has not come to pass,
etc., etc./ he seems to have written in prophecy. These words
were verified, for he had a foresight of the future trials which
we were to undergo. In fact, the whole of this letter seems to
have been a prophecy." And here we present Father Hecker's
letters to the notice of the reader. Brief as they are, they fully
indicate Father Hecker's mind in regard to the contemplative
life. There is one passage in the letter of March 28 worthy of
special consideration. It is this : " There are those who believe
that our century, and above all our country, is antagonistic to
this kind of life ; as to the forms of its expression, this may,
to some extent, be true. But my most intimate conviction is,
that not only the gift of contemplation is necessary to these,
but God will not fail to bestow this grace on certain elect souls
in our day, and precisely among us. It is the only counter*

384 FATHER HECKER AND THE ESTABLISHING OF [June,

weight that can keep this headlong activity of our generation
from ending in irreligion and its own entire destruction." How
singularly confirmative are the words of Cardinal Manning, al-
ready quoted, which were written some years after, of these ex-
pressions of Father Hecker. And here we present the letters
themselves :

"JULY 20, 1876.

" DEAR SISTER MAGDELINE : Your letter shows clearly that
God has taken your affairs in his own hands. He leaves you
fio human prospect whatever. Every door appears- shut against
you. Ipse faciet. O blessed obscurity which forces the soul to
look for light and guidance to God alone ! O blessed perplexity
which throws the soul in entire dependence on God ! This is
the real contemplative life.

" Do you not believe that the Holy Spirit could change and
would change the minds and hearts of those to whom you have
appealed, were it best to do so ? That he does not, is not this,
his not doing, also a sign of his divine action and a mark of
his favor ?

" There appears only one thing left for you to do, and that is
to profit by this divine action. But how ? Why, as often as
your mind is disturbed, and your heart grows faint, take some
pills made in equal parts of the following ingredients : Resigna-
tion, Patience, and Fidelity to the Divine Will.

" Who knows but after all it may be the will of Divine Provi-
dence that when you have learned, by your present trials, the
greatest of all lessons in spiritual life, absolute dependence upon
God, utterly regardless of all else whatsoever, you will find the
intention and purpose for which you undertook your voyage is
the one he has appointed for your first work in this country.

" May the light to see, and the strength to follow at all costs,
the holy will of God be imparted to our souls !
" Faithfully yours in Xto,

" I. T. HECKER.
" God bless you and your sister ! "

"NEW YORK, September 16, 1876.

" MY DEAR SISTERS : I have been absent for some time, and
this is the only reason why your former letter has not received
an answer.

" God has rewarded your resignation and patience, but the
end of your difficulties has not come to pass. You have the
task of laying the foundation of a community of St. Clare such

1895.] THE POOR CLARES IN THE UNITED STATES. 385

as will approve itself to God and your holy Foundress. May
the Holy Spirit be your guide in this important task !

" My intention was to leave for Philadelphia on Monday next,
and I had hoped to see you there and congratulate you. If
you will be in Philadelphia before the close of the week, send
me word, at my usual address, at once.

" When in Philadelphia, where I have some friends, I will not
forget you and your requests in your former letter.

" May God bless you both with the fulness of his Spirit, until
you become great saints and the models of all those who may
be called to your new community.

" Believe me ever yours faithfully,

" I. T. HECKER."

"November 4, 1876.

" MY DEAR SISTERS IN XTO : No, no ; I do not smile at
the contents of your letter. I sympathize with you, and see in
your apparent misfortune the hand of Divine Providence.
That hand seems to me to direct you to that point for which
you left Rome.

"Your holy founder, St. Clare, is not idle in this matter; she
is determined on making you in reality, as well as in name, her
children.

"She began in the way of the Cross, and she wishes you to
follow her in imitation of our crucified Lord and Saviour.

"Take up your cross. Take it up cheerfully, looking to Jesus,
Mary, and St. Clare, and all will be right in the end. There where
you have been rejected you will in due season return in triumph.

" Go where you were sent. You will be received warmly,
and do God's work.

" God bless you, give you courage, and direct you in all
your steps. Faithfully yours,

"I. T. HECKER."

" 278 MADISON AVENUE, NEW YORK,

March 28, 1877.

" MY DEAR SISTERS : It was with great pleasure that I re-
ceived your letter of the 4th of this month, and learned that
you were to be settled in New Orleans under Archbishop Perche.
" It seems to me you have now obtained all the conditions
most favorable to the accomplishment of your design in coming
to the United States. It now rests with you to make the
beautiful flower of divine contemplation take root in the vir-
ginal soil of the church in our young Republic.
VOL. LXI. 25

386 FATHER HECKER AND THE POOR CLARES. [June,

" I cannot conceive a nobler design, a greater work, and one
fraught with more precious fruits.

" It will be my constant prayer that God may give you the
grace of receiving the spirit of your holy foundress, St. Clare,
and be the nucleus of gathering together those souls on whom
God has bestowed the vocation of contemplative life.

" There are those who believe that our century, and above
all our country, is antagonistic to this kind of life ; as to the
forms of its expression, this may to some extent be true.
But my most intimate conviction is, that not only the gift of
contemplation is necessary to these, but God will not fail to
bestow this grace on certain elect souls in our day, and pre-
cisely among us. It is the only counterweight that can keep
this headlong activity of our generation from ending in irre-
ligion and its own entire destruction.

" I trust that the trials, the mortifications and disappoint-
ments which you have received since your arrival here, have
served to deepen the conviction in your souls of the high voca-
tion to which you have been called, and, like that of your holy
Foundress, your names will be held in benediction in common
with hers in the future of the church in our beloved country.

" May God's Holy Spirit guide you always and in all things.

" Faithfully yours,

" I. T. HECKER."

Omaha is one of the fairest cities of the North-west. It is
beautifully situated on the bluffs of the Missouri River. From
September to January it has a climate of unsurpassed geniality
and beauty. One glorious day of sunshine follows another
without interruption. And here is situated St. Clare's Monastery,
wherein is the novitiate of the Poor Clares. Necessarily the
vocations to the contemplative life are few. It is only the
more chosen souls that God calls to this holy state. And
therefore the novitiate is a small one ; and yet St. Clare's has
sent forth its first colony. The monastery is a plain, unpreten-
tious brick building, without architectural design or beauty.
The spirit of poverty everywhere prevails in and about the
building. The utter bareness of its little parlor indicates that
here indeed is holy poverty practised most faithfully. Here
may be learned what Father Hecker calls the greatest of all
lessons in the spiritual life, " absolute dependence upon God
utterly regardless of all else whatsoever."

1895.] DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. 387
DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION.

BY REV. GEORGE M. SEARLE, C.S.P.

. DR. HEBER NEWTON, in a sermon preached
a few weeks ago, expressed some opinions about
the Resurrection which created quite a sensation
and have been quite widely discussed and com-
mented on. They seem, strangely enough, to
have been considered as original with him ; in point of fact, how-
ever, they are quite familiar to any one acquainted with modern
liberal Christianity, so called, though it is probable that those
who entertained them a few years ago have now, by a natural
progress, arrived at a complete disbelief in the fundamental
point of faith which they attack. Similar notions were also en-
tertained, and condemned as heresies, in the early ages of the
church. The only reason or excuse which can be given for
noticing them now is the attention which they have so unde-
servedly attracted.

The principal idea broached by Dr. .Newton is that the body
of Christ did not really rise from the tomb, that in which he
showed himself to his apostles being only something made in its
likeness. As to what became of the body which was laid in
the sepulchre, the doctor is prudently non-committal. It would
appear that he holds the Christian faith so far as to believe
that the body there deposited was a real human body like our
own ; but of course any belief of a thinker of this progressive
type might vary from Sunday to Sunday, so that it hardly
seems necessary to be very particular on this point. At any
rate, he is reported to have said : " Some one will ask me what,
then, became of the body ? But I am too reverent to speculate
about what became of that sacred temple of the Divine Spirit.
I leave all such irreverent speculations to higher ecclesiastical
authorities."

It must be confessed that it is rather hard to see at first
just where the irreverence in this speculation comes in. If the
original theory is not irreverent, it is not very evident why
irreverence should be involved in the examination of questions
so intimately connected with it. But it is no doubt an excellent
plan to thus ward off criticism. Here at least, if nowhere else,
our reverend and reverent theorist may indeed lay some claim
to originality.

388 DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. [June,

If we look squarely at the matter, undeterred by this warn-
ing, we see of course that the theory that Christ did not raise
his body from the tomb, assuming it again to himself, implies
since it is not held that it remained there either that it was
removed thence by some human agency, or that it was dis-
posed of by the power or direction of God in some miraculous
way. We may safely say by the power of God, for we are
talking to Christians, and for such no other power outside of
the natural order can be admissible in this case.

The first of these is the most obvious supposition, and was
the one adopted for use at the time by the enemies of Christ.
He had, as we all know, distinctly predicted his resurrection ;
the chief priests and the Pharisees were aware of this, and knew
also that what was understood by this among the Jews was a
resurrection, like that in the case of Lazarus, of the actual body
which had died. Assuming them to have really believed that
this was impossible, or indeed even in the interests of truth it-
self though they were not much in earnest about that it was
reasonable enough for them to take the precautions which they
did to prevent the abstraction of Christ's body from the tomb
by his disciples. If they could keep it there, his prediction was
a failure.

When they found they could not keep it there, in spite of
their precautions, there was but one resource, which they of
course adopted. They bribed the guard which had been set to
watch at the sepulchre to say that they had fallen asleep. Of
course they could not, without absurdity, testify positively that the
body had been stolen while they slept ; but such an explanation
of its disappearance had then all the probability which was needed.

Obviously, this explanation cannot be given by any Christian
without what would very rightly be called irreverence. For
certainly it would be such to suspect the disciples of a trick
like this, and still more to imagine Christ as having directed
them, or any one of them, to perform it. And it seems to
be this which Dr. Newton is shirking when he says he is too
reverent to speculate about the matter. It may not be too
much, however, taking into account his general proclivities,
to suspect that he really inclines to this view of the case ; for,
if he did not, it would naturally occur to him to suggest the
only other available alternative, mentioned above. Probably
what he really means is that he is too reverent to the " higher
ecclesiastical authorities " to speculate about it out aloud.

Enough has already been said to show that we cannot, if we
wish to remain Christians in any proper sense of the term,

1895.] DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. 389

doubt that Christ actually raised his body, the one in which he
had lived and was crucified, from the tomb. If the apostles
abstracted it themselves, their whole preaching was an im-
posture ; if it was taken by some one else without their know-
ledge, or otherwise disposed of by the power of God, Christ
would certainly have instructed them about it, and not allowed
them to preach a lie to the world. We simply have to reject
Christianity as a divine revelation if the Resurrection is not
true in the sense the church has held and taught it ; that is
plain enough ; though it must be acknowledged in behalf of Dr.
Newton that he is not the first who has failed to acknowledge
this; and perhaps many have failed even to see it.

It has just been said that Christ would have instructed the
apostles if they were mistaken, and prevented them from preach-
ing as they did. But we need not depend on such an argument
as this, good as it is. For we have the most distinct statements
from the evangelists that he took special care that they should
understand that there was no mistake about the identity of his
risen body with that which had suffered on the cross. No one
can rationally put any other interpretation on his words as re-
corded by St. Luke, on the occasion of his appearance to the
Apostles on the evening of the first Easter. They did not at
first believe it was really his body which they saw ; " they being
troubled and affrighted, supposed that they saw a spirit. And
he said to them : Why are you troubled and why do thoughts
arise in your hearts ? See my hands and my feet, that it is I
myself ; feel, and see ; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as
you see me to have " (Luke xxiv. 3739). And St. John, as
we all know, tells us how, as St. Thomas was not present on
the occasion just mentioned, Christ took special pains to assure
him on the next Sunday that it was really his crucified body
which had now risen. " Put in thy finger hither, and see my
hands, and bring hither thy hand, and put it into my side "
(John xx. 27).

A most remarkable statement of Dr. Newton, and one far
from creditable to him, must now be noticed. Our attention is
often drawn to statements by Protestants having some consider-
able claims to learning and a fair general reputation for
honesty, which are inconsistent with either one or the other of
these qualities. But really this seems almost to surpass all
hitherto uttered ; we cannot tell whether in the line of astound-
ing ignorance or of unblushing effrontery. The doctor is quoted
as saying : " No one believes that he (Christ) entered into the
higher life which we call heaven in the physical body. Some

390 DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. [June,

time or other, after what we call the resurrection, that physical
body was dropped, and in his spiritual body Jesus Christ passed
into the heavenly sphere.."

Is it not almost inconceivable that any sane person, pretend-
ing to know anything about Christianity, could make such a
statement as this? " No one," forsooth, believes .what over
three hundred millions of Christians believe ; no one believes
what the church has held without question from the beginning !
Is it possible that the learned doctor does not know that it is
the Catholic faith that the body of Christ which was buried
and which rose from the dead, is now in heaven ? Or knowing
this, does he have the effrontery to call the whole of Christen-
dom, with the exception of some isolated geniuses like himself,
"no one"? For Protestants have made no general protest on
this point, and if they say the Apostles' Creed, express their
belief in just this very thing. Really, this is unequalled ; it
stands out quite by itself among its kind.

But to proceed on the main line. Dr. Newton acknowledges
that the actual statements of the evangelists support the belief
in Christ's physical resurrection, and alleges no definite quota-
tion from them against it. Would it be believed that he pre-
tends to have a sufficient proof of his theory in St. Paul's
words (I. Cor. xv. 50), that " flesh and blood cannot inherit the
kingdom of God " ? But this is not to be wondered at. Heretics
have always used the Bible in this way ; they choose a text
or set of texts which can be made to support their opinion and
ignore what is inconvenient. Etymologically a heretic means a
"chooser"; and Dr. Newton is an admirable specimen of the
class. He will not even look three verses below, and read,
( v - 53) " Mi* corruptible must put on incorruption ; and this
mortal must put on immortality."

The sense is obvious, and must be so even to Dr. Newton
himself. " Flesh and blood," as it is in this mortal life, cannot
inherit the kingdom of God ; it must be raised to a higher
state, and endowed with glorious qualities, corresponding to
that state, before it can do so. These qualities are well under-
stood and defined by theologians. The chief of these are
impassibility, brightness, agility, and subtilty.

That we might realize these qualities more fully, God has
been pleased to give us numerous examples of them in the
lives of his chosen servants. As to the first, that of Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego to use the names familiar to Protes-
tants in the fiery furnace, is by no means unique. The same
thing, in one form or another, is recorded frequently in the

1 895.] DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. 391

acts of the martyrs, and was ascribed by the heathen persecu-
tors to magical arts. It has also been noted on various occa-
sions in more recent days, one instance being familiar to those
who have read the well-attested accounts of the apparition at
Lourdes. The true character of these phenomena is manifest
by the preservation of the body not only from pain but from
physical injury, as in the case of Bernadette just referred to.

The quality of brightness has also numerous illustrations.
To show that it cannot be attributed to imagination, one
instance out of many will suffice ; that, namely, of St. Andrew.
Avellino, who on one occasion when returning from a sick call
in a storm of wind and rain which extinguished the torches of
the attendants, shed a light from his body, which lit up the way.

Elevation in the air and flight through it is so well known
an occurrence in the lives of holy persons, that in many
instances it has hardly occasioned any surprise in the specta-
tors, especially in the case of saints like St. Joseph of Cuper-
tino (1603-1663), with whom it was, we may say, habitual.

The very quality which in Christ's risen life excites our
greatest wonder, that of passing through closed doors, is not
without examples among the saints, those of St. Dominic and
St. Raymond of Pennafort being perhaps the most notable.

It would be unprofitable to dilate more on this subject, as
the evidence cannot be made convincing without a very
extended treatment. The mass of it is immense ; but a great
deal of it has stood the test of most rigorous examination.

Of course it is quite possible for any one so disposed to
close his eyes and ears, to abandon reason and common sense,
and absolutely deny all this evidence, and everything else which
does not come within the range of his every-day experience. But
obviously no one can, consistently with this, hold to his belief
in the miracles of Christ, or form any theories based on the
Gospel records ; especially as Christ himself predicted that his
followers should show in their lives marvels similar to, and even
greater than his own.

And now one point especially deserves to be noted.

It is this : As has been said, there is perhaps room for doubt
whether Dr. Newton holds, like some ancient heretics, that
Christ's body was a mere illusion, not a physical body at all,
both before and after the resurrection, or keeps to the usual
and correct, as well as natural, belief that it was a true physical
and human body, at any rate in the first of these periods. If he
adopts the first view, the whole matter has no application to us,
as Christ ceases to be a man, and no conclusions as to any resur-

3Q2 DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. [June,

rection for us can be drawn from his. We ought charitably to
presume that he has the sense to see this ; and therefore give
what is also otherwise the most probable meaning to his words,
and consider him to hold that Christ had during his mortal life
a real human body. And now we must ask him to notice a
noteworthy matter, namely, that phenomena similar to those
which were observable after the resurrection were occasionally
manifested during the previous period, as, for example, in his
walking on the water, (Matt, xiv.) ; in his disappearance when
the Nazarenes were about to cast him from the precipice,
(Luke iv. 30) ; and similar occurrences, (John viii. 59 and x. 39) ;
and especially in his transfiguration. Now, if such qualities as
lightness, invisibility, and splendor were possible in a physical
and material body similar to our own, why should not the risen
body also be physical and material ?

The simple fact of the matter is that qualities of this de-
scription do not belong of right to a mortal body, but may be
and often have been as in these cases of our Lord himself, and
in those of the saints which have been referred to conferred
on it temporarily in a special and miraculous way. But they
do belong of right and continuously to a risen body, whether
that of Christ or of any one who has part in his resurrection,
though they may not be continuously manifested.

The whole ground or excuse for vagaries such as those of
Dr. Newton therefore absolutely disappears.

It only remains to inquire whether there are any necessary
and unchangeable physical laws which shut out the hypothesis
of a material body in any occurrence observed in Christ's risen
life. To this no scientific man who cares for his reputation will
presume to give an affirmative answer. He may say, indeed,
that it is contrary to his scientific experience, and to that of
the world at large, that one piece of solid matter can pass
through another without visible disturbance of either ; and this
the passing through closed doors is really the only case pre-
senting special difficulty. But if asked for a reason why this
should be so, he will probably say that the strength of the
forces binding the particles of a solid together would be the
obstacle. He must, however, acknowledge that these forces
might be modified so that such penetration would be possible ;
for, as regards mere space or room, even the usual theories of
matter allow plenty. And it is quite to the point to remember
that the corpuscular theory of light, proposed by Dr. Newton's
great namesake, though now abandoned, was never considered
absurd, and was not rejected on any such grounds ; just as

1 895.] DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. 393

electricity is even now commonly treated of as a fluid passing
through solids with great rapidity. To say that these substances
were regarded as imponderable is a futile objection ; for weight,
or in other words, subjection to and exercise of the action of
gravity is not the real test for discerning matter from spirit.
Should any one wish, however, to assert that this action is in-
separable from material substances, such an assertion, however
groundless, is not to the purpose ; for the mass may be dimin-
ished so as to be practically imperceptible. It was indeed Sir
Isaac's theory that the particles of light were subject to gravi-
tational action, but from their small mass incapable of exerting
it perceptibly.

It would evidently be simply ridiculous for any one of us,
with our very rudimentary notions of the constitution of mat-
ter, to say or to hold that a material universe is impossible
except on the laws which we have observed, or that material
substances could not exist in the present universe exhibiting
phenomena which would require a modification of the laws so
far ascertained. Even in the case of gravitation, the best
known of all, no sensible astronomer felt any absolute confi-
dence that it would be found to apply to the orbits of the
double stars.

Let us now look, to show the remarkable contrast between
the scientific and the non-scientific mind, at the ground really
the only ground on which Dr. Newton bases his objections to
the Christian dogma of the resurrection. He says that "the
language of the records, it is said " and seemingly he assents
to this " implicitly implies the resurrection of Christ's physical
body." But he remarks that "over against any such language
there is a general tenor of the description of the appearance of
Jesus. Those descriptions are of a body wholly differing in its
powers from the body which we now know. Our bodies can-
not appear and disappear at will. They cannot pass through
closed doors." It may be remarked that he does not seem to
notice that the appearing and disappearing at will was, as has
been shown, observed in Christ during his mortal life. But the
principal thing to be noticed is that he assumes that because
Christ's risen body exhibited qualities different from what we
observe in material bodies, it could not be a material body,
or at any rate not the same which he had before. As if, for-
sooth, new qualities could not be given to that body, even had
they never been previously manifested.

We all remember how the great Sir Isaac Newton confessed
after his astonishing discoveries that he was but as a child,

394 DR. HEBER NEWTON ON THE RESURRECTION. [June,

picking up pebbles on the beach, while the great ocean of truth
lay unexplored beyond. But Dr. Heber Newton is a much
superior man, and knows it all.

In what has been said some injustice may have been done
to him ; for his words have been taken from reports, not from
any document bearing his signature. But still these reports are
probably not far astray ; and it really seems as if he had not at
all understood what the dogma is that he is combating ; at least
that is the most favorable supposition that can be made. He
does not see that what Christians believe is that Christ's body
and the bodies of those who share his resurrection have glori-
ous qualities assigned to them which no one pretends they
habitually possessed in their mortal life ; how far these qualities
follow laws divinely established, or how far they are under the
control of the soul with which the risen body is reunited, is of
course unknown.

The risen body, with its new qualities or gifts, is called the
spiritual body. " It is sown," says St. Paul, " an animal body "
(" a natural body," the Protestant version has it) ; " it shall rise
a spiritual body." Dr. Newton uses the term " spiritual body,"
but does not seem to attach any very definite idea to it. It
would appear from some subsequent remarks of his that he im-
agines this body to be one that we carry about with us through
life, or that it is formed in some way at the moment of death.
" It may," he is reported as saying, " draw around itself from
the body which it leaves, or from the spiritual elements in the
encompassing ether, the elements for a new and finer material
body." This is certainly a truly scientific idea. One would
think that "spiritual elements in the ether" were quite well un-
derstood and recognized.

It is really too much to expect of us that we should try to
make sense out of such crude and random notions.

As to the Christian dogma, the sense of which is quite clear,
any one can see that the material substance of a body may
remain precisely the same, though new qualities are conferred.
The difficulties as to the reconstruction of a body out of the
particles composing it at the time of death, as well as other
considerations, have given rise to a good deal of discussion as
to just what is meant in this matter by identity ; and certainly
we do not need to use the term in its most absolute sense, in
which our living bodies do not remain the same from hour to
hour. But we have no space to enter on this subject, and this
is not the issue which Dr. Newton raises.

i895-] THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS. 395

THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS.

BY WILLIAM SETON, LL.D.

E believe we may say without fear of contradiction
that until within comparatively recent years say,
until the time of Button natural history was
studied under difficulties, and he who devoted
himself to it advanced with timid, halting steps,
as though in dread of giving offence to some venerable opinion
of his forefathers. The old idea that all the- different species
of animals and plants had been created by the Almighty just as
we see them to-day still prevailed, and, moreover, it was believed
that the creation had taken place not much more than five or
six thousand years ago. Now it is universally accepted that
millions of years have elapsed since the first living organisms
swam in the sea and crawled along the primordial beaches, while
the doctrine of evolution, or hereditary descent with progressive
modification from a few, simple original types, is commonly held
by scientific men. But the belief in the fixity of species died
hard. Lamarck, in his Philosophie Zoologique, published in 1809,
argued with much ability that species were not immutable, and
his friend Saint-Hilaire adopted Lamarck's views. But they did
not make many converts. Something was lacking in the doc-
trine of evolution to make it generally accepted ; there was no
plausible explanation of how change of species had been brought
about.

THE FORMATION OF NEW SPECIES.

And here we come to what has always seemed to us an in-
teresting and romantic fact. Two naturalists, who were likewise
friends Charles Darwin and Alfred R. Wallace were endeavor-
ing simultaneously and independently, one in England, the other
in the East Indies, to find a reasonable explanation of evolu-
tion ; and it occurred to each of them to Darwin a little sooner
than to Wallace that Natural Selection, or the survival of the
fittest, was the key to the mystery.*

* " Natural Selection can only effect the survival of characters when they have attained
some functional value. In order to secure the survival of a new character that is, of a new
type of organism it is necessary that the variation should appear in a large number of indi-
viduals coincidentally and successively. It is exceedingly probable that that is what has oc-
curred in past geologic ages. We are thus led to look for a cause which affects equally many
individuals at the same time, and continuously. Such causes are found in the changing phy-
sical conditions that have succeeded each other in the past history of our planet, and the
changes of organic function necessarily produced thereby."

See article in the American Naturalist for March, 1894, by E. D. Cope, entitled "The
Energy of Evolution."

396

THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS.

[June,

Bearing in mind that many more individuals are born than
can possibly survive ; that no two organisms are exactly alike ;
and that variations useful to the individual plant or animal un-
doubtedly occur in nature : " Is it not," they said, " highly pro-
bable that the animal or plant possessing any favorable variation
should, in the complex struggle for existence, survive, while the
one possessing a variation which is not favorable to it should
perish ? the result being the formation of a new species." We
know that man, by accumulating and preserving certain varia-
tions and applying the principle of selection, has, in a compara-
tively brief time, produced the many different kinds* of domestic
animals and plants which we see around us. Now, what man
has accomplished by means of artificial selection, Nature has no
doubt been able to accomplish in her own slow way working
through long geological periods and it is this work of Nature
which Darwin and Wallace have called natural selection. The
word Nature is here personified. Darwin says : * "I mean by
Nature only the aggregate action and product of many natural
laws, and by laws the sequence of events as ascertained by us."
And we may here remark that this idea of natural selection,
which occurred quite independently to Wallace and Darwin, has,

A GIGANTIC DINOSAUR. LENGTH 60 FEET. (" Extinct Monsters ," Rev. H. N. ffutchinson.)

by giving a momentous impetus to the theory of evolution,
wrought an effect on philosophy and science without a parallel
since the days of Aristotle.

* Origin of Species, p. 63.

1 895.]

THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS.
THE DINOSAURS.

397

Adopting, therefore, this view of God's work namely, that
it has been gradual and by means of evolution what can be

GROUP OF SMALL FLYING DRAGONS. PTERODACTYLS.

more interesting than to stroll through the wonderland of Nature
and to try and discover the numberless forms slowly making
their appearance one after the other through the different geo-
logical ages a many-branching tree and to try and trace the
mutual affinities of extinct and living forms ? Far back in the
triassic era, for instance, there lived an order of reptiles
known as Dinosaurs. There were many species of this long ex-
tinct order.

Some were quite small, while others, such as the Atlantasau-
rus, discovered by Professor Marsh in the Rocky Mountains, are
computed to have attained a length of from eighty to one hun-
dred feet. And this age is sometimes called the age of reptiles.
The dinosaurs possessed certain characters which linked them
closely to mammals as well as to birds. Their limb bones were
hollow ; they did not crawl as reptiles usually do, but walked
erect with a free step, while some walked on their hind legs
alone.

Along with the dinosaurs lived another interesting reptile
called the Pterodactyl. It had wings probably leathery wings
like a bat and a long tail, and one species could expand the
tip of its tail, so as to make it serve as a rudder. There is

398

THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS.

[June,

good reason to believe that the pterodactyls lived in the cliffs
along the sea-shore, and that their prey was mostly fish, and
judging from the size of their brains they were intelligent
creatures. Professor H. G. Seeley places them in a distinct sub-
class, between reptiles and mammals, and they are sometimes
called Ornithosauria, or bird-lizards. Many pterodactyls meas-
ured only two feet in spread of wing, but in Marsh's unequalled
collection at Yale we find some with a spread of wing of from
twenty to twenty-five feet.

Birds, which hold so distinct a place in the animal kingdom,

RESTORATION OF ARCH^OPTERYX ; ONE-THIRD NATURAL SIZE. (By Romanes Natural

Science, December, 1894.)

1 89 5.] THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS. 399

are believed by good authorities to have sprung from some
branch of the dinosaurs. For a long time the opponents of
evolution ridiculed the idea of birds being descended from
reptiles : no bird had yet been found which in the least resem-
bled a reptile. They made light of Darwin's words : * " The
crust of the earth is a vast museum ; but the natural collections
have been imperfectly made, and only at long intervals of
time." At length, in 1862, an important discovery was made in
the limestone rocks at Solenhofen, Bavaria : a fossil bird was
found to which the name Archaeopteryx was given. Its lizard-
like tail had twenty-one joints and was as long as all the rest
of the vertebral column, while its jaws were full of teeth ; at
the same time its wings and tail were distinctly feathered. And
in 1873 a second specimen was dug out of the same rocks. The
illustration here given is by the late Professor Romanes. In it
we perceive that the digits of the wings are still unreduced,
and these, like the feet, are covered with scales.

All who have carefully examined these two specimens find
in them a singular combination of reptile and bird : indeed,
except for the feathers, archaeopteryx might almost as well be
called a bird-like reptile as a reptilian bird. We know that
some of the dinosaurs show in the structure of their bones
a remarkable likeness to birds ; and in archseopteryx we may
truly say that the wide gap which separates the birds from the
reptiles has been very much narrowed, and no doubt future
discoveries will make the gap still narrower.

THE WANT OF LINKS.

We admit that the steps by which organic life has developed
through the ages from low to highly organized forms are very
imperfectly revealed in the rocks ; few missing links have been
discovered. But there are very good reasons why the record
should be so broken. The preservation of organic remains in
sediments, which afterwards harden into rock, is a good deal a
matter of chance. If a bone, for instance, sink to the bottom
of a lake or sea where little if any sediment is forming, the
bone will by and by decay and disappear. Then again strati-
fied rocks, perhaps rich in fossils, may by pressure or the influ-
ence of heat be changed into hard, crystalline rocks; which
change is called metamorphism. Now, when this change takes
place, the rocks not only assume a different character and
aspect, but they also lose every trace of the fossils which they

* Origin of Species, p. 734.

400

THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS.

[June,

contained. Another reason, too, why more transitional forms
have not been discovered, is that only a small portion of the
earth's crust has been explored by geologists.

MONSTERS OF THE DEEP.

And now to go back to the age of reptiles the age of
dinosaurs and pterodactyls and the strange reptilian bird

GROUP OF SEA SERPENTS, ELASMOSAM, AND FISHES. LENGTH FROM 50 TO 75 FEET.

archaeopteryx there lived in the sea during that era monsters
which we may be justified in calling sea serpents, although
properly speaking they were not true serpents. Serpents,
according to the best authorities, have come to us through
some primitive form of lizard with very small legs, and which
found it easier to move over the ground by wriggling along
eel-fashion and making use of its ribs instead of its legs, so
that in time, from want of use, the legs disappeared.* But the
marine reptiles, whose skeletons have been preserved in the
stratified rocks of Europe and America, had short limbs, which
were used much as fish use their fins. The largest of these
creatures is known as Mosasaurus Princeps, and its length was
about seventy-five feet.

It is chiefly to the American scientists Marsh, Cope, and
Leidy that we owe our knowledge of the Mosasaurus, which
abounded in the cretaceous sea of North America. Like snakes,
they had on the roof of the mouth four rows of formidable

* In the boa constrictor rudiments of legs are perceptible.

I895-]

THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS.

401

teeth, and the articulation of the lower jaw was such that they
could swallow their prey whole, just as snakes do.

Professor Cope tells us how strange it was to find these sea
animals, once so plentiful between the Missouri and the Rocky
Mountains, now lying stranded a thousand miles from the near-
est sea water.* " If the explorer searches the bottoms of the
rain-washes and ravines, he will doubtless come upon the frag-
ment of a tooth or jaw, and will generally find a line of such
pieces leading to an elevated position on the bank or bluff,
where lies the skeleton of some monster of the ancient sea.
He may find the vertebral column running far into the lime-
stone that locks him in his last prison ; ... or a pair of
jaws lined with horrid teeth, which grin despair on enemies they
are helpless to resist, etc."

GIANT DEER.

When the fossil-hunter ascends from the Mesozoic strata,
which contain the remains of so many wonderful reptiles and
comes to the rocks of the Tertiary age (divided into the
Eocene, Miocene, and Pliocene epochs), he sees quite a different

A GIGANTIC HORNED UINOCERAS. LENGTH ABOUT 25 FEET.

fauna and flora. Mammals, which in the older rocks were
represented by a few little animals probably marsupials now
appear in great numbers ; he is in the presence of a higher

* Report of U. S. Geological and Geographical Survey of the Territories, vol. ii., 1875.

vou LXI. 26

402 THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS. [June,

type of life. In North America the cretaceous sea has disap-
peared, and in what is now Wyoming is a great tropical lake
surrounded by luxuriant forests inhabited by strange and gigan-
tic quadrupeds. Perhaps the most wonderful mammal among
them was the Dinoceras, which probably weighed when alive
and full grown about two and three-quarter tons.

The Dinoceras must have been a stupid beast, judging from
the size of its brain, which was even smaller than the brain of
some reptiles, and we learn from Marsh that all the earlier ter-
tiary mammals had uncommonly small brains. But as time
went on their brains increased in size ; and Marsh's law of brain-
growth is a singularly suggestive discovery. The dinoceras sud-
denly disappeared at the close of the first epoch of the tertiary.
But it was succeeded in the following miocene epoch in the
region between the Rocky Mountains and western Nebraska
by another huge mammal called Brontops, whose fossil remains
were discovered by Marsh, in 1874.

It was larger than the dinoceras and was more nearly allied
to the rhinoceros.

THE MEGATHERIUM.

In the Pampas of South America have been unearthed the
remains of a gigantic animal, allied to the sloth and ant-eater,
which lived during the quaternary period (immediately preceding
the modern era), and called the Megatherium. It surpassed the
rhinoceros in size, and its bones were more massive than the
bones of an elephant, Its tail, too, must have been exceedingly
powerful, while its fore and hind limbs were provided with im-
mense claws.

The late Professor Owen's explanation of how this animal
obtained its food, and the use which it made of its tail, is now
generally accepted as correct. The megatherium must have fed
on the leaves of trees ; but as probably no tree had limbs strong
enough to support it, it raised itself on its hind legs and, lean-
ing back on its tail, pulled the branches towards it ; it may
even have been able sometimes to pull a whole tree down.

Many other interesting animals, long extinct, have been dis-
covered in the rocks and in the deep clays; the mammoth, the
mastodon, the great Irish deer (not an elk, but a true cervus),
the woolly rhinoceros, etc. But we have not space to give even
a brief description of them. We may conclude by saying that
if the record of the rocks were not so imperfect, if we had an

1 89 5.] THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS. 403

unbroken history of the life system, we should find according
to the highest authorities that the animals which lived millions
of years ago are, indeed, the ancestors (not, however, always in a
direct line) of the animals now existing.

CHANGE POSSIBLY INCESSANT.

Nor can any valid reason be given why evolution should
not still be going on : all things are changing, albeit with im-
perceptible slowness. Nor are the heavens to be excepted ;

GREAT GROUND SLOTH OF SOUTH AMERICA. LENGTH 18 FEET.

astronomers tell us that the present North Star will not always
be the north star. And if we .could project ourselves into the
far-off future, say two or three million years from the present,
we should most likely behold a different fauna and flora. The
climates then may not be the same as our climates, and there
may be a different distribution of land and water ; prairies may
be elevated into mountains ; and where now stand New York
and London may be buried fathoms deep under the sea. And
surely, in order to adapt themselves to changed conditions of
life, animals and plants will have to change also.

ANTIQUITY OF THE EARTH.

There still may be a few doubters who will say there has
not been time enough since the creation for so great an evolu-

404 THE MUSEUM OF THE ROCKS. [June.

tion of organic life to have come about through natural selec-
tion : although Darwin and Wallace never held that natural
selection was the sole cause of evolution. We refer these
doubters to an article in Nature for January 3, of this year.
There we find that Sir William Thomson has recently admitted
the force of the arguments brought forward by Professor Perry,
one of his own pupils, in favor of a much greater antiquity of
the earth. In place of his first superior time limit (based on
calculations made thirty years ago) of 400,000,000 years for the
past existence of our planet, the eminent physicist concedes as
possible, from facts now known to us, the much higher maxi-
mum range of 4,000,000,000 years since the creation. These
startling figures meet the views held by the more advanced
geologists, and allow time enough for the slow deposition of
sediments and for the building up of what we have called the
Museum of the Rocks.*

*The foregoing illustrations, it is proper to say, are taken from Rev. H. N. Hutchinson's
work on Extinct Monsters.

A LEGACY from the late James Anthony Froude,
in the shape of a book, may be accepted by the
beneficiaries much as Hercules accepted from his
wife the gift of the centaur. The garment is gaudy
and enticing, but it will cling with poisonous tenac-
ity to the frame of the acceptor. In this book, which treats of
the rise of the English naval power,* the eminent whitewashing
historian undertakes the daring feat of showing that piracy,
treachery, and carnage were eminently respectable pursuits when
undertaken for the spread of the Reformation in England.
This proposition may sound startling, but here we have it in its
naked horror, set forth with due circumstantiality and depend-
ing on the audacious plea of justification. It has been the
fashion to make the Jesuits responsible for this atrocious prin-
ciple in moral philosophy, but no one has as yet suggested that
Mr. James Anthony Froude was a member of that much-
maligned order. It was only a short time before he died that
Mr. Froude bequeathed this new legacy to the admirers of the
Reformation. It was contained in his lectures as Regius Pro-
fessor at Oxford in the years 1893-94. In these he reviewed
the careers of the buccaneers of the sixteenth and seventeenth
century, such as Hawkins, Drake, Winter, Raleigh, and others
of that tribe. It is needless to say that his pictures of these
adventurers and the scenes in which they played the leading
parts is animated and glittering. But it is not cheerful reading.
The record of rapine and murder is only attractive to the Jack
Sheppard order of mind. Mr. Froude appears to have thought
that this was the prevailing taste among his Oxford auditory.

"The English sea-power," says the Regius Professor, "was
the legitimate child of the Reformation. It grew out of the
new despised Protestantism." And it was under the illegitimate
daughter of the founder of the Reformation that this power

* English Seamen of the Sixteenth Century. By James Anthony Froude. New York :
Charles Scribner's Sons.

406 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

found its full development in piracy on a grand scale, slave-
dealing, and universal rapine. But it was under the founder
himself that the buccaneering business began. The historian
most felicitously quotes a saying with regard to Henry when
beginning this portion of his narrative. " ' King Harry loved a
man/ it was said, and knew a man when he saw one." Mr.
Froude would not have been found recalling this suggestive
aphorism had the bluff king's dangerous admiration been
confined to the sterner sex. Amongst other men whom he
knew and esteemed, was one Mr. William Hawkins, of
Plymouth ; and his esteem was based upon that personage's
success in bringing home presents of gold and ivory from the
African Coast, together with some human chattels. This Haw-
kins was the father of the John Hawkins who was knighted by
Elizabeth for his amazing success as a scourge of the seas, and
shared with Sir Francis Drake the honor of being the most
formidable of the pirates and cutthroats that sailed the Spanish
main. Elizabeth took her share in the plunder and took shares
in slave-hunting enterprises ; and when the Spaniards retaliated
on any of the pirates she made loud complaint of her subjects
being maltreated and robbed !

It would have been in other hands an impossible task to
defend the deeds of such monsters as Hawkins and Drake. But
Froude's motto is toujours audace. The law of nations, the laws
of humanity, might be outraged, horror accumulated on horror,
but he has a defence. " Spain and England," he declared,
" might be at peace ; Romanism and Protestantism were at
deadly war ; and war suspends the obligations of ordihary life."
What a hideous doctrine ! It makes one's flesh creep to read
this crimson pharisaism.

Far-fetched as this excuse of an unofficial religious war is,
moreover, the inventor of it himself shows it to be untenable.
In the course of his lectures he points out more than once that
the real objects of the Holy Office in Spain were political and
commercial rather than religious ; that religion was used, in fact,
by it only as a mask for the most material designs and
methods. Thus he is hoist with his own blasting-charge.

We do not envy the feelings of the creed or the people in
whose behalf Froude undertook this unique line of defence. To
their careful perusal we commend these chapters on "The Sea-
cradle of the Reformation." For ourselves we have only to say
that civilized peoples have repudiated the doctrine that between
nations at peace there can be any toleration for unauthorized

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 407

murder and piracy, and that even when a state of war exists
the laws of good faith and humanity are still binding on bel-
ligerents. Froude has written his own epitaph. Out of his own
mouth he stands convicted as the falsifier of history and the
champion of treachery and every curse that springs from the
basest passions of the human heart.

We have heard so much lament of late over the paucity of
Catholic fiction of the better order that we are somewhat
curious as to the reception which awaits a new issue of the
famous classic novel Dion and the Sibyls* This work was pub-
lished in this magazine a good many years ago as that of a mas-
ter of scholarly style, the late Miles Gerald Keon. The book
appeals to the same level of intelligence as the famous Ben Hur
appeals to possibly a shade higher. Yet, despite its classic
quotations and recondite points, it is free from the charge of
pedantry. It presents to the ordinary understanding the same
grasp of the universal situation in the pagan world when
nascent Christianity was struggling in its swaddling-clothes as
the writer himself had acquired. Its diction is a model of
purity ; its dramatic construction masterly. Some of the situa-
tions are invested with a tremendous power. They present us
with pictures of the spirit of the time, so cruel and so steeped
in dark superstition, so glutted with conquest and so great
withal in imperial conceptions, that give the work the vividness
of a vast and fascinating panorama. To the meanest intellect
it is plain that the author had made himself familiar with the
every-day life of the Roman court and every detail of Roman
life before he sat down to write his book. He had wrapt him-
self up so thoroughly in his subject that he found no difficulty,
apparently, in bringing the aid of lifelike reality to the aid of
an imagination of uncommon richness and creative power. It is
not alone with the material world of the time he deals, but he
enters also into the labyrinths of the metaphysical speculations
of the philosophers and the mental struggling of the better men
and women of the Gentile world for light amid that opacity in
which the rays of Christian truth were as yet only seen through
the merest chinks.

We would commend this noble work in especial to the
attention of the various Reading Circles throughout the coun-
try. They will be enabled to judge how nobler a thing the

* Dion and the Sibyls. A classic novel. By Miles Gerald Keon. New York : Catholic
School Book Company, 28 Barclay Street.

408 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

English language is on the pen of a writer who knows its capa-
bilities than on the lips of people who make it a vehicle only for
the dull practical business of every-day life. We ought to add
that the style in which the book is put forth by the publishers
is a credit to typography.

Mr. J. K. Foran, who has lately had conferred upon him
the degree of doctor in literature in addition to his former one
of bachelor in utroque jure, has just published a collection of
his lyrical pieces, in a very handsome volume.* These poems
are of a miscellaneous character and display a great inequality
in merit. Whil'e many of them are pleasing in construction,
others are hard and unmusical, and remind one a good deal of
the work of the late Mr. Tupper. There is also a decidedly
reminiscent flavor about one at least of them ; we mean the
piece addressed to an artist about to paint the portrait of Rev.
Dr. Tabaret, O.M.I. It instantly recalls the lines of Thomas
Davis to Hogan about the statue of O'Connell, as well as the
more graceful apostrophe of Denis Florence McCarthy to the
depictor of the lineaments of the great Father Mathew. An
address to a brook is open to the same remark, as it follows in
a degree the lines of a more famous composition. The descrip-
tive pieces in the book are the best of its contents.
These are vigorous and picturesque ; but it is needless to say
that this species does not stand on the highest plane in poetry.
In the elegiacs, moreover, it is just to say there is a ring which
approaches the true note of poetical passion in many of the
lines notably in the lament over the late Father Tom Burke,
O.P. Yet in many places there are faulty lines and a tendency
towards objectionable forms of expression as, for instance, in
a piece entitled " The Chief of the Ottawa " we find this inele-
gant form :

" For he stood by the wave that does silently lave
The spot where his forefathers rest."

There is considerable power, though little of freshness of
idea, in a poem on Mr. Gladstone, and some other pieces of a
patriotic character (Canadian) possess dash and spirit. But the
general impression left by all is that they were written more un-
der the stress of a necessity to make rhyme, fairly consistent with
common-sense and passable as poetical expression, than the affla-
tus of high or novel ideas. It is not well even for a good prose

* Poems and Lyrics. By J. K. Foran, Lit.D., LL.B. Montreal : D. J. Sadlier & Co.

1895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 409

writer like Mr. Foran to at all times yield to the temptation to
indulge that innate tendency to rhyme which is a legacy from
the days of nascent intellect, when rhythm is but an effort of
nature and a combination trick between ear and tongue. A
good many typographical errors are observable in the book a
fact which helps the sense of disappointment which some of the
work inspires, inasmuch as the cover of the book which encloses
those faults is attractive.

The Japanese fit now holds us fast ; it is in the hysterical
stage. Of books on that odd country we continue to get more
than we ask for. It is fearful to contemplate what we may
have to endure by and by, when the whole army of writers and
commercial travellers who shall certainly move upon the coun-
try, now that it has become famous, set their pens and tongues
in motion. Mr. Henry T. Fincke is the latest contributor to
our stock of knowledge of the manners and customs of the
Japanese.* He writes with the idea of a man who can take a
good note of what he sees, and he gives us a pretty clear idea
that his own notions of morality and those of the average Japan-
ese do not present any abysmal difference. The questions of
the beauty of the Japanese women and the ethics of partial or
total nudity occupy a very large share of his philosophical at-
tention. The Japanese, in these respects, contrast very favorably
with the Americans, he opines. He does not think the Budd-
hist monks quite so rascally as the mediaeval ones in Europe,
though they (the Buddhists) are loafers taken from the lowest
dregs of society. The value of the aspiration that we might be
able to induce six hundred Japanese missionaries to visit our
country to instil notions of humanity and politeness into Ameri-
can life may be tested by this opinion.

The " chiels amang us takin' notes " are not the rarcz aves
that they used to be. Flying visitors from every part of the
Old World are to be found every year gathering their impres-
sions and raking in our money like Conan Doyle and Rudyard
Kipling and David Christie Murray and sometimes laughing at
us for our readiness to be plucked, and our gratitude for the favor
of being ridiculed. Paul Bourget is of the number, though not
of the ill-conditioned lot. He spent a few months in the coun-
try, and turned the visit to account. He paints our portrait and
asks for our opinion of the performance. In reply to his criti-

* Lotos-Time in Japan. By Henry T. Fincke. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

410 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

cism we proceed to pass our own opinion upon his work, and
ask what is the value of such hasty impressions. This is the
orthodox way of answering a question more Hibernico.

We may say at the outset that Paul Bourget, like a great
many more of his countrymen, looks at some social aspects of a
strange country from a merely animal point of view. The fault
is not intentional perhaps ; it is a question of national tempera-
ment. French writers of the later school are more sensual
than others. Sensuality has had its period in most literatures ;
its period is not yet over in France. Consequently when we
find this talented Academician considering American society
from that stand-point we need not be surprised at the tone
and language which he uses. It comes to him perfectly natur-
ally. He gives us credit for being better behaved than folk in
France, but taunts the descendants of the Anglo-Saxon Puritans
with hypocrisy in the matter of scandalous 'living. Possibly he
had the case of a great public man, legislator and lay-preacher,
just before the world when the Academician arrived here, in his
eye. It is not just to the Puritans to judge them by one or by
several examples. One swallow does not make a summer ; one
black sheep does not nigrify the whole flock.

When a writer accustomed all his life to the institution of a
demi-monde talks of the difficulty of understanding the smile of
the American woman, with " its respectable animalism," we re-
spect his ingenuousness. If he cannot understand the smile of
a virtuous woman, his comprehension of the character and bent
and achievements of a great people is limited to the surface
things. Therefore his views on what met his eyes in society
here may be read for amusement's sake ; for that of instruction
they are not of any great account.

M. Bourget pays America the compliment of borrowing the
name of his book from the work of one of America's greatest
poets and authors. Longfellow gave the name " Outre-Mer " to
his book of European travel ; and this is the title M. Bourget
chooses for his. He might also with advantage borrow some of
Longfellow's purity of mind when discussing the characteristics
of people outside France.

His own countryman, Max O'Rell, who, in our humble opin^
ion, is far more deserving of a place amongst the forty " im-
mortals," as a recognition of literary ability, is far beyond him
as an itinerary commentator. He has much more delicacy in
handling risky subjects ; and he has a gift of humor, entirely
absent in the writings of M. Bourget. The utmost that can be

1895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 411

said of Outre-Mer * is that it is lively and at times pungent, and
devoid of that tone of snobbishness and conceited .impudence
which characterizes the obiter dicta of some literary magnificoes
from England who now and then deign to visit and patronize
Brother Jonathan.

On matters of tangible fact and safe critical judgment M.
Bourget's observations are more valuable. He attended Catholic
churches during his sojourn here, and was profoundly impressed
by the earnestness of both priests and people. He bears en-
thusiastic testimony to the great vitality of the Catholic Church
in America, as well as to the thoroughly democratic spirit which
distinguishes it within and without. He had interviews with
some of the more prominent dignitaries of the church notably
Cardinal Gibbons, Archbishop Ireland, and the Rector of the
Catholic University, Right Rev. Dr. Keane, and he gives fine
silhouettes of all three. Archbishop Ireland struck him as be-
ing the most forceful figure in American Catholicism, because
of his splendid optimism and his sterling patriotism. It strikes
M. Bourget that the position of the Catholic Church in Ameri-
ca, unconnected as it is with the state in any way, is far hap-
pier than that of the Church in France, harassed on all sides
by anti-clerical laws and liable to be held accountable to the
state for every public utterance of its bishops and clergy.

A book which just reaches our hands in time only for a
hasty review may be described as one of the modern curiosi-
ties of literature. It is a compilation of the public utterances
of the Papal Delegate, Archbishop Satolli, since his arrival in the
United States, upon matters of high public moment. f The cir-
cumstances under which these addresses were made were often
so peculiar as to give the flavor of novelty and uniqueness to the
work. Coming to this country with not a thorough knowledge
of the English language, the delegate labored under enormous
difficulties at first, but his wonderful quickness of perception and
readiness of resource enabled him to overcome them all in time.
Called upon to reply to many speeches and to decide on many
causes in a strange tongue, he had to avail himself largely of
the help of others at the beginning. His general plan was to
dictate in either Latin or Italian, and get one of his secre-
taries or his friends to render this reply into English. These

* Outre-Mer. Impressions of America. By Paul Bourget, member of the French Acade-
my. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.

f Loyalty to Church and State. The Mind of his Excellency, Francis Archbishop Satolh,
Apostolic Delegate, Baltimore : John Murphy & Co.

412 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

renderings he would critically examine, and sometimes suggest
corrections where the translation did not appear to convey the
particular shade of meaning which he desired. The English of
these addresses, then, is that of other minds, in a good many
cases ; and as they are the work of different hands, they pre-
sent a diversity of style which, to one unacquainted with the
circumstances, must appear singular.

Since his advent here, however, the Apostolic Delegate has
labored diligently to overcome the obstacle of language, and his
efforts have been most successful. His later utterances have
been delivered without much intermediary help. Through all,
however, whatever their differences in verbal drapery, there runs
a line of thought and constitutional scholarship which shows the
profound student and the vigilant observer of all that is making
up the present great page of civilization's history.

That such a man as the Papal Delegate, with his hands daily
filled with ecclesiastical business of the most delicate and intri-
cate nature at times, could make so thorough a study of the
social and political problems of the United States as this work
demonstrates is a proof of that rare intellectual power which is
demanded for the office of high plenipotentiaries. It is only
one man in a million who possesses such gifts in ordinary de-
gree ; the richness of Monsignor Satolli's fitness for his office is
something phenomenal.

The volume of addresses now presented to us is prefaced by
an introduction from his Eminence Cardinal Gibbons, and from
this we gather that a good many pronouncements, judged to
be of the highest importance by those who heard them, have
not been preserved. The editor of the work is the Rev. J. R.
Slattery, Rector of St. Joseph's Seminary for the Colored Mis-
sions, whose earnest labors on behalf of the negroes elicit
a warm note of praise from the Apostolic Delegate. A great
diversity of theme is the feature of the addresses. They deal
with the subjects of education, the Papacy and its relations to
outside authority, the constitution of the church, the harmony
of the spirit of Catholicity with American institutions, public
and parochial schools, religious associations, temperance, the
functions of the press, and other important factors in our
national life. Besides the addresses there are several letters to
Catholic societies and the Press.

Perhaps the most important of these expositions of the men-
tal attitude of the Apostolic Delegate, from a wide public point
of view, is that which he gave at the banquet of the Carroll

1895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 413

Institute at Washington, D. C. It was in the course of this
address that he expatiated on the Papal Encyclical on Church
and State, and his observations may be taken as a full explana-
tory glossary on the original text. We would be gratified to
reproduce the whole of his Excellency's admirable discourse up-
on this theme, but that pleasure is denied us, owing to the
briefness of the interval between the reception of the volume
and the publication of this issue of our magazine. We must
content ourselves with a few extracts dealing with the duties of
the Catholic citizen and the public press :

" Broad and complete is the demonstration given by the
Holy Father in this encyclical that the state has nothing to
fear but everything to hope from the existence of the Catholic
Church in her midst. She has everything to hope and
nothing to fear, not only as regards her independence and con-
stitutional liberty, but as regards the liberty of political parties
as well, to none of which does the church or the pope desire
that Catholic interests should bind themselves. The church
holds herself on a higher plane and looks only to the common
good, to the reign of truth, justice, and peace. There is noth-
ing to fear, but everything to hope in the instruction and edu-
cation given by the church to Catholic youth. Beneficent
societies, the freedom of the press, the freedom of religion
have nothing to fear from the church. Wherefore, after this
magnificent exposition of Catholic truth in the recent encyclical,
all sinister pre-occupations concerning the possibility or impossi-
bility of a true harmony between Catholic spirit and civil and
political liberty should disappear. One of the church's teach-
ings is that a popular form of government is a just and proper
one. It has never happened that the church or a pope entered,
of his own accord, into the vast field of civil government ; but
history sufficiently proves that trouble has always arisen when
governments have overstepped the limits of their legitimate
authority, and have sought to interfere in religious matters.
The danger of such trouble does not exist in this country, as
is evident from the spirit of the Constitution and from the
loyalty of those who are its custodians. To them does it
belong to maintain the spirit of the Constitution in prohibiting
the framing of any law in matters of religion, and the using of
any distinction among the people based on religious differences ;
but, it is certainly against the spirit of the Constitution to re-
fuse the co-operation offered by Catholic institutions, or to ex-
clude them solely because they are Catholic. . . .

4H TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

" I cannot conclude without calling your attention to one
other important consideration concerning the relation of the
church to- the nation in this country. The opinion is certainly
growing, that we are nearing a most critical point in history,
and that in this country especially great problems will soon
demand positive solution. All the horrors of a social revolution
are predicted by men no less renowned for accurate and calm
thinking than Professor Goldwin Smith and Professor Von
Hoist. All agree in selecting this country as the field of the
greatest of the disorders which threaten society. This being so,
it is interesting to note the words of a non-Catholic writer in
the latest number of an important magazine. He says : ' The
tacit acknowledgment of the religious primacy of the suc-
cessor of St. Peter is one of the clearest signs of the times. It
is- a significant recognition of the fact that the Catholic Church
holds the solution of the terrible problem which lies on the
threshold of the twentieth century, and that it belongs to the
pope alone to pronounce our social pax vobiscum' '

I. A NEW CATECHISM.*

The man who attempts to prepare a new catechism, not-
withstanding the number already in use, must have some very
special reason for such an undertaking. If it is simply to bring
out some pet idea of his own about some controverted point in
theology his trouble will be ill repaid. We can readily see from
a study of this catechism that the author, Dr. Schwenniger, has
no such hobby to ride. He has this motive, and it is a wor-
thy one he wishes tq impress upon the minds of our children
the great truths of our religion, and to show that these dogmas
rest for their foundation first on the authority of the teaching
church, supported by tradition and Holy Scripture. The child
is impressed from beginning to end of this catechism with the
fact that the church is the living Christ, that as he existed and
taught before any written book, so too his church, his mouth-
piece, must be heard before we bring forth arguments from
either tradition or Scripture. "What does the living, teaching
church hold ? " That settled, then her teaching he strengthens
by tradition and the Bible. This idea, carried out so well

* Katechismus fur die Katholischen Volksschulen in den Vereinigten Staaten Nor darner ikas.
New York : Chas. Wildermann, u Barclay Street.

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 415

throughout the catechism, has a wonderful effect upon the mind
of the reader.

The order, the concise answers, the attractive way of putting
the great truths of our holy faith, give evidence of most careful
preparation. The author has been working on this book for the
past fifteen years, and during these years has given several hours
every day to its study and preparation.

Another good point worthy of notice is that for the children
of German parents he insists that, while they study the cate-
chism in their own language, they must have on the opposite
page the English translation and good English it is at that.
For English-speaking schools a special English edition has been
prepared. The book has the most cordial approbation of the
author's Most Rev. Archbishop. An instructive and interesting
article on th-e question of catechisms would no doubt prove of
value to those whose work of love it is to teach our children
the truths of our holy faith.

2. LECTURES ACCORDING TO SPECIFICATION.*

The Hon. and Rev. W. H. Fremantle is Canon of Canterbury,
and fellow of Balliol College, Oxford. The World as the Subject
of Redemption comprises a series of lectures delivered at Oxford
in the course established by Rev, John Bampton, Canon of
Salisbury. An extract from the will of Canon Bampton, by which
provision is made for the delivery of these lectures, is printed
at the beginning of the volume as a sort of prefatory note.
There is no mistaking the mind of the canon, for in his will he
plainly states what he desires in this course of lectures, and he
clearly indicates subjects, and time, and other matter relative to
the course. Professor Ely in his introduction says : " The World
as the Subject of Redemption offers a system of apologetics."
This title a system of apologetics clearly indicates the scope
of the essays. Here is a somewhat curious thing in regard to
the work. In his preface to the new edition Canon Fremantle
honestly admits that the book fell flat in England. " The lec-
tures excited little attention in England, either on their delivery
in 1883 or on their publication in 1885. . * -At all events,
the book fell almost flat on this side of the Atlantic ; and the
publishers were at one time so much disheartened as to incline
to give it up as dead." Then Professor Ely, of the University

* The World as the Subject of Redemption. By the Hon. and Rev. W. H. Fremantle,
M.A. With an introduction by Richard T. Ely, Ph.D., LL.D. Second edition, revised.
New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

4i 6 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

of Wisconsin, took notice of the lectures, pointing out their
value as contributions to apologetic literature, and the dead
came to life again, and so into a second edition. The Oxford
lecturer is generous in his acknowledgment of this fact.

3. FROM THE PRETORIUM TO GOLGOTHA.*

This beautiful little book of some twenty-five pages has this
merit on the face of it it does not divorce art from religion.
The scenes of the great tragedy of the Passion and Death of
our Lord have called forth from the most gifted pens and
brushes the highest inspirations of the artist's talents. This
zealous secular priest has made wholesome use of the few spare
moments in his busy parochial life to select the best types of
the most celebrated artists to place before our minds the cruel-
ties inflicted on our Lord during the Passion. The best have
been chosen : Raphael, Fra Angelico, Dor6, Rubens, Titian,
Munkacsy, Hoffmann, and others. Our friends of the Episcopal
Church who have lately taken up this devotion of the Way of
the Cross will be delighted with this added aid to their efforts
in the right direction. The meditations are based on the gos-
pel narrative and therefore good, while the prayers are pointed
and practical. The translation of the " Stabat Mater," while
literal, is rhythmic and forceful and may be sung by the congre-
gation with good effect.

4. THE COUNCILS OF THE CHURCH.f

Bishop Hefele's learned work has fared well at the hands of
Mr. William B. Clark. The translation from the German is
exceedingly well done. Mr. Clark deserves the thanks of the
student of general history for placing this valuable work in an
English dress. No student, and especially no divinity student,
of church history can well afford to be without the four vol-
umes already produced, and we will expect with interest the
fifth volume, which completes the work, and which is promised
if " the demand for that which is now issued " warrants it. We
have no doubt that the fifth volume will appear in due season.

* From the Pretorium to Golgotha* By Rev. Patrick E. Fitzsimons. New York : S. J.
Kerr.

t A History of the Councils of the Church. By Right Rev. Charles Joseph Hefele, D.D.
Translated from the German, with the author's approbation, and edited by William B. Clark,
M.A., etc. Edinburgh : T. and T. Clark. Vol. iv. : A D. 451-680. (Imported by Charles
Scribner's Sons.)

I895-]

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

5. A BOOK FOR THE TIMES.*

417

The spirit of the times is marked by a very earnest desire
for Christian Unity. The currents of religious thought are set-
ting in strong and fast towards this much-desired goal. The
negotiations of Lord Halifax in England, giving occasion to the
outpouring of the great heart of the Holy Father in his letter
to the English people on the one hand, and the splendid tem-
per with which it has been received by them on the other, in-
dicate a very strong desire on the part of all concerned to en-
ter into closer religious charity. In this country the cordial
way in which the great work that Father Elliott has under-
taken has been received, the many expressions of a more kindly
feeling towards Catholics, the evident desire to suppress rancor-
ous religious antipathies, all these indicate a closing of the gap.
The closer we come together the more we want to know of
each other. Hence a restatement of Catholic doctrine just now
from Father Searle, who has reasoned out all these problems
for himself, will meet a general welcome from the many who
are becoming more and more interested in these great vital
problems.

Father Searle is a convert himself, is professor of mathema-
tics at the Catholic University, and his book is just what it
purports to be a collection of plain facts for fair minds, an
appeal to candor and C9mmon sense.

As a book for missionary purposes it is of very great value.
Many devoted priests and laymen will see in it a splendid hand-
book to distribute widely among non-Catholics, because it is
a calm, well-reasoned, dispassionate statement of the Catholic
position. There is no spirit of attack or controversy about it.
It is simply building the bridges across the stream of prejudice,
and an invitation to join hands and forces in a Christian unity.
We are quite sure that at this present juncture it will meet
with a very great success.

6. THE IRISH REVIVAL.

We have received the report of the Gaelic League an asso-
ciation whose object is the preservation of the Irish language
by viva voce example for the year 1894. It is an encouraging

* Plain Facts for Fair Minds : An appeal to candor and common sense. By Rev. George
M. Searle, C.S.P. New York : The Catholic Book Exchange, 120 West Sixtieth Street.

VOL. LXI. 27

4.i 8 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

record of good work done. Few people outside Ireland and
Irish circles are aware of the great hold the Irish tongue still
maintains upon the mass of the Irish peasantry, particularly
those of the West and North-west. It appears from the last
census report that there were at the time the enumeration took
place close upon seven hundred thousand Irish-speaking persons
in the country, but to the vast majority of these people the
vernacular is only known as a spoken language and with a very
limited scope. To diffuse a knowledge of Irish as a written vehicle
with a splendid storehouse for scholars is one of the principal aims
of the new League, and the encouragement the movement has
received from eminent people of letters is a hopeful augury of
success. An Irish revival is going on the force of which has been
strongly felt even here. The movement was begun a good many
years ago by the Society for the Preservation of the Irish Lan-
guage, whose cheap educational books were a great boon to the
Irish-speaking population, hitherto ignorant of the grammatical
structure of the tongue they had been reared in. The Gaelic
League is destined to help the work by giving the students of Irish
a practical knowledge of its idioms and correct pronunciation one
of the most formidable difficulties which confronted those mak-
ing its acquaintance for the first time. The revival of this an-
cient tongue is something unique in the history of language and
literature.

/. SHORTHAND FOR TYPEWRITERS.

A most ingenious system of shorthand for typewriters has
been devised by Rev. D. A. Quinn, of Providence, R. I. It is
claimed for the system that it can be learned in a few hours,
and given an average intelligence and an average memory, the
claim seems to be good. The system abolishes the use of any
of the present systems of shorthand script, and asks no more
than the utilization of the alphabets of the typewriting machine,
capitals and small letters. These are availed of on the phonetic
principle and for the construction of grammalogues, prefixes, etc.
The result is an immense saving of time and manipulation to
those who take the trouble to learn the system by dispensing
with the trouble of writing shorthand and then transcribing it
on the machine. An admirable book of instruction is published
by the Continental Printing Company, Dyer and Pine Streets,
Providence, R. I.

I895-]

NEW BOOKS.

419

NEW BOOKS.

BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

Biographical Dictionary of the English Catholics. By Francis Gillow. Vol.
iv. (Burns & Gates, London.) The New Speller and Word Book. (Cath-
olic National Series.) Charity is the Greatest Gift of God to Man. By
the Rev. J. A. Maltus, O.P. A Royal and a Christian Soul: A Sketch of
the Life and Death of the Comte de Paris. By Monseigneur D'Hulst ;
translated by D. Oswald Hunter Blair, M.A. The Road to Heaven : A
Game.

JOHN MURPHY & Co., Baltimore : .

Indian and White in the North-west. By L. B. Palladino, S J. ; with an in-
troduction by Right Rev. John B. Brondel, first Bishop of Helena.

VICTOR RETAUX, Paris :

Questions Actuelles d'Ecriture Sainte. Par le R. P. Joseph Brucker, S.J.
S. J. KERR, New York :

From the Pretorium to Golgotha. By Rev. Patrick E. Fitzsimons.
HOUGHTON, MlFFLlN & Co., Boston :

Under the Man-Fig. By M. E. M. Davis.
D. C. HEATH & Co., Boston :

Webster s First Bunker Hill Oration. With introduction and notes by A.
J. George, A.M. Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Ibid.

B. HERDER, St. Louis, Mo.:

Instructio Sponsorum Lingua Anglica Conscripta ad Usum Parochorum.
By a Priest of the Mission.

CATHOLIC UNION AND TIMES, Buffalo:

Visions of St. Paul of the Cross.
CASSELL PUBLISHING Co., New York :

Joanna Traill, Spinster. By Annie E. Holdsworth. The Scallywag. By
Grant Allen. The Story of Eleanor Lambert. By Magdalen Brooke.
Through the Red-Litten Windows, and The Old River House. By Theo-
dor Hertz-Garten. Out of the Fashion. By L. T. Meade. The Last Ten-
ant. By B. L. Farjeon. Is She Not a Woman ? By Daniel Dane. 'Lis-
beth. By Leslie Keith.

THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING Co., Chicago :

Wheelbarrow on the Labor Question.
CATHOLIC BOOK EXCHANGE, 120 West 6oth Street, New York:

Plain Facts for Fair Minds. An Appeal to Candor and Common Sense.
By Rev. George M. Searle, C.S.P. Glimpses of Life in an Anglican
Seminary. By Rev. C. A. Walworth.

WITH regard to the article on the question of
Disestablishment in England, in this issue, it is
well to state that the grievance of tithes no longer
enters as an element into the problem, as might be inferred
from the writer's argument. By the Tithes Commutation Act,
passed in 1836, and a couple of subsequent emendatory acts,
the payment of tithes was transferred from the shoulders of the
tillers of the soil to those of the owner. If the tithes are still
paid by the tenant, it is in an indirect shape.

On page 191, May number, in article Training-School of
Nurses, by Thomas Dwight, M.D., the statement was made that
the first training-school for nurses was opened in Buffalo in
1892. We learn that a training-school was opened in connec-
tion with St. Mary's Hospital, Brooklyn, N. Y., in the fall of 1889.

One of those red-letter days in the Church's calendar, the
golden jubilee of an illustrious son, was the i6th of May last.
The date marked the fiftieth anniversary of the ordination of
the Archbishop of Boston, the Most Rev. John Joseph Williams.
This auspicious event was attended by such circumstances as
must render it memorable. From the hands of the Sovereign
Pontiff came an autograph letter of congratulation, accompanied
by a gold medal and the notification of' the apostolic benedic-
tion ; and from a multitude of hierarchs and pastors throughout
the United States and in other lands messages of felicitation.
Bishop Goesbriand, as the senior spiritual overseer of the pro-
vince of New England, offered the present of a beautiful chalice
on behalf of the bishops of that province. The Papal Delegate
headed the array of bishops and clergy who travelled to Boston
to be present at the solemnity, and never has there been a
more imposing gathering at any similar celebration. Cardinal
Gibbons, who was on his way to Rome, was there ; and sixteen
other archbishops and bishops, many of them from the most dis-
tant dioceses, also testified by their presence the reverence in
which they held the venerable prelate of the great New Eng-
land province.

i8 9 5.J

WHA T THE THINKERS SA Y.

421

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

FRANCE GRAPPLING WITH THE DRINK PROBLEM.

(From the Literary Digest?)

THE discussion of temperance and allied questions is just now a noticeable
feature of the French press. The serious manner in which thoughtful minds are
taking it up is shown by an unsigned article in that able scientific journal, Cosmos,
Paris, April 6. The increasing evils of drink in France are acknowledged, and in
canvassing the various methods of differeqt countries in dealing with the problem
the conclusion reached is that neither the Gothenburg system, nor the high-license
system, nor the prohibitory system gives the best results ; but that these are
obtained from the Swiss system of government monopoly. Conditions in France
are thus stated :

" The question of alcoholism is still the order of the day. The spirituous
liquors, more or less pure, that are dealt out in the drinking-saloons are the cause
of ravages that show effects even in the descendants of the victim. The picture
of the dangers and crimes of alcoholism has often been painted here ; we will not
recall it. Suffice it to say that its evil results are increasing. In the insane
asylums the intellectual decadence of 16 per cent, of the inmates is attributable to
drunkenness; the number several years ago was but n per cent."

The Cosmos writer refers to a " remarkable report " made before the Congress
of Alienists by M. Ladame recently, the conclusions of which are thus stated :

" Increase of taxation gives increase of revenue, and does not produce diminu-
tion of consumption ; it does not even temporarily check the continually increasing
progress of the amount consumed. It is thus an insufficient means, at least when
taken by itself. . . .

'/ Here we must note that experience has shown that the introduction of beer
and its general use as an habitual drink has not prevented in several States of
America the increased consumption of alcohol.

" We will say little concerning the reduction of the number of saloons. The-
oretically the means appears excellent, but if we examine the question more closely
we shall not be slow to perceive that the number of saloons is rather a conse-
quence than a cause of the augmentation of the consumption of alcoholic drinks,
and we may even see in the same country the most destructive consumption of
spirits in the districts where the saloons are least frequent. This was proved by
an investigation made by the Swiss Federal Council, which found that the con-
sumption of spirits was greatest in the Swiss cantons where saloons were fewest,
M. Van der Meulen also arrived at this result in the communication that he made
to the Congress of the Hague (August, 1893) on the consequences of the Dutch
law of 1 88 1 regulating the number of licenses for the sale of liquors according to
the population. . . .

" The researches of Moeller in Great Britain, as well as those of G. Hartmann
in France, lead to the same conclusions.

" But if the limitation of the saloons is accompanied by measures restraining
the sale of alcohol and improving the processes of manufacture, the conclusions
are not the same, and we may thus reach satisfactory results, as has been done in

422 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [June,

Sweden, in Norway, in Finland, and in several States of North America. We
shall now see how this is done."

Considering what system could be best applied to France, the writer thinks
the duties on liquor should be maintained, the state must monopolize the rectifica-
tion of spirits, a heavy tax must be put on spirituous liquors, and light drinks must
be free from tax. But these methods will depend for their results upon the
organization of temperance^societies. Says the writer :

"But to reach these results it will be necessary to establish temperance
societies in France, for, as M. Ladame rightly says : ' No measure is capable of
combating alcoholism effectively unless it is sustained by public opinion.' This is
why temperance societies have always played the most important rdle in this
strife, for they form and enlighten public opinion and take care that the legal pro-
visions that they have caused do not become a dead-letter. The only countries
that have made serious laws against alcoholism are those where temperance
societies have proposed and prepared those laws"

SCHOOLS OF THEOLOGY.

{Rev. W. Barry, D.D., in the Irish Ecclesiastical Record for May, 1895.)
COLERIDGE has said excellently well that, of all books, " the Bible alone con-
tains a science of realities ; and, therefore, each of its elements is at the same time
a living germ in which the present involves the future, and in the finite the infinite
exists potentially." It is the Book of Religion, not as a system, but as a revela-
tion. The truth which it conveys is from spirit to spirit, not merely from pheno-
mena to understanding. It offers to us at once the credentials of Christianity as
an historical fact, and the substance of its message. While we receive it as an in-
spired whole on the authority of the Church, its various portions have always ap-
pealed, as by an innate or sacramental grace, to the hearts which they have awak-
ened, rebuked, comforted, lifted up to the world unseen. Inasmuch as it sets before
us the life of Christ in prophecy, parable, reality, and anticipation, it must needs
excel in height and depth all possible commentaries, though written by saints and
doctors and the power of their thought, the charm which breathes from their
pious musings, the unction their words distil, take us always back to the source
from whence they drew their inspiration.

Yet, if ever it was true, now it is truer than ever, that " the energies of the intel-
lect, increase of insight, and enlarging views are necessary to keep alive the sub-
stantial faith in the heart." Our first step must be to recognize that in religion we
"have dealings, not merely with a Divine Nature, like that which Spinoza defined
las unfolding itself into the universe, but with the Father who is for ever distinct
from the universe. Then we shall begin to perceive how great and evil a change
has been wrought in modern times by the widespread supposition that symbols of
personality are all one with abstract notions ; whereas, in revelation, as in fact,
they furnish a living language, which becomes the seed and spirit of action. Thus
enlightened, we shall look upon things visible, in their whole course of develop-
ment, as hieroglyphics which wait for an interpretation. In the Scriptures we
shall read the secret of them as intelligible writing ; in tradition it will resound as
a chant of faith and hope ; in the lucid teaching of St. Thomas and his peers it will
have become a philosophy, never indeed complete, though suggesting deeper
thoughts of God and man as it takes up into itself fresh knowledge, the new ex-
periences of history, and the prophecies or divine judgments which the centuries
fulfil. But, always, on the altar-steps of that holy place, let us see the mystic,
'whose silence strikes a more sublime chord than even angelic speech, and whose

1895.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 423

rapt ecstasy is ever teaching us that while scholasticism moves along the ground,
and thence surveys the heavens which it has not ascended, there are wings of love
and prayer that lift the spirit into a divine ether to some Paradise of God where
our finest human knowledge must seem little else than ignorance.

If we hold these things in our memory we shall not turn scholastic argument
to uses for which it was not designed, or incur the charge that it is an arrogant
Aufkldrung, pretending to measure the immeasurable, and to imprison the infinite.
We shall put from us all questions and they are many which tend to satisfy
curious leisure, but do not edify ; we shall learn that in philosophy Ama nesu'reis
often the truest wisdom ; and the sad issues of so much wrangling over that which
was God's secret will have taught us to be sober. At all times, and even in St.
Thomas, we shall be most scrupulous not to confound with revealed realities the
reasoning by which men would explain them. It will be a first principle with us
that experience goes beyond analysis ; that the abstract is no more than one facet
of the diamond sphere, whose light in its fulness we cannot behold ; and that if
the creative source of theology is faith, its safeguard must ever be love. Thus,
perhaps, we may come to be at once more orthodox and more tolerant ; we shall
pierce through the language of others to their devout intention ; and with the
growth of personal freedom, and of fearless because loyal thinking, we shall be
securing to the great scholastic tradition a renewal of life, yet ourselves be falling
under no tyrannous or mechanical routine.

LENT PREACHING IN PARIS.

(From The Speaker, London?)

" IN one of the richest parishes of Paris the Madeleine a Dominican
preached a series of Lenten discourses on the Duties of the Rich ; the Law of
Justice ; the Law of Charity, and the Brotherhood of Man. At St. Clotilde, in the
heart of the aristocratic Faubourg St. Germain, a Jesuit treated the question of
4 Work and Wages,' laying down the principle that a share in a company does not
only confer upon the holder the right of receiving a dividend, but that it also im-
poses the moral responsibility of any injustice suffered by the workmen. Even
the Lenten orators who had announced theological subjects seemed drawn by an
irresistible fascination to the study of social questions one preacher interrupting
his course on ' Hypnotism and Miracles ' in order to treat the absorbing theme.
It came to the front at the outlying Church of St. Pierre de Montrouge, where the
old system of a dialogue between two preachers one of whom played the part of
the Devil's Advocate was revived with great success. The preacher began his
sermon as follows : ' It is impossible to deny the existence of a grave social
question. Some time ago a Socialist congress took place in Paris itself. In
Germany the Socialist candidates obtain more than a million of votes. In
England strikes are the order of the day. Everywhere we find war to the knife
between labor and capital. The church alone can heal this breach. The church,
strong in its principles and in its gospel the church.'

"'Allow me to put a question,' a voice said suddenly. The 'Devil's
Advocate ' had risen from his place on the ' bane d'ceuvre ' opposite the pulpit.
His mocking voice had a strange effect in the sacred edifice. ' You make a great
fuss about your " Church " as a universal panacea,' he went on, in a sneering tone.
"' The church was not born yesterday ; it has eighteen centuries of existence. If
it be really so powerful it has had plenty of time to make its power felt. Show
us that your church is able to solve the social question, and this will prove the
truth of your assertion.' We can only allow ourselves space for the leading points

424 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [June,

of the preacher's striking reply : ' The church has abolished slavery. The church
has ennobled work ; it has made the carpenter's tool sacred. The church has
created Charity. Go to Pompeii, to Herculaneum you will only find the houses
of the rich. Come to Paris, and you will find countless asylums the hostelries
of suffering humanity.'

" The ' Devil's Advocate ' rose to object that all this was ancient history.
The church had done good service in past time, he admitted, ' but now it is dead/
The preacher gave a vehement denial. ' No a thousand times, no ! The church
lives. All modern questions have been closely studied by the church. It was a
bishop Monsignor Gibbons who proposed the eight-hour day. The Pall Mall
Gazette showed us that Monsignor Manning, in spite of his eighty-two years, was
able to conjure up a social tempest. You speak of a coffin for a dead church ;
but I declare that it is creating not a coffin, but a cradle for the new-born hopes
of the world.' This time the Devil's Advocate was put to silence."

THE POPE ON CHRISTIAN UNITY.

(From the New York Sun, May 4.)

DURING the last generation the tendency of the doctrine and practice of the
most aggressive party in the Anglican Church, and in the Episcopal Church of this
country, has been toward Rome. In its extreme it has gone so far as to be almost
indistinguishable from Roman Catholic teaching, usage, and terminology. It has
established the conventual system. It has introduced the confessional. It
renders adoration to the Virgin Mary. In ritualistic Episcopal churches doctrines
distinctively Roman Catholic are taught, and their services are conducted in a
manner which might deceive a Roman Catholic himself into supposing that they
were wholly churches of his faith. The cup is denied to the laity by artful
methods. A ritualistic periodical recently ridiculed the use of the terms Com-
munion and Eucharist as a Protestant abomination, and urged that Mass only
should be the designation employed, as in itself an indication of Catholic faith. It
would banish every suggestion of Protestantism and bring in whatever savored of
Catholicism in the substance of doctrine, the form of words, usage, symbolism,
and tone and behavior.

This party, however, stops short at the authority and supremacy of the Pope.
It continues to reject that doctrine with all the obstinacy of the Protestantism
against which it is so free in expressing its hatred, and of which it is so contemp-
tuous. . . .

At any rate, this tendency toward Roman Catholic doctrine and sentiment,
which is now so strong in the Episcopal Church, will be likely to gain much sym-
pathy for the Pope in his general effort to bring about Christian unity on the basis
of the Roman Catholic faith ; and when once that sympathy is fully aroused, may
it not be strong enough to break down the sole remaining barrier of objection to
the Papal supremacy ? It is not reasonable to suppose that there will be any sur-
render of an organization like the Anglican Church. That would be practically
impossible ; but the drift of individual Episcopalians toward the Roman Church,
already somewhat marked, may be increased. Besides, the uprooting of faith by
the so-called advanced theologians, the teachers and professors of the new Biblical
criticism, is inducing in many religious natures the desire to find rest for their
souls in an authority in matters of faith and religion which permits no dispute
with its absolute infallibility.

1 89 5.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 425

CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY EDUCATION FOR ENGLAND,

(From St. Luke's for May.)

So, it seems, we are to have University education after all for our young men.
God be praised that our wise pastors see that it is good to keep Catholics in touch
with the national universities. Perhaps now the dream of Cardinal Newman will
be realized and there will be a Catholic College at Oxford. We believe he even
went so far as to buy land for such a purpose. If the Nonconformists have been
able to start one, and the Ritualists have theirs, we may hope to see a St. Augus-
tine's College started by our bishops for Catholic students. It would be a good
idea to let that be the form of the memorial of the thirteenth centenary of the com-
ing of St. Augustine to England. The amount of good such an establishment will
do at Oxford, just at the present time, will be enormous. It will be the piece of
leaven which will leaven the whole mass. Perhaps St. Benedict will soon once
more see his sons back there ; and the white-robed sons of St. Dominic again teach
St. Thomas's Summa by the banks of the Isis. And we may be sure the Society
will be at hand to take a prominent part in the work.

THE SOCIAL PROBLEM.

(From the Homiletic Review for May.)

HONEST pay for honest work is often better than charity. Just now there is
special demand for Christians, for churches, and for charity organizations to see to
it that those who in any way serve them receive full compensation for their toil.
Not from the side of infidelity, but from a devout believer, Father J. O. S. Hunt-
ington, we quote the following :

" There are many shams in our modern religionism. I know of few more
loathsome than the hypocrisy of the lady managers (what a singularly suggestive
title !) of an orphan asylum worth a half a million of dollars, who expect a hired
nurse-girl to be content with less than a private family would pay, because she is
working, as they say, ' for the Lord/ so afraid that she will not lay up sufficient
treasure in heaven that they rob her of half her wages on earth ; and, while they
tell her in unctuous phrases that ' it's all for the good of the dear little children,'
neglect to print her name among the benefactors of the ' institootion,' though the
proportion to the income of what she perforce contributes entitles her to head
the list.

" Educate, train the masses ! " this has become the cry in many quarters.
Make the most of their powers, give them the best opportunities for culture, and
teach them such things as will make them masters of their situation and exalt
them into better condition. The philosopher Fichte said : " Since Pestalozzi gave
the mighty impulse it has been generally admitted that only through an improved
education of the masses can the conditions be found for overcoming completely
the manifold evils in the state, in society, and in the family life, and for securing a
better future for coming generations. Still more generally can it be affirmed that
the destiny of a people, their prosperity and their decay, depend ultimately on the
training which the young receive. It follows from this as an axiom that the people
which possess the deepest and the most manifold culture down to the lowest stra-
tum of the population will also be the mightiest and happiest of the peoples of
that generation : invincible to neighbors, envied by contemporaries, and a model
for imitation."

A writer who quotes this passage adds the significant testimony of a French
officer, who attributes the recent victories of the Germans to their education. In

426 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [June,

a letter to a friend the officer says : "If you had lived, as I have, in Prussia, you
would understand how much truth there is in the saying, ' The German school-
master won the battle of Koniggratz.' . . . Never shall I forget how, when I
was with Bismarck at Varzin, in 1869, the chancellor, accompanied by his two sons
and myself, took pleasure in visiting the school-master of a small neighboring vil-
lage. Think of the effect of such an evidence of appreciation for a modest teacher
on the part of a man like Bismarck ! "

AMERICANISMS AND ARCHAISMS.

{Mr. George Newcomen in The Academy?)

" MY own experience is, that most so-called Americanisms, and, indeed, Irish-
isms also, are in reality archaisms of the English language, which have a habit of
surviving where one would least expect to find them. Many persons will tell you
that the phrase ' to let slide ' is an Americanism, but students of English literature
will call to mind the following stanza from Chaucer's ' Clerkes Tale ' :

" ' I blame him not that he considered nought
In time coming what might him betide,
But on his lust present was all his thought,
And for to hauke and hunt on every side ;
Well neigh all other cures let he slide,
And eke he n'old (and that was worst of all)
Wedden no wif for ought that might befall.'

"Several other illustrations of so-called Americanisms which occur in
Chaucer may be given. As, for example, ' I guess ' ; which is frequently to be
met with.

" ' With him ther was his sone, a younge squier,
A lover and a lusty bacheler,
With lockes crull as they were laide in presse.
Of twenty year of age he was I gesse.'

(Prologue, Canterbury Tales?)

"'Right 'is often used by Chaucer as the modern American uses it in the
phrase ' Right away ' :

" ' And al were it so that she riqht now were dede.'

(The Tale of Melibeus.)

" Many quaint words are commonly used in America, as ' pitcher ' for ' jug ' ;
* freshet ' for 'brook ' ; ' fall ' for ' autumn.' ' Homely ' is invariably used to ex-
press the absence of beauty as 'a homely girl ' for ' a plain girl.' An example of
such usage may be found in Shakspere :

" ' Upon a homely object love can wink.'

(Two Gentlemen of Verona, ii. 4.}

" In conclusion, I would sincerely express a hope that Americans may hold
fast to all ' isms ' which are not vulgarisms. Life would be unbearable if every
one talked like a book. It is far better to use ' isms ' than, in the words of an
illustrious Irishman, ' to hide one's nationality under a cloak of personal affecta-
tion.' "

1 895.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 427

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

VERY few successful Reading Circles can be found that are not deeply in-
debted to some professional teachers among the officers and members.
This prominence is not entirely due to the self-assertion requisite for good teach-
ing, but rather to the power of management which is a necessary element of
strength for every Reading Circle. Daily contact with inquiring minds is a steady
incentive to self-improvement, and enables the teacher to realize keenly the ad-
vantages resulting from a union of intellectual forces.

The charge has been made that city teachers seldom voluntarily attend
lectures, and rarely write for educational journals. Very soon, it is predicted,
those teachers who ignore educational literature will certainly be requested and
permitted to enjoy the sweets of private life. The coming teacher will be re-
quired to study men and affairs, the movements of popular thought, ponder well
the great problems of humanity, and so educate pupils that they become valuable
to society. Too long has the notion prevailed that any one can teach children ;
the time has come when the school-room needs the most gifted men and women.

Without making any progressive announcements or depreciating the history
of education in the past, some Catholic teachers of New York City have within
the past year followed a systematic plan of reading. It was decided at the out-
set that much of the experience of the rural teacher is not available for the practi-
cal work of teaching in a large city. Then an attempt was made to concentrate
attention on some of the words which are often used, though not sufficiently
understood, in modern educational literature. A list was selected of twenty-one
words which are here given : Classification, Morality, Perception, Pedagogy, Ap-
perception, Psychology, Gradation, Consciousness, Method, Discipline, Cognition,
Repetition, Education, Assimilation, Instruction, Subject, Volition, Object, Obser-
vation, Environment, Psychic. For the purpose of securing immediate results it
was arranged that each teacher should prepare a statement containing a brief
definition of every word in the list, and construct a short sentence showing its dis-
tinctive meaning among educationists. The books which were found most helpful
in this study of word-meanings were volumes VI., Elementary Psychology, and
XIX., Psychology applied to Teaching, of the International Education Series,
written by Joseph Baldwin, A.M., LL.D., professor of pedagogy in the University
of Texas. Another excellent book by the same author is entitled the Art of
School Management, published by Messrs. D. Appleton & Co., 72 Fifth Avenue,

New York City.

* * *

By consultation with eminent Catholic teachers we have secured favorable
mention for De Graffe's Methods of Teaching, published by Messrs. Bardeen Co.,
Syracuse, N. Y. ; Page's Theory and Practice of Teaching ; White's Elements of
Pedagogy and School Management ; Sheldon's Lessons on Objects, published by the
American Book Co., New York City. At a later date this list may be enlarged if
our friends among Catholic teachers will kindly send titles of books that have been
tested, together with the names of authors and publishers, to the Columbian Read-
ing Union, 415 West Fifty-ninth Street, New York City. We have still some
copies of the list of " Books for Teachers " printed last year, which will be sent to
any address on receipt of ten cents in postage. So far as we can discern the
signs of the times, busy teachers are seeking to find a few books that deserve
approval for practical value in school work. It is in accordance with common

428 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [June,

sense that the verdict of the most competent teachers should be rendered against
the self-constituted judges in educational matters who write with reform pens on
deodorized paper and evolve theories of child study that indicate a lamentable

ignorance of facts.

* * *

The latest edition of a well-known text-book on school management repre-
sents the sum and substance of the experience of the largest body of religious
teachers in the Catholic Church, devoted solely and entirely to the cause of
education. In the first part of the book the technical work of the teacher is
explained and developed. Each subject is taken up in its logical order, and so-
explained that the branch is discussed not only in its individual characteristics but
also in its bearings upon the other subjects that enter into an elementary course.
Thus, reading, penmanship, geography, history, etc., are carefully studied in their
underlying principles, separately considered ; then each is studied and examined in
its bearings upon other topics. Drawing, for instance, is discussed in its bearings
upon penmanship, geography, and manual training. And thus with other
topics. The Management of Christian Schools has been very favorably noticed
by leading educational publications regardless of denominational bias. The jury-
in normal methods and text-books awarded a special medal to this " Columbian
Edition " ; those who wonder at the success that crowns the Brothers' efforts in
their schools, and who were so favorably impressed with the exhibit made by the
Institute of the Brothers of the Christian Schools at the World's Fair, Chicago,
will find in this Management of Christian Schools the key to the situation. The
Twelve Virtues of a Good Master, comprising Part Second of the volume under
consideration, must be carefully read and meditated upon to be thoroughly appre-
ciated. Here we have a saint's view of the religious teacher's vocation and mis-
sion. But apart from this ideal so admirably depicted in The Twelve Virtues,
De La Salle here furnishes a pen-and-ink sketch of the Christian instruction, so
full in detail, so ample in scope, and so attractive in outline that no one engaged in
" the art of arts " the formation of character can fail to be vastly improved by its
perusal and greatly encouraged by its study.

De La Salle and his Methods, translated from the latest French edition of the
well-known Normal-School director, F. Lucard, deserves attentive study. Generally
speaking, Catholics consider De La Salle merely as the founder of the Society of the
Brothers of the Christian Schools ; but there is a much wider field of observation to
which attention should be paid. De La Salle is really the pioneer in the cause of ele-
mentary and higher scientific teaching. His Methods shows us the broad basis upon
which the Founder of the Christian Schools established his educational programme :
manual training ; the application of mathematics and natural science to practical pur-
poses; the correction of the wayward through the luxury of work ; the study of- natural
history, by visits to public gardens, trips to vantage grounds of observation ; the
introduction of simple industries before and after regular class-hours all these
ideas, supposed to be quite recent, were known to De La Salle, and introduced by
him. The First Part of this little work summarizes the life of De La Salle, and
may be dismissed with this mere reference. The Second Part embraces " The
Pedagogical Works of De La Salle," " Sources of Education," " . . . Means of
Education," " Disciplinary System," " Repressive Discipline," " Obstacles Encoun-
tered . . .," "... Testimonials in favor of De La Salle's Methods, etc."

The translation needs correction and bears evidence of haste to supply the
demand for the book at the World's Fair. But, despite some imperfect render-
ings of certain texts, De La Salle and His Methods deserves, and should receive,
a warm welcome among Christian teachers. De La Salle, though a priest,

1 89 5.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 429

founded a secular normal school for young men, not destined to become Brothers
of the Christian Schools. To-day, in Ireland, the Brothers have a normal school
for secular teachers, in which De La Salle and His Methods is one of the author-
ized text-books in teaching. Orders for the books mentioned above may be sent
to the Book Depository of the Christian Brothers, 48 Second Street, New York

City.

* * *

The endorsement of Miss Starr's methods of instruction in art by the several
committees in the art departments connected with the World's Columbian Expo-
sition have taken so definite a form that she feels at liberty to announce that she
received an award and diploma, not only from the special department of educa-
tional art in which her exhibit appeared, but one from the general committee of
awards at Washington, as it was expressly stated, " For excellent methods and
happy results."

Miss Starr was still more pleased at the awards given, by the Art Educational
Department, to her pupils with the declaration that, such was the general excel-
lence of the exhibit, more awards would have been given had the committee been
at liberty to bestow so many ; and a short time ago Miss Starr received a letter
from Mrs. Meredith, the chairman of the committee of lady managers on awards,
asking for the names of pupils deserving honorable mention, stating that every
such pupil would receive the Honorable Mention Diploma.

Miss Starr's lessons in art began in Chicago in 1857. For years she was not
only the first but the only teacher who attempted to give lessons from objects, casts,
to make studies from still life, from landscapes, heads, or figures. Many of her pu-
pils have filled, still fill, distinguished positions in art educational institutions, and
her methods have been repeatedly proved to be the same as those practised in the
most renowned European schools and studios, her pupils on entering them never
having been relegated to lower classes. The lessons still go on every morning in
her studio, 299 Huron Street, with undiminished enthusiasm. Her terms are the
same as in 1857 for pencil, charcoal, or water-colors, viz.: $12.00 for twenty-four
three-hours lessons. The courses of illustrated art lectures, given every year by
Miss Starr, are free to all her pupils. During the season that has just closed her
lectures on Art Literature were as follows : The Study of Beauty as a part of the
Universal Education. Friedrich Overbeck : His Early Life and Works ; life at
Vienna. Friedrich Overbeck : His Roman Life ; companions, compositions.
Friedrich Overbeck : The Triumph of Religion in Art ; Marriage in Cana of Gali-
lee. Forty Illustrations of the Four Gospels : Apostles and Evangelists. Several
Modern Masters and their Works. Monte Cassino : Its Story. Monte Cassino : To-
day. A Modern School of Ideal Art. Jean-Frangois Millet: His Life and Works.

* * *

Mr. Edward D. Farrell, Manager National Educational Association, 163 East
1 24th Street, New York City, has published a leaflet giving the programme of the
subjects to be discussed at Denver, Col., July 9-12, 1895. Each morning session
will be restricted to one of these important topics :

1. The Co-ordination of Studies in Elementary Education.

2. The Duty and Opportunity of the Schools in promoting Patriotism and
Good Citizenship.

3. The Instruction and Improvement of Teachers now at Work in the Schools^
Papers on the first topic are to be presented by President DeGarmo, of Swarth-

more College ; Professor Jackman, of the Cook County Normal School ; and Pro-
fessor Charles McMurry, of Illinois Normal University.

Discussion by Professor B. A. Hinsdale, University of Michigan ; Edward D.

43 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [June,

Farrell, Assistant Superintendent of Schools, New York City; James L. Hughes,
Inspector of Schools, Toronto, Canada.

The papers on the second topic are to be by Supervisor Martin, of Boston ;
Principal Johnson, of the Winthrop Training-School, Columbia, S. C; and by Super-
intendent Marble, of Omaha.

Discussion by W. C. Warfield, Superintendent of Schools, Covington ; C. B.
Gilbert, Superintendent of Schools, St. Paul ; William Richardson, Superintendent
of Schools, Wichita, Kansas.

On the third subject the leading speakers are to be Professor A. D. Olin, of
Kansas State University ; Professor Earl Barnes, of Stanford University ; and
Superintendent Jones, of Cleveland, Ohio.

Discussion by Mrs. A. J. Peavey, State Superintendent of Colorado ; Principal
James M. Green, State Normal School, New Jersey ; N. C. Schaeffer, State Super-
intendent of Pennsylvania ; W. R. Kirke, State Superintendent of Missouri.

Evening addresses on general topics are to be made by the President of the
Association; Chancellor W. H. Payne, of Nashville; Professor Joseph Le Conte,
of the University of California ; President Baker, of the University of Colorado,
and Mr. Hamilton W. Mable, editor of The Outlook.

In addition to these sessions of the General Association there will be two ses-
sions of each of ten departments. In each Department there will be a variety of
papers and discussions on topics of special interest to teachers, by eminent men
and women in each educational field.

Denver is so situated that attendance at this session of the National Educa-
tional Association will enable teachers to view the grandest scenery of the Rocky
Mountains, and visit some of the health and pleasure resorts of Colorado. Among
these may be mentioned Colorado Springs, Manitou, Glenwood Springs, Pike's
Peak, The Loop, the Garden of the Gods, Royal Gorge, Marshall Pass, and the
Black Canon. Excursions at half rates have been arranged to every notable point
in Colorado. The Denver and Rio Grande Railroad mentions six one-day trips,
one being an excursion to the top of Pike's Peak, and a choice of six routes
" Around the Circle." This journey affords a view of more noted and magnifi-
cent scenery than any other 1,000 miles of travel in the known world. A round-
trip ticket over this road from Denver to Salt Lake City will be sold for twenty
dollars, which is less than half price.

The Chicago and North-western Railroad offers an excursion to Salt Lake
City and return by the Rio Grande Railroad for twenty dollars. It also offers the
following :

From Denver to Salt Lake City, Butte City, Helena, and return over the
Northern Pacific Railroad via St. Paul to Chicago, for thirty dollars in addition to
the price paid for its ticket from New York to Denver and return. This trip will
enable the teachers to visit the Yellowstone Park.

From Denver to San Francisco and return, seventy dollars. From Denver to
Los Angeles via San Francisco and return, eighty dollars. From Denver to Port-
land via San Francisco and return to Denver via Boise City and Granger, ninety
dollars. From Denver to Portland via Salt Lake City, Boise City and return,
seventy dollars.

The regular fare from Ogden to San Francisco and return is fifty dollars, and,
up to this time, the railroad has made no change. The adoption of half rates
would make a reduction of twenty dollars on the California trips.

These are large figures ; but it must be borne in mind that one-third of the
territory of the United States lies west of Denver, that the railroads of Colorado

1 89 5.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 431

wind around eighty peaks over 13,000 feet high, traverse seventeen passes averag-
ing 11,000 feet in elevation, and that there are still seventy-two additional peaks
over 13,000 feet in height awaiting names.

The cost of the five days' trip through the Yellowstone Park, all expenses
paid from Livingston and return, will be $49.50. A one-day trip into this wonder-
land, from Livingston to Monmoth Hot Springs Hotel and return, may be made
for five dollars.

The cost of transportation from this city to Denver and return via the New
York Central or Pennsylvania Railroad is $48.50, plus two dollars membership
fee. The fare on the West Shore, the Erie, or the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad is
$46.50, plus the membership fee. These rates are one-half the regular fare. The
membership fee entitles each teacher to a bound volume of the proceedings of the
meeting.

A double berth from New York to Denver costs eleven dollars each wayi
Two persons may occupy it without additional cost. Meals en route will average
fifty cents. The trip will extend over three days and two nights, or three nights
and two days, according to the time of starting. Board can be obtained in the
majority of Denver Hotels at two dollars per day.

Teachers must leave New York on the second, third, fourth, or fifth of July in
order to secure the benefit of the half- rate fares, and return before September

first.

* * *

Reading Circles and organizations of women active in self-improvement should
direct their attention to the first number of a series of booklets treating of woman's
social and ethical influence in the Christian world, published by the author at Am-
herst, Mass., which has elicited this emphatic endorsement from Helen Raymond
Grey :

" The Christian Woman in Philanthropy, a most enjoyable, interesting, and
refreshing what ? I believe it should technically be called a pamphlet, but as
that name does not seem to mean enough in this case, let us say a small book,
which is put forward in paper and deserves much better guise. Miss Goessmann
is the author of it. Her style is particularly pleasing and quite individual. She
shows the results of a wide range of thoughtful reading and must undoubtedly pos-
sess a wonderful memory the kind of memory which men sometimes imagine no
woman possesses. Her book has one unique charm among many others : it in-
structs in the line of what woman has done in the charities of the world, and it
does so without boring. Are there not few who instruct without being dull ? I
regret to say that my childish idea of an instructor was ' one who is very tedious
and tiresome,' and alas ! I am not quite over the belief yet. So here comes Miss
Goessmann, entertaining, interesting, and withal earnest and positively enlighten-
ing. For once I have nothing to say but the wannest praise and heartiest recom-
mendation of her book. It will make Christian women think of their obligation
of something beyond the universal ' demnition grind,' of some responsibility, secon-
dary though it of course must be, outside of the circumscribed limits of their homes.
Oh ! why will women, and very, very good women, say righteously ' Charity begins
at home,' and let it end as well as begin there ? Some people have no homes.
God help them ! where does their charity come in ?

" We owe Miss Goessmann our thanks for her book. Let admiration for the
women she writes of not be the extent of the influence of her work ; rather let it
excite us, as Christian women, to emulation of their acts and philanthropies, and
let's all deserve although of course we sha'n't get it to have ourselves put into
so charming a book."

432 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [June, 1895.

The report of the National Bureau of Education on the public libraries in the
United States and Canada for the year 1891 has just been published. ,For nearly
sixty years the power of public libraries has been recognized in this country as a
potent factor in public education. Beginning, as the previous report of 1876 says,
as an adjunct of the district schools in New York and Massachusetts, the move-
ment has spread until every State in the Union can boast of institutions which, for
carefulness in selection and cataloguing, can compare favorably with the best of
their kind in Europe. The importance of these institutions, with their carefully
selected works on every branch of history and science, cannot be too highly esti-
mated, and it is a fact of which we may be proud that our own State, and especi-
ally our own city, is not far behind in number, as well as quality, of public
libraries. Since the first report of the bureau much has been done toward a syste-
matic classification and cataloguing, and, although each librarian may have a
leaning toward some individual system, yet these systems are gradually tending,
under the influence of the American Library Association, by combining the good
qualities of each, toward a classification both simple and useful, and still on a
scientific basis.

From its establishment, in 1867, the United States Department of Education has
recognized the influence which libraries can have on the education of the masses,
and from time to time special reports have been carefully prepared and issued.
The report of 1876, which took five years for its compilation, gave a list of 3,649
libraries of over 300 volumes, with an aggregate of 12,276,964. That of 1884-85,
on the same basis, showed an increase of 1,869 libraries, or nearly 54 per cent ;
while the number of volumes had increased to 20,622,076, or about 66 per cent.
The report now to hand only includes such institutions as possess 1,000 volumes
and over. These are in number 3,803, with a total of 31,167,354 books and pam-
phlets, an increase of 27.35 P er cent, over 1884-85, or 50 books to every 100, and
one library to 16,462 of the population. The average size of the libraries is set
down at 8,194. Three are given as having a total of over 500,000 the Library of
Congress at Washington, 869,843, which ddes not include those of the House of
Representatives and other government institutions, which are separately tabulated ;
Boston Public Library, 556,283 exclusive of pamphlets and Harvard Univer-
sity, 570,097. The next in size is that of the University of Chicago, with 380,000
bound volumes, while there are twenty-six others having between 100,000 and
300,000. M. C. M.

IT is hoped that, whenever it be possible, our readers will
patronize those who patronize us through our advertising col-
umns. THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE carries the announce-
ments of only such firms as we have every reason to believe
are first class and honorable in their business dealings. Most of
our readers will have occasion to purchase such goods as are
here advertised. They can be assured of doing the Magazine
a favor and of getting what they bargain for by purchasing
from these firms, and particularly so if they will mention THE
CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE. Because we try to be choice in
selecting advertisements we are always ready to investigate any
complaint ; while, on the other hand, advertisements that appear
should command a liberal patronage.

1 When burning rays beset the days,
And Nature lies with languorous eyes
In golden apathy."

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXI.

JULY, 1895.

No. 364.

CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY.

BY REV. LUCIAN. JOHNSTON.

HAT the Catholic Church is desirous of
making all possible concessions to ob-
tain church unity is apparent enough,
but honest endeavors ought not in jus-
tice to be fooled by the false hope
that Rome will or can sacrifice one of
her fundamental principles ; above all
that the Roman Pontiff can step down
from his throne to sit " primus inter pares," for the Papacy
must be our basis for any negotiations looking towards unity.
It ' ^refore follows that a careful study of Papal history ought
to occupy much of the attention of all peacemakers, and it is
with this object in view that they are requested to follow us
into a period of history where a cursory reading will perhaps
clear up many misconceptions of its true character and claims,
since it is a period full of lessons for church-union advocates
at least as regards that great stumbling-block in their way the
Pope. We presume that these good people desire unity because
they believe it to have been the intention of Christ ; in other
words, because it is the natural state of the church, a mark of
its Christ-origin. Now, the period we are to discuss most clearly
shows, at least to our mind, that the Papacy is the bulwark of
church unity, since all the fierce attacks then directed against
it arose principally from princes whose sole object was to dis-
member the Universal Church into so many national churches
by destroying the international influence of Rome. The great

VOL. LXI.

1895.

434 CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. [July,

Western Schism was the effect of the Avignon residence of the
popes, that at bottom was an attempt to make the pope French,
and the results of it all were the various Concordats or Pragma-
tic Sanctions which in their essence and intention were nothing
less than the same attempt in a different form to nationalize
the church. Nationalism was at the bottom of the Avignon
" Captivity," nationalism was at the bottom of those sanctions,
and in every case were they attempts to shorten Papal power,
because the Papacy of its very nature is the guardian of church
unity or universality which is the same irreconcilably opposed
to nationalism, i. e., to separateness, to church dismemberment.
We assert that nationalism in a word, politics was at the
bottom of those fierce attacks upon Papal power in the period
from the beginning of the fourteenth up to well-nigh the mid-
dle of the fifteenth century.

EARLY ATTEMPTS TO DEGRADE THE PAPACY.

Before coming to facts it is interesting to note the tone of
the contemporary writers who treated the question of church
and state. John Huss has been called "the Precursor" of the
Revolution, but he is simply a copyist of theories long before
boldly and more ably broached by Occam, Marsiglio of Padua,
and Jean de Jandun, in all of whom we find taught plainly the
absolute dependence of church upon state. The state with them
is supreme. Occam gave the emperor a right to depose the
pope should he fall into heresy, and, since he admits that the
pope can err as well as a general council, it needs no great
power of discernment to understand how such doctrines in the
hands of an unscrupulous emperor would reduce the pope and
church in general to a condition of abject servitude. The " De-
fensor (1326) Pads," the joint work of Marsiglio and Jean de
Jandun, went even further. The pope in their hands is simply
a representative of the general council ; in fact church govern-
ment is only a question of expediency, not necessary for salva-
tion. The council itself requires confirmation from the state.
All the pope has to do is to signify to the state the advisability
of summoning a council. The emperor convokes and directs it
as he would a diet of the empire ; punishes ecclesiastics who
are disobedient i. e., to his orders. In a word, " Marsiglio re-
gards all the judicial and legislative power of the church as in-
herent in the people and delegated by them to the clergy. The
community and the state are everything ; the church is put com-
pletely in the background ; she has no legislative or judicial

1 895.] CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. 435

power, and no property." * Luther and Calvin even hesitated
before such subversive propositions, yet this book appeared
about the year 1326 a significant fact which I beg the reader
to keep in mind. A second preliminary consideration is also
worthy of note.

Up to the period under discussion the states of Europe were
united in one great Christian family, whose international relations
were substantially moulded on the principle of obedience to the
common father at Rome. That this principle was not always
observed in practice we deny not ; no principle of international
law is invariably obeyed. But it was nevertheless admitted and
pretty generally put in practice. Now, however, it was approach-
ing its end, and in its place was slowly but surely making way
another principle which later on found its full expression in
Macchiavelli's Principe. I mean the principle of self-aggrandise-
ment in a word, of " Balance of Power " ; a principle of its very
nature opposed to such a concept of states as brothers, holding
them rather as " tame vipers in a glass vase, each seeking to get
its head above the others "; in a word, the spirit of concentrated
Nationalism was in the womb of time its birth is not far off.
Soon will state separate from state, national characteristics be-
come intensely pronounced, literature itself will discard the uni-
versal Latin tongue for the sake of national idioms, and a
necessary consequence we will see, as a first symptom, princes
grow jealous of one another's hold upon the pope and jealous
of the pope's hold upon their subjects. The Emperor Louis of
Bavaria was no fool when he accepted the dedication to himself
of the " Defensor Pacis " it was a new code of international
law and a guarantee that religion, at least in Germany, would
be German, let it be Catholic anywhere it might like.

After these preliminaries we can now come to facts, and see
how these principles are put in practice. In a memorial laid
before the Council of Constance is the following: " Occasio et
fomentum schismatis erat discordia inter regna ; inter se prius
divisa de papatu contendentibus se pariformiter conjunxerunt.
Quae quidem discordia si inter regna non processisset schisma
non tarn leviter inchoatum fuisset." With this in their hands
will any one accuse us of ignorance when we assert that politics,
national jealousy, was at the bottom of the schism ? A contem-
porary document here asserts that the schism was occasioned
and fomented by national antipathies. True it does not tell

* History of the Popes, Pastor, vol. i. p. 79.

436 CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. [July,

us what they were. Perhaps the writers of the memorial looked
upon their assertion as too true to need proof. That we can
see for ourselves.

" Pendant la lutte entre Boniface VIII. et le roi de France,
on avait vu pour la premiere fois, en France, le roi appeler des
decisions du pape a un concile general, dont il semblait ainsi
admettre la superiority par rapport au Saint-Siege : cette ide"e
ne sera perdue : on la retrouvera lors du grand schisme d'Occi-
dent, et aussi, avec 1'afrlrmation de la pleine independance du pou-
voir royal, dans la declaration Gallicane de 1682. A travers les
siecles, Louis XIV. donne" la main a Philippe le Bel." * We
quote this passage because it gives us a good insight into the
secret motives of a prince from whom came the fatal invitation
to the pope that he transfer his residence from Rome to Avig-
non. Rome, it is true, was unluckily just then not a particular-
ly desirable place of residence in consequence of the fratricidal
struggles desolating the whole peninsula, but that the overbear-
ing oppressor of Boniface VIII. could have had any but sinister
motives in inviting his successor to France is hardly tenable.
And looking at it in the light of subsequent events, we think we
see pretty clearly that his motive was nothing less than a deep-
laid plot to acquire by fraud that preponderating influence over
the Papacy which he could not obtain by force from proud Boni-
face.* Perhaps Philip himself saw not the ultimate aim of his
uncertain attempt, but his successors comprehended it exactly.
They saw that at the bottom it was a blow at the universal
character of the church, a foundation of nationalism, of that
rank, putrid Gallicanism which the " Eldest Daughter of the
Church " and their " Most Catholic Majesties'" have fostered
with so much care in the mud of the Seine.

. It were unfair to withhold the meed of praise for learning
and zeal from many of the Avignon popes so justly deserving
of it, but their virtues must not blind us to the fact that they
were " without exception more or less dependents of France.
Frenchmen themselves and surrounded by a college of cardinals
in which the French element predominated, they gave a French
character to the government of the church. This character
was at variance with the principle of universality inherent in it
and in the Papacy. The church had always been the represen-
tative of this principle in contradistinction to that of isolated
nationalities " (Pastor, p. 58). " It was a deep-laid plan of
policy on Philip's part," says Schlegel, " to fix the residence of

* Histoire Gtntrale, Lavisse-Rambaud, vol. iii. p. 313.

1895-] CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. 437

the popes for ever within his territories, in order more easily to
extort their consent to all his selfish projects, ... a policy
by which the popes, during seventy years, were kept in a state
of absolute dependence on the court of France." A national
church in place of a universal was the aim of that Avignon
invitation ; and what better way to nationalize religion than by
nationalizing its head, by stripping the Papacy of its universal
prerogatives? Of course this state of affairs could not last;
the wonder is that it lasted so long. After a long interval
Gregory XI. crosses the Alps to return for good to his deso-
lated patrimony to proud Rome, whose churches, that once
were filled with gorgeous ceremonials and music, now resounded
with the neighing of horses stabled therein. The remedy, how-
ever, came too late. France had too long been accustomed to
regard the Papacy as a fief of the king, and was ready to snatch
the first opportunity to reduce it to its former national character.
Urban VI., with his hot-headed virtue, gave it quickly
enough. And the French cardinals, sacrificing the church to
their hatred of him, began that woeful schism by electing the
" executioner of Cesena," the anti-pope, Clement VII. Charles
V. here again was at the same old game as his predecessor,
Philip, with his hands, too, full of trumps. " The free and in-
dependent position which the new pope (Urban VI.) had from
the first assumed was a thorn in the side of the king, who
wished to bring back the Avignon days. . . . Charles V.,
therefore, secretly encouraged the cardinals to take the final
step of electing a rival pope " (Pastor, p. 127). And when the
evil was consummated with no less truth than glee did he ex-
claim, "I am now Pope!" In truth was he. " Clement VII.
was himself the servant of the French court ; he had to put up
with every indignity offered him by the arrogance of the cour-
tiers, and to purchase their favor at the cost of the church in
France, thus subjected to the extortions of both Paris and
Avignon" (Pastor, p. 132). Perhaps this is unwelcome to many
whose patriotism naturally leads them to think better of the
" Eldest Daughter of the Church " than others more indifferent.
To this day in their minds the legitimacy of Clement is at least
discussed. Not to enter into this lengthy discussion, we merely
quote the celebrated Chancellor Salutatio, who thus apostro-
phizes the recreant cardinals ; " Quis non videt vos non verum
,Papam quaerere sed solum Pontificem natione Gallicum
(Pastor, p. 131). " Quis non videt." Therefore a notorious fact
that Clement's election was inspired by no very honorable

438 CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. [July,

motives. That many thinking and holy souls were then tossed
in anxious doubt passes without contradiction, but those who
held the reins of power saw clearly just where the real issue
lay. " All the Latin nations, with the exception of Northern
and Central Italy and Portugal, took the part of Clement VII.,
and Scotland, the ally of France, naturally also adhered to the
French pope. The attitude of England was determined by the
enmity existing between that country and France ; . . .
the split in the church and the conflict between the two nations
became blended together." England clearly enough saw that
her old enemy was seeking to Gallicize the Papacy, to make the
church a national, French affair. At bottom it was a poli-
tical job, and therefore England resisted it as such. Why ?
Gallicanism had become so rampant that even prophecy caught
the infection. The hermit Telesphoros predicts most wonder-
ful things, all of which somehow or other amount to nothing
but a " programme of French hopes and political aspirations "
(p. 153), as if the Divinity itself had become French. Of course
the German emperor could play at that game just as well ; so
another prophet, Gamaleon by name, boomed up German poli-
tics. How well had the doctrines of the "\Defensor Pacis "
taken root ! We have seen how it was an apotheosis of the
secular power to which the church is subjected like any other
institution, and now we see how Charles V. puts into practice
those very same principles by indirectly nationalizing religion.
And note this, which is so much to our purpose. To succeed
his only means was to belittle the Papacy, to strip it practically
at least of its international character, of its wealth, of its pre-
rogatives. It was the first great blow at the unity of the
church, and, by more than a coincidence, the really first blow
of any moment against the Papacy. Here the two- were united.
The unity of the church was inseparably bound up with the
Papacy. The latter was struck first; Luther gave the coup de
grace to unity. So, then, Avignon was an attempt to national-
ize the church ; so also the anti-popes, and now, thirdly and
lastly, we will see how these two successive attempts culminated
in really giving the church a more national, separate, dismembered
appearance than ever before possessed by the forced grant of
the Pragmatic Sanctions to France and Germany.

" Au mois de Mai, 1438, le roi Charles VII. reunit les
eveques dans la Saint-Chapelle de Bourges. Vingt-trois (des
decrets du concile de Bale) notamment ceux qui limitaient les
pouvoirs du pape sur les dioceses etrangers et augmentaient

1 895.] CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. 439

(Tautant par la les pouvoirs du rot furent declares applicables
en France pas une ordinance royale, connue sous le nom de
' Pragmatique ' Sanction de Bourges " (Lavisse-Rambaud, vol.
iii. p. 336). Here we note two things of importance. First,
this sanction was the work of the king from beginning to end.
He convokes the assembly like a lot of school-children and
gives its decrees authority by his sanction. Secondly, the
decrees of the Council of Basle approved are chiefly those
which curtail the authority of the pope. We do not think that
great powers of perception are required to discern in all this
the third act in the drama we are studying. For a third time
crops out the old attempt to nationalize the church, and, as
before, the means adopted are a curtailing of papal authority.
How instinctively these separatists rise in arms against the pope!

The German concordat was less bold, though more boldly
presented to Eugenius for his signature. In its essence it is a
national document, looking to the well-being of the German
interest ; in fact, it is a conditional surrender of the pope for
the sake of peace ; or rather, a treaty between the pope and an
entirely independent German spiritual power. Like the Prag-
matic Sanction, it curtails the papal power by subjecting it to
the disposition of a general council. Both are national docu-
ments aimed at the Papacy and the Catholicity of the church.
" Les pragmatiques et les concordats, qui e"dictaient pour cer-
taines pays des regies particulieres, tendaient a 1'^tablissement
d* Eglises nationales, dominees par les rots, ce qui d'un cote favor-
isait Tav^nement des pouvoirs temporels absolus, et de 1'autre
menacait U unite constitutionelle de V Eglise"*

For the benefit of any one who has found it difficult to
hold the thread of our argument through all these historical
references we will sum up. From Philip le Bel up to Charles
VII. there went on increasing with time a spirit of nationaliza-
tion of the church, taught by Occam and the authors of the
" Defensor Pads," put into practice by the undue preponder-
ance acquired by France during the Avignon period, by the
breaking out of the Schism, and by the framing of the Prag-
matic Sanction of Bourges and the German concordat. Now,
side by side with this spirit of separateness, waxed stronger
and stronger a kindred spirit of opposition to the Papacy,
manifested in precisely the same manner. We therefore call
the attention of all sincere church-union advocates to this strik-
ing parallel in the hope that a study of it will help in concili-

* Lavisse-Rambaud, vol. iii. p. 345.

440 CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. [July,

ating their minds towards the Papacy, upon which they may be
led to look not any longer as a human machine built upon
mere traditions and resting in ignorance, but as the very corner-
stone of church unity. Why? Because the spirit of nationalism
in spiritual matters is a spirit of separateness, disunion, dismem-
berment, schism, and the mere fact of its being irreconcilably
opposed to the Papacy clearly proves the latter to be of its
nature a spirit of union.

CHURCH AND STATE IN AMERICA.

Our fellow-citizens will not, we trust, take offence if we
insinuate that this particular study is one particularly needed by
them, upon whose imaginations the idea of nationalism has
seized with such force.

The Monroe doctrine has been pushed so far beyond the
intention of its author that it is being extended even into the
domain of religion. Why, for instance, is the reproach of
foreigners so constantly flung at us but because we recognize
the spiritual supremacy of an Italian.

To show how really intense the spirit of nationalism is in
this country let us digress for a few moments upon that ques-
tion of union of church and state. We hear asserted on all sides
that America is the blessed land of separation of church and
state, as if the mere absence of religiously biased legislation
was a proof. That being the case, we can just as logically
argue that this is not even a Christian country, for outside of
a casual reference to God in the Constitution where is there in
the breadth and length of our written laws any expression
which can be possibly construed into an establishment or legal
recognition of Christianity ? And yet this is in very truth a
Christian state because the spirit, if not the name, of Christian-
ity is everywhere. It permeates our legislation almost uncon-
sciously, our social relations are determined by it, it is in the
very air which we breathe ; and though the name of Christ be
never mentioned, even prohibited, nevertheless would this nation
still be Christian to its heart of hearts.

Now return to where we started. It is asserted that here
rules the grand principle of separation of church and state
because their union is prohibited, at least not expressly admitted
by law. From what we have just seen this conclusion does
not logically, as such, follow from the premises. So then, to
determine the question we must inquire if the spirit of separa-
tion of church and state permeates the American people. This

1895.] CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. 441

we beg leave to doubt so far as to feel a suspicion that the
American people implicitly accept a union of church and state,
however unaware they may be of thus practically contradicting
their principles ; nay, that possibly they go farther and place
the church in a position of inferiority or dependence. How
often do our well-meaning Protestant brethren object to the
Catholic Church because (as they honestly believe) it is opposed
to the spirit of American institutions by owing allegiance to a
foreign head. In other words, they will not accept a faith if
its principles be opposed to those of the state. Let that faith
be of Divine origin, let it teach lucid dogma and a high moral
law, that is not the question ; it is not in accord with their
political principles, and therefore cannot be accepted. Have
we not seen in these latter days a Protestant convention (we
forget the name and date) so far forget its dignity as an inde-
pendent Christian church as to assert that their church was of
its nature peculiarly adapted to a republican form of govern-
ment, thereby implicitly recognizing its inferiority to the state?

IS THERE REALLY SEPARATION IN THE UNITED STATES ?

Now then, what becomes of our vaunted separation of church
and state ? Implicitly is here admitted its very opposite, name-
ly, the doctrine that precedence must be given to the state.
Then the state can, if it thinks it conducive to the well-being
of the community, modify the church, legislate for the church,
even establish or disestablish the church. Ah, but the state ex-
pressly declares its unwillingness to interfere ! Assumedly. But
it is not impossible that in the far future a different condition
of affairs may induce the state to think fit to contradict its
past traditions even so far as to establish a church, in which
event those who now look upon the state as so supreme would
logically be forced to accept said church. If they will not ac-
cept a church whose principles are at variance with those of
the state because the latter is supreme", then logically they
must accept a church established by the state. It were a con-
tradiction to give up a church on account of the state, and to
give up the state on account of the church. A disbelief in
union of church and state because such union is opposed to
the principles of this country implies a belief in said union
in case it should turn out to be in harmony with them. Not
to accept the Catholic Church because it is un-American is a clear
recognition of union of church and state, or rather, what is the
same thing in an intensified degree, of subjection of church to

44 2 CHURCH UNITY AND THE PAPACY. [July,

state. Now, this is nothing but pure unadulterated nationalism in
spiritual affairs, in comparison with which Gallicanism, Josephism,
and Bismarckism are shadows. It is the characteristic of this
country from the most cultivated Episcopal bishop down to the
most ignorant experience-narrator in a negro camp-meeting.

UNITY INCOMPATIBLE WITH NATIONALISM IN SPIRITUALS.

To come back to our argument : we have seen how in the
past this spirit of nationalism, though a good thing within pro-
per limits, is thoroughly incompatible with the organic unity of
the church, how it led to a schism, the consequences of which
are still felt. So, then, to those good souls sincerely seeking to
heal the wounds inflicted upon the spiritual body of Christ we
deem it not an unwise advice to say, with all due respect for na-
tional pride, that, so long as they allow this spirit of intense na-
tionalism to interfere in spiritual concerns with which it proper-
ly has nothing to do, they may as well abandon all attempts at
reuniting the dispersed fold of Christ.

Lastly, we have seen how this spirit of nationalism, which
took its being at the dawn of the fourteenth century, was from
infancy an irreconcilable foe of the Papacy. Between the two
peace could not exist, because the latter is the expression of
internationalism or universality, whilst the former was that of
separateness and individuality in the extreme. This question
then appears to us worth asking, viz., if unity is incompatible
with nationalism and nationalism is the antithesis of the Papacy,
does it not logically follow that the Papacy is the best guaran-
tee of unity, of Catholicity? The only basis in fact for any
attempt at organic unity?

A word more to do away with a natural misunderstanding.
We would be sorry indeed to have our criticism of nationalism
interpreted in a hostile sense, for nothing is further from our
intentions. We beg leave to believe that American institutions
are no dearer to any 'than ourselves, and we most firmly believe
that the Papacy oversteps its legitimate bounds when it un-
necessarily interferes with the politics of any nation. But our
object has simply been to show that nationalism, though good
in its proper sphere, has no place in spiritual matters ; that when
it does attempt to enter it is a cause of schism ; and we have
contrasted the Papacy with nationalism merely to show that
when nationalism, by overstepping its proper limits, became a foe
to the unity of the church, it naturally became a foe of the
Papacy, which is the concrete expression of that unity.

1895-1

IR WINSCROFT.

443

IRWINSCROFT.

BY F. C. FARINHOLT.

NY stranger straggling by chance into Nashboro
neighborhood was to be treated courteously, but
in the memory of the oldest cousin of the clan
there had never been but one stranger who had
become really one of themselves.

When David Marschner, the rich lumberman who had come
South to get richer, brought his daughter to Irwinscroft to
board with the Misses Irwin while he lived in his camps, and
he and she duly appeared that first Sunday at St. Mark's as
"church people" and communicants, the first families decided
at once to call upon them. So much respect was due Cousin
Maria and Cousin Marthy Irwin, and so much recognition was
demanded by the new-comers' membership in the Episcopal
Church.

But the girl found herself insufferably bored by the gentle
complacency of her visitors, and refused to see some of the
older ladies, an unpardonable sin in Nashboro nothing but
sudden death can excuse one to company there and had once,
in a mad moment, insisted that some of the younger people
should take cigarettes and beer !

With a certain justness which formed part of her character
she accepted the isolation which followed as the result of her
own conduct ; but she was none the less beginning to find the
loneliness unbearable. When, therefore, the Misses Irwin's
nephew and idol came to dine with them one day Vida was
radiantly cordial to him ; not because of his relationship to her
hostesses, nor yet for his distinction as the congressman from
his district and his reputation for brilliant talent, but because
in the first flashing glance of his dark eyes and the first grace-
ful step he made toward her, she recognized in him that ful-
ness of life that she felt effervescing through every fibre of her
own being.

He followed her out on the veranda after dinner.

" I have heard," he said, " that you scandalized some of my
discreet young cousins by offering them a cigarette. I shall be
edified if you will take one from me."

444 I R WIN ' SCR OF T - [ J u ly i

There was a laughing challenge in his tone as he held out
his case to her, which she accepted by taking a cigarette and
lighting it from the match he struck for her.

The scene around him was unchanged in all its familiar
details : the peacock sunned himself on the horse-block under
the willow-tree ; the guineas made noisy gabble as they
scratched the ground beneath the prim box hedges ; and the
negroes, returning to the fields after the noon rest, led the
mules along the lane and chanted lazy monotones just as it had
all been in the June middays ever since he could remember.

But the young woman who sat perched on the veranda rail-
ing, framed in the wreath of the blossoming rose-vine, and puff-
ing little rings of smoke which seemed to linger around her
shapely head, was a distinct innovation.

He laughed as he looked at her, a low musical laugh ; there
was nothing about the man which did not partake of the charm
of his personality.

" It was the incongruousness of your being here in this
sleepy old place which amused me," he explained in reply to
her glance of inquiry while he did not seek to veil the fact
which his eyes told, that the incongruity was a highly delightful
one to him.

" I do not find it amusing," she replied bitterly. " I some-
times fancy," she added more lightly, " that the soul of some
musician who was once false to his art has been imprisoned in
me and sent here for a purgatory."

"Come in and give him utterance, won't you?" he asked
with a cadence of entreaty, and starting towards the parlor.

" Oh ! I never play a piano," she declared as he was about
to raise the lid. " The musician sometimes tries to breathe out
his soul through the violin, but his efforts have of late all ended
in wails."

"They will not do so now," he declared with that reassur-
ing caress of manner which few women could resist in him, and
handing her her violin he took up his own old guitar, which
always stood ready for him here.

They tuned the instruments out on the veranda and played
until the June sunshine and fragrance seemed to be woven into
their harmonies, but presently a discord seemed to enter and
Vida threw down her violin. Irwin, however, took it up at once
and began to improvise, as he had a fashion of doing.
Perhaps it was the power of his playing, or it may have been
but the culmination of the girl's long loneliness, but as she

1 895.] IRWINSCROFT. 445

felt the music thrill through and through her she suddenly slid
down on the floor, and bowing her head upon the bench, she
sobbed aloud.

He was totally unprepared for such a scene ; but knowing
women better than most men, he made no clumsy attempts at
comfort ; he plucked instead two white rose-buds, and laying them
on the violin near her, he quietly slipped away.

It was an action to be remembered gratefully whenever
humiliation at the outbreak threatened to overwhelm Vida, and
the gratitude was deepened when a few days later, chancing to
overtake her on the road, he sprang from his horse and walked
by her side, without by glance or word showing the faintest
recollection of the position in which he had last seen her.

It was she who referred to it when they lingered at the fork
of the road where he would turn to go home.

" Teach me to play as you do," she said abruptly but
beseechingly.

" I teach ! " he exclaimed, flattered by her earnestness.
"Why I don't know a note. 'I pipe but as the linnets sing.'"

" Then your talent is indeed wonderful," she replied, lower-
ing her voice as the memory of his music came back like a
spell upon her. "You made me weep, and I am seldom moved
to tears. I am a hard woman, generally."

" I have heard," he said as he looked down into her face,
"that the crusts of volcanoes are hard."

The quick flash that answered him showed how well he had
guessed of inward fires, and the sudden warming of her face
and manner made it as unpleasant as he wished her to believe
it was for him to say, as he presently did :

" I cannot reconcile myself to not seeing you soon again.
It is very hard for me to have to say good-by."

Like the sinking of the sun which was now setting was the
shadow that fell over the girl in spite of herself.

" Are you going away ? " she asked, a trifle tremulously.

Wilfred Irwin was not the man to make sacrifices. Ideals
of duty to be done troubled him as little as regret for duties
left undone, but the innate chivalry of the Southern man made
him feel that he must be honest with this unprotected girl.

" It isn't that I am going away," he said with a sort of
caress in his tone, " but you see I am a married man " (at the
words the vision of his delicate wife rose before them both and
looked colorless), " and in this backwoods world a married
man is not permitted to visit a young lady."

446 IR WINSCROFT. [July,

" Then you make it good-by," she declared, walking away
from him with an uplifting of the head but a certain hesitancy
of step which brought him to her side in an instant.

" It shall not be good-by unless you wish it so," he answered.
" It isn't for myself that I feared their petty talk. You must
know/' he continued, as she still looked away from him, " that
I would not willingly give up the rare pleasure of companion-
ship with a woman like you."

She glanced up at him now a strange mixture of many
emotions in the depths of her brown eyes and then without a
word turned into a woodland by-path and was lost to his sight
before he realized that she had left him.

After that the old ladies saw their nephew oftener than
they had done since his boyhood. And young Doctor Haugh-
ton passing the Irwinscroft gate one July twilight witnessed a
lingering parting which, little as he was given to romancing,
made him feel a chill as if he had beheld a young girl's soul
in peril.

He was full of altruistic enthusiasms, this backwoods physi-
cian ; full of the wish and the will to do whatsoever his hand
found to do for the good of his fellow-creatures ; and as he
rode home that evening he wondered that he had not before
realized the loneliness of the girl at Irwinscroft, and he resolved
to do all that he could to lighten it.

He would win Miss Marschner's confidence and make him-
self necessary to her ; then perhaps she would not feel the need
of Wilfred Irwin's dangerous society. He wished that he could
call Ellis Brehan to his aid as he generally did in all his
plans but Ellis was Irwin's sister-in-law, and therefore unavaila-
ble. Besides, in the strength of his purely unselfish resolution
he felt himself equal to the task, and he undertook it after his
fashion with the most single-minded directness. He, being a
student of human nature and a philosopher, never once remem-
bered the forceful adages concerning the danger of edged tools
or fire which would immediately have occurred to a common-
place man.

Miss Maria Irvvin, however, became painfully conscious of
the imminence of a calamity such as she believed a love affair
between her favorite and "that wild Yankee girl," as she
characterized Vida in her own mind, would be. And the
woman who saw only ^kindness in Wilfred's frequent visits took
alarm at those of Haughton.

She waited impatiently for the return of Irwin, his wife, and

1 895 .] IR WINSCROP r. 447

her sister from their month's stay in the mountains, and she
scarcely waited for Ellis Brehan to get into the room on her
first visit to Irwinscroft before she said vigorously :

" Ellis, why in the name o' peace don't you an' Nash
Haughton get married ? You all would suit."

" That means," interrupted her hearer, " that you think we
are two of a kind both cranks."

" You're right good at guessin' " Miss Maria replied ; she was
nothing if not candid. " Both of you stuff your heads with
books that you an' nobody else can understand ; an' then you
get together an' talk one another into believin' that you believe
all sort o' hifalutin things about the brotherhood of man an'
the deceitfulness of riches, an' the Lord knows what else. An'
you think you an' your tribe are a-goin' to lead this old world
away from the flesh-pots of Egypt like a whole set o' Moseses.
You clean forget the desert between Egypt an' the Promised
Land an' you do like you never heard the preachers on total
depravity. Then Nash he sits up an' thinks it's smart, I reckin,
to talk of Jesus of Nazareth in the same tone he would use
about Socrates. An' right there is why you ought to have him,"
declared the speaker, brought back to her point, " because you
are a Christian, though you are a Romanist, an' you can make
a Christian out o' Nash. Why don't you set your cap for
him ? "

There was a certain irritation in the question which warned
Ellis not to tell her hostess of the platonic friendship upon
which she and Haughton prided themselves ; so she asked in-
stead, with a touch of natural coquetry :

" Do you think I could catch him, Cousin Maria?"

" I reckin you could," said the old lady as she critically
surveyed the young woman, who was leaning now in easy grace
against the dark glossiness of the old mahogany chest of draw-
ers. "You ain't to say a beauty, like" she checked herself
and left out the name " but you've got a fine figure ; take you
to your back, you're as handsome a woman as I want to see ;
an' take you to your face, you've got a pair of eyes that come
nearer sayin' what other folks have to say with their lips than
any I ever saw. An' then Ellis, honey," she added, while in a
burst of tenderness she put her arm around the figure she had
praised, " you've got your father's true heart. God never made
a truer one, Irishman an' Romanist though he was ; we all lost
our best friend when he was taken from us."

The eyes of both women filled at this mention of the friend

448 IRWINSCROFT. [July,

and father so beloved ; but as they went out to join the others

Ellis said, curiously :

" ' I'm not to say a beauty like ' who. Cousin Maria ? "

A question her cousin thought aggressively answered as

Vida Marschner, in the brightness of her rich coloring, came

forward to greet the questioner.

" She'll never beat her," thought the old maid sadly ; " there's

not a man living who would look twice at Ellis Brehan if he

had looked first at Vida Marschner."

And yet that afternoon when Irwin and Haughton, meeting
by chance at Irwinscroft gate, were directed by a small negro
to the vineyard where the ladies all were, the two men thought
both girls, as they stood together gathering grapes, well worth
pausing awhile to look at.

" What was the meaning of the weariness that showed
through your letters from the Springs ? " Haughton asked of
Ellis as they stood somewhat apart. " I am afraid you allowed
the seriousness of life to follow you even in your summer vaca-
tion."

She looked at him with a confident appeal for sympathy.

" Is it not always so with you and me ? " she said. " Are we
not always working for bread and receiving but stones ? always,
whether we will or not, being confronted by the misery and
wrongness around us, until the gayety and laughter of our
world seem like mockeries? For me I know that a Redeemer
liveth, and so I can work believing that all will be right in his
own time ; but for you, and for men like you, how can you find
courage to strive as you do ? "

A shade unto darkness fell on his face.

" Suppose I tell you that I have given it all up, that I shall
strive no more that I know, at last, that nothing is worth
while ? "

She had never seen or heard this look and tone of defeat
in him before, and being ignorant of his life for the past weeks,
she believed that his discouragement was but the reflection of
her own pessimistic speech ; whereupon, being a woman, she
rose in revolt against her weakness and his own.

" We must both be turning cowards," she declared ; " every-
thing is worth while. Shall we give up struggling because we
see no results ? Results are the slow ripening fruit which the
ages bear in return for the efforts of individuals. We need not
concern ourselves about them. What we have to make sure of

1895.] IRWINSCROFT. 449>

is that we labor with all our might on that plot of ground it is;
given us to till."

" I knew your transcendentalism would reassert itself," he
answered, smiling a little ; " and meantime we are gathering no
grapes is that a symbol ? "

" Is your sister-in-law in love with Dr. Haughton ? " Miss
Marschner asked of Irwin, who had been by her ever since his
arrival, and who now looked at the earnest face on the other
side of the arbor.

" No ! " he replied, laughing at the question ; " they are
probably discussing the strike at Pullman, or something as
absorbing. She is as cold as he is, or as he used to be. I
have heard that he has been coming here of late, and he may
have learned that he has a heart."

" Would that be a hard lesson for him ? " she asked, a con-
quering flash in her eye.

" Not with you as teacher," he replied with the audacious
directness which he liked to use with women having tested its
power.

It was just as a blush at the speech and the tone mounted
to her temples that Ellis in her turn chanced to glance toward
her. Haughton had seldom glanced any other way.

" I wish you would make a friend of Miss Marschner, Ellis,"
he said entreatingly ; " she is so lonely here. I have been doing
my best to cheer and divert her myself this summer."

" Pure altruism ? " asked his friend, while her gray eyes,
though they sparkled, had a shadow in their depths.

" It began in that," he answered.

She came a little nearer.

"And how has it ended ? " she asked, this time with no
sparkle shimmering over the depths.

He was glad that the coming of Mrs. Irwin and the old
ladies put a stop to the talk and that he had only time to
reply :

" It hasn't ended yet."

Whereupon, for the first time in her life, Miss Brehan realized
the possibility of even Nash Haughton's loving unwisely.

The gentleman himself might have taken exception at the

adverb, but any doubts he might have had as to his loving were

settled that afternoon as he watched Irwin and Vida under the

grape arbors. As he tried to listen to Ellis's talk, he was

VOL. LXI. 29

450 IR WIN SCR OFT. [July,

seeing only them as they stood the man's handsome head
bowed a little that he might better catch the varying gleams of
the girl's warm beauty, and it seemed to the onlooker as if
these two in the vine-checkered brightness of the sunshine were
a personification of all the joy and warmth of life. They were
troubled by no problems, weighed down by no strivings, and it
seemed to the young doctor as he watched them that he him-
self had let slip all his chances of happiness by his over-strenu-
ous seeking after right and truth.

He lingered after the Irwins left and presently invited him-
self to tea.

At last, after Miss Maria and Miss Marthy had reluctantly
left him alone with Vida, he asked with an unmistakable signifi-
cance in his tone :

" How often has Irwin been here since his return from the
Springs ? "

" Why should you ask ? " she queried, piqued at the note of
demand in his voice.

He nervously plucked the leaves from the rose-vine, but said
calmly :

" Because I should be sorry for him to come here often.
He is not the sort of man for a young lady to be thrown much
with unless she be closely related to him."

" I had not thought that you were the sort of man to speak
ill of a friend," she replied with a cool irony which made him
wince and which gave a defensive tone to his next speech.

" There are times when it is one's duty to speak the truth.
I should have spoken long ago if Irwin had not left but now
you ought to be told that Wilfred Irwin's reputation as a fast
man is known to every one in the county except his aunts
and his wife."

"Why ought I to be told this?" she asked calmly. "Of
what possible interest can his reputation be to me ? "

He did not suspect but that her indifference was real and
he was comforted by it ; yet the very innocence which her
words showed made it the more necessary to speak plainly.

" Little woman," he said very tenderly as he leaned toward
her, "you are beautiful and a stranger. This small Nashboro
neighborhood has not much to talk about, and so it is easily
scandalized. When it knows that Wilfred Irwin is frequently
here, it will begin to couple your name with his, and he is a
married man, you see."

" Has it done so already ? " she queried defiantly.

1 895.] IRWINSCROFT. 451

" No," he replied reassuringly, " perhaps I am the only one
who knows of his coming, but the same chance by which I dis-
covered it may happen in some other case."

She stood erect, squaring her fine shoulders, and looked an-
grily down on him :

"And you, no doubt, already believe the evil which you
warn me your hide-bound Puritan village will proclaim once it
discovers that Mr. Irwin has been visiting his aunts oftener than
usual. I that do not care a pin what any of you think must
shut my violin-case and tell Mr. Irwin we can play no more
for fear you and his other constituents will hear scandal in a
nocturne played by him and me ! "

She knew the injustice of her speech, but she did not repent
of it. She felt a cruel pleasure in seeing his face change into
a death-like pallor, as of a man who has been mortally wounded.
Irwin's music was so much to her, and now she must be de-
prived of it she hated the man who had so loyally warned
her.

Haughton himself had not known until the anguish her
words brought revealed it to him how overmastering had be-
come his love for her ; if he could at that moment have re-
called the fact that six weeks ago he called himself unselfish in
visiting her, he would have scorned himself for a conceited
fool.

" I believe ill of you ? " he said at last, when he had followed
her to the end of the veranda. " Take back your words, for
God's sake ! I think evil of you when there is not an hour of
my life that I do not wonder how I lived before I met you ?
Does a man like me love a woman he thinks ill of ? and you
know, you know that I love you with my whole soul. Take
back your words, Vida, and tell me you know that there is noth-
ing else on this earth for me but just you, just you."

There were the tears of a strong man in the entreaty of his
voice, and the feeling that mastered him shook and swayed him
even as some pine of his native forests is shaken in the tem-
pest.

Vida Marschner was awed by his vehemence. She had won-
dered how he would tell her his love, as she knew he must
some day, and had amused herself by fancying him declaring
himself with all the deliberation he would use in a surgical
operation ; but this was a new man before her, transformed as
it were, and she was herself so much the creature of emotions
that she was conquered by the intensity of his. She leaned her

452 IRWINSCROFT. [July*

pretty head against the pillar of the veranda and said, with a
little childish quiver of the lip :

" I did not mean it but I am so lonely and I do love
music."

" My poor little sweetheart ! " he exclaimed, taking up tenderly
the hand which hung white on her moon-silvered gown ; and such
was the woman's power over men that Haughton fell at once
into her change of mood, and was courting her in accents as
caressing and soft as if but a few minutes before he had not
been wounded and shaken to the very core of his heart.

The novel experience of how this quiet, self-contained man
yielded and was played upon by her every changing mood gave
life at Irwinscroft a new interest to Vida, and but for the long-
ing which would now and again possess her for a sight of Ir-
win who now did not come quite so often or for the sound
of his music she might have fancied herself content.

But the unrest would not down ; and one day, with the feel-
ing of it strong upon her, she went out alone into the October
sunshine.

She felt no surprise when she heard the noise of wheels,
and turning saw Irwin spring lightly from his buggy.

" I saw you go out of the gate and followed you," he ex-
claimed. " Let us drive down the old road together."

" Don't refuse," he pleaded as she hesitated a little. " I shall
be leaving soon and let us be ourselves just this once."

She knew by the quickened beating of her heart that she
had been yearning for him and it would be a thing to remem-
ber always, this drive with him alone through the bright still-
ness.

He pulled his horses down to a walk once they had turned
into the mill road, and he and she gave themselves up to the
pleasure of being here together, away from carpings or criti-
cisms.

The road narrowed after awhile between cliffs made by
cutting through a steep hill in old staging days. Farther on
the tall Mill Rock would frown gray and forbidding, seeming ta
block the highway, which, indeed, had scant room between it
and the rushing stream which once turned the now abandoned
mill.

Somehow, as the shadow of the cliffs fell upon them, Irwin
thought of Haughton.

" What are you going to do with Nash ? " he asked abruptly.

She turned and lifted her eyes to his eyes, luminous as he

1 895.] IRWINSCROFT. 453

saw with the thought of another than Haughton, and she said,
like one who refuses to wake from a dream :

" Let us forget him now."

" Let us forget everything, my darling," he whispered, respond-
ing to her glance, " but that you and I are here together."

A sudden crash of a falling limb and the mettlesome horses,
feeling no hand on the rein, were off in a mad run.

Irwin was instantly the cool driver again, and as he grasped
the lines he knew that their only safety lay in his gaining con-
trol of the horses before they reached the sharp turn around
the Mill Rock.

The swift thought had but time to pass through his mind
when there was a great shock and he knew no more. The Mill
Rock had been too near at hand, and for once in his life Wil-
fred Irwin had not been the master.

The horses, terrified anew by the crash, kicked themselves
free from the shattered vehicle and continued their frantic race
up the road until stopped by a man who sprang from his ox-
cart in time to head them.

" Somebody's hurt," he soliloquized as he soothed the quiv-
ering animals, " an' hurt bad I reckin. I better go back to
Lias Crowell's an' git Dr. Haughton. I see his team at th'r
gate."

Driving his cart into the woods bordering the road, he led
the horses back to the cabin and told hastily the little he knew ;
but before he had ended Haughton had told him to get in
the buggy beside him and go back with him.

The doctor remembered afterwards that from the moment
he recognized the team fears for Irwin, for Emily, and for El-
lis made him drive constantly faster, and how no thought of
Vida had come to him until he saw her as he reined in his
horses near the wreck.

There are scenes of which we take no conscious note and
yet whose minutest detail seem for ever stamped upon our
memory.

Through all his life there will arise before Nash Haughton
the grim rock frowning on the wreck at its base ; the eddying
of yellow hickory leaves on the foam-flecked bosom of the
noisy stream ; the shadow that fell where Wilfred Irwin lay,
the blood trickling from a wound in his temple ; Vida Marsch-
ner, her long hair streaming around her white face, kneeling by
the unconscious man and striving to staunch the blood which
flowed in crimson drops through her fingers.

454 IRWINSCROFT. [July,

And Nashboro enjoyed its sensation. The negroes at Irwins-
croft had spread abroad rumors of the congressman's frequent
comings and late goings, and this tragic ending of the ride, which
Nashboro said was but one of many less unfortunate rides, was
accepted with a certain awed approval of Divine justice in thus
punishing evil.

But when Wilfred Irwin was nursed out of danger, and Vida
Marschner had recovered partially from the nervous shock, and
Emily Irwin, who had not left her husband's bedside while he
needed nursing, fell seriously ill from the strain upon her weak
frame when finally, like a woman for whom life holds no hope,
she had died, broken-hearted from her husband's estrangement
the people declared, a hush fell over the talk and scandal.

Emily and Ellis had been the children of the clan ever since
their mother was taken from them, and especially after their
father's death just as Emily was grown ; and now these stern
moralists, touched in their sympathies too, felt that since Divine
justice had somehow miscarried, human justice should be meted
out to the man and the woman who had caused so much sor-
row.

Wilfred Irwin, coming into the village for his mail, was made
keenly conscious of this feeling ; and the constraint in his old
comrade's greetings, mingling with the chill of the dark Novem-
ber day, seemed to freeze his heart within him.

The door of Dr. Haughton's office stood open, and following
an impulse, Irwin went in uninvited. He was startled to see
how the physician too had aged and paled since he had last
noticed him.

" Great God, Nash ! " he exclaimed, " is a man to be accursed
of God and man just because he has made a Httle love to a
pretty woman ? I'll swear to you," he continued, moved to be
honest for the sake of his friend, whose suffering he now real-
ized ; " I'll swear to you, upon my honor, that there was noth-
ing wrong between Vida Marschner and me. I never even
kissed her not once until that ride

Haughton shrank remembering how he had longed for the
kisses which this man held so lightly, and his face was stern
when he said uncompromisingly :

" But you made her love you, and now she must suffer
that as well as the scandal which is openly talked about her."

" Why doesn't she go away, then ? " asked Irwin impatiently ;
" she was always fretting about having to stay here."

" Ellis has persuaded her father to send her to Paris to study

1 89 5 .] IR WIN SCR OFT. 455

music," Haughton replied. " When she returns if, indeed, she
will consent to go," he added with significant bitterness " it will
be quite proper for you to make her your wife."

Irwin sprang to his feet and started toward the door ; then
returning he faced Haughton indignantly : " Let her take Emily's
place ! " he exclaimed and then, in the sudden softening which
came to him at the mention of one so gracious and innocent,
he said tremulously : " When a man has seen the light of Hea-
ven shine out of his pure wife's eyes, Haughton, he cannot put
in her place a woman who is all of this earth. That light
shone for me," he added, " and I refused to see it until too
late."

He bowed his head on the mantel and a deep silence filled
the room. Presently he went to the desk and wrote a note
which he handed the doctor.

" Read that," he said as he was leaving the office, " and if
it will do any good mail it."

It was but a line with no signature.

" They tell me you go soon to Paris ; if I could be glad at
anything now, I should be glad to hear this. If both of us
have been swept off our feet by a wave of feeling this summer
it was but a wave let it pass into oblivion."

And Haughton, knowing the girl, mailed the letter. He
guessed rightly that after she received it her stay at Irwins-
croft would be short.

He had seen her but once and briefly since the fatal after-
noon. He was not the sort of man to sue for the patched-up
remnants of any woman's love and even such affection as this
Vida Marschner knew she could not give. But with her odd
inconsistency she had begged him to be at the station to bid
her good-by, and the Nashboro folk were shocked into amaze-
ment to see Ellis Brehan and Nash Haughton by Vida Marsch-
ner to the last. Forgiveness of injuries was a gospel which,
according to Nashboro interpretation, must be taken with a
scrupulous and large reservation due to self-respect.

" Love Ellis," Vida had said at parting with Haughton ; " she
is the right one, and she will love you if you ask her."

He wondered why the words kept always recurring to him,
why ever and again he would find himself dwelling on the
fact that the neighborhood had persistently married them to
each other, and he began to have a sense that it was after all
in the fitness of things.

456 IRWINSCROFT. [July,

Ellis herself unconsciously settled the question for him when
one evening he and she sat alone by the fire at Irwinscroft.

"The old days are fled for ever," she said, breaking a long
silence.

"Vida has come and gone, Wilfred will soon leave for
Washington, and I am going away too, so that only you and
our poor old cousins will be left."

He had intended to tell her to-night that he would leave
Nashboro, having found it unbearable ; but the idea of her go-
ing was not pleasant to him.

" How long will you stay ? " he asked anxiously.

" For ever," she said quite simply, like a person who has
long made a decision. "As long as Emily lived she needed
me and I stayed, but now my work calls me. I am going to
be a Sister of Charity."

Haughton had believed that he had exhausted the gamut of
pain, but now he knew that he had been comforted always by
Ellis's nearness and sympathy, and in the thought of his life with-
out her he saw how he had leant upon her from the time they
were children together.

Vida's words and the neighborhood predestinations recurred
to him.

" Ellis," he said, as he drew his chair close to hers so that he
might watch her face, "you and I have been the best of
friends."

" You and I are the best of friends," she corrected ; " there
can be no ' has been ' in our friendship."

He laid his hand on hers for answer.

" And you will tell me the truth now, without any woman-
ish reservations ? "

" The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,"
she replied, looking frankly at him.

" Well then, dear Ellis/' he asked with a hesitancy at which
he himself wondered, " is it because of any love that you may
imagine unreturned that you take this step ? "

He had not known her for all their lives not to see that
she fully understood him and was furiously angry, but the swift
passion as swiftly fled, and he knew that she was going to
keep her promise and tell him the truth.

" What a Protestant you are ! " she exclaimed reproachfully,
"in spite of all my preaching! If I did not, as I now do, de-
clare to you that I never loved any man, not even you " (there
was an approach to merriment in her voice which he somehow

1 89 5 .] IR WINSCROF T. 457

did not share), " ' sweetheart fashion,' as we children used to
say, you would go through your life believing that Ellis
Brehan's was another heart sacrificed upon the altar of unre-
quited affection."

He had now very distinctly the conviction that she was
laughing at him, and he was too uncomfortable to find anything
to say to her. But she did not wait for him to speak.

" You know how the sorrow and pain in the world have
weighed upon me," she said, " but you do not know that I
should long ago have fainted under it but for the thought that
He whom I call my God, and you call the holiest of men,
would have found some other way if the sorrow and pain had
not been the best. Even then I think I could not have borne
it if He had not so loved us that He came upon the earth to
bear with us the suffering He knew we should not be spared.

"I am not giving up the world when I go to be a Sister of
Charity (isn't it a beautiful name ?) I am taking the whole
world to my heart, and I am meeting Jesus, my love, wherever
a human soul in palace or hovel needs sympathy or a human
frame needs help."

Her face was illumined with the spirit of her words, and as
he looked upon her, glorified and transformed by a faith of
which until now he had never conceived the possibility, he be-
gan dimly to understand that she was beckoning him on to
heights which up to this moment his own pride had hidden
from him.

"I understand now," he said humbly, "how a man can
entertain an angel unawares."

A shadow obscured the brightness which had awed him, and
she was purely human again.

" Don't exalt me into anything like that," she remonstrated.
" My dear old comrade," she continued, putting her hand on
his arm, the caress she always gave him when she was deeply
moved, " you surely are not going to let anything, absence
nor separation nor death itself, break our friendship, which is so
precious to me ? Don't let me lose my brother, Nash.' '

He took the hand which trembled on his sleeve and held it
in both his own, knowing in his heart's reverent thankfulness
that the blessing of such a woman's love as this was infinitely
rarer than that other love of which we make so much.

And so Nashboro had another sensation, which had no
element of enjoyment in it. That Ellis Brehan should become

458 IRWINSCROFT. [July.

a Sister of Charity was bad enough, but that Nash Haughton
should leave the county, and become besides the most devout
of Romanists, was wholly inexplicable except upon the plea
of mental aberration.

Miss Maria Irwin led the indignation meetings, but when,
after a year of persuasion, she and Miss Marthy consented to
visit Ellis at the hospital, she essayed to console herself and
the neighborhood upon her return.

" I know you all can hardly believe it," she said, " but Ellis
Brehan is as happy as a bird. She looks downright beautiful
in that flapjack of a white bonnet, an' she answers to Sister
Vincent as quick as if it was her name. And Nash he is a
doctor for the hospital, an' he an' Ellis are as good friends as
ever, though they 'most quarrelled about which should do most
for Sister Marthy an' me."

" Don't he say anything about gettin' married ? " asked one
of her auditors, who shared the neighborhood convictions as to
the misery of single blessedness. " Maybe he and Vida
Marschner will make it up when she gets back from Paris."

"Nash ain't got marryin' in the back side o' his head," de-
clared Miss Maria with emphasis, " an' tibbe sure he wouldn'
turn fool twice tibbe sure he knows by this time that a man
ought not to reach downwards for a wife. But then," she added
with the wisdom of an oracle who knows the uncertainties of
life, " there's no tellin' what fools the smartest men can be ; so I
ain't a prophesyin'."

SIR HUGH AFTER THE BOYNE, 1690.

lAREWELL! I seek a foreign land;
The cause is lost, the king has fled.
I dare not touch my lady's hand ;

Her lightning eyes would strike me dead.
And yet the scarf she gave I wore

Where William's squadrons reeled ;
It gleamed my cavaliers before
Through all that fatal field.

Ten times we swept them down to the river,
But fresh horse poured on endless and ever ;
What could we do, outnumbered so,
But fall back, striking blow for blow ?

My heart that battle-eve beat high

From all the sights and sounds it gave :
The stars like camp-fires lit the sky,

The camp-fires trembled in the wave ;
The champing steed, the soldier's song,

With passion filled my breast ;
And all the memories of wrong

That on our fathers pressed.

Ten times we swept them down to the river,
The scroll on our banner " Now or Never";*
Ten times like thunderbolts we sped
Through ranks of dying and of dead.

*The legend on the flag over Dublin Castle, 1689-90, was " Now or Never ; Now and For
Ever."

460 S/^ HUGH AFTER THE BOYNE, 1690. [July,

White scarf, thou'rt powder-stained since morn,

Yet gleam on foreign fields from now !
Brave roan, red as the ripening corn,

Bear me far from my lady's brow !
O'er sunny France, o'er Europe wide

Be mine the exile's pain ;
From foreign camp to camp to ride,

Nor see my land again.

Ten times we swept them down to the river,
Where the drooping willows bend and quiver ;
Would I might lie beside Boyne's wave,
His willows weeping o'er my grave !

My lady, one more last good night !

My steed is stamping at the hours :
The late moon flecks the dark with light

The wooded hills around thy towers.
Farewell the mill-wheel in the race,

The ivy on the eaves,
The still kine musing in the chase,

The dun deer 'mid the leaves.

Ten times we swept them down to the river ;
Hope's gone, my lady ; all hope for ever.
Of life with thee I leave the wine,
And steed and sword henceforth be mine !

NOTE. Despite his prejudices, Macaulay acknowledges in some degree the conspicuous
gallantry of the Irish horse at the Boyne. The army on William's side was that of the
Protestant League of Europe against Louis XIV. It consisted of Dutch William's own
subjects Germans from the various states, Danes including the Danish Guards, the English
army which had deserted the king, a couple of regiments of Ulster Protestants, and three
thousand French Huguenots under Calliemotte. The cavalry alone on that side was reckoned
at twelve thousand, mostly Danes, Dutch, and Germans. But among them was the
Ulster Protestant regiment, afterwards so favorably known as " the Enniskillen Dragoons."

On this occasion the Enniskilleners did not behave very well. Macaulay speaks of them as
" the unsteady Ulstermen " because they showed a disposition to fly after the first encounter
whenever they saw the Irish horse approaching.

Ten times during that long summer's day the Irish horse charged the enemy's cavalry,
breaking through them at every charge and then quietly riding back to their position. One
1- think the second-last charge was one of those extraordinary achievements that sets the
heart on fire. William had determined to crush them under the weight of his twelve thousand
cavalry, supported by a mass of infantry which had formed near the Irish centre. Another
body of infantry, ten thousand strong, under Count Schomberg, the duke's son, was lapping
round the Irish right. The Irish infantry was of no account. It consisted for the most part
of peasants hastily levied by their old landlords and chiefs, and armed with pitch-forks, scythes,
knives, and a few guns more dangerous to the bearers than to the enemy. Consequently the

1 895.] SSX HUGH AFTER THE BOYNE, l6pO. 461

whole of the fighting on the Irish side had been done by the four thousand horse, who were
made up from the Catholic nobility and gentry, their relatives and large tenants. In fact, they
corresponded with the English cavaliers of the preceding generation.

As this great weight of cavalry was moving up the road and the adjoining field the
king took it as the proper time to fly. He drew off with him for escort the Irish guards under
their colonel, Sarsfield, Earl of Lucan, the best officer in his service. The dastardly conduct
of the king was known ; but there were greater interests involved than the base royalty of
James. The fight should be fought out. The Irish horse moved at a gentle trot. " The
unsteady Ulstermen " began to waver and look behind them, causing some confusion among
the veterans who had won renown on the battle-fields of Europe. William placed himself at
the head of the Ulstermen, who took heart, and the great mass went on, shaking the earth.
Richard Hamilton shouted "gallop " at the head of the Irish horse, and they rode at racing
speed boot to boot. The shock was terrific ; the front ranks on both sides went down, but the
narrow front of the Irish horse went through like a wedge. They then galloped over the
mass of infantry spoken of as having formed near the Irish centre ; they next rode through the
Huguenots, who were crossing the river, and killed their leader, Calliemotte ; they next scat-
tered some infantry regiments on the farther bank, and then rode back through the re-formed
cavalry and infantry, killing old Duke Schomberg on their way, who seemed anxious to avenge
the death of his brother-in-arms, Calliemotte.

It was in the next charge that Richard Hamilton was taken prisoner. On being brought
before William, the prince asked : " Did these gentlemen intend to continue fighting much
longer ? " " On my honor, sir, I don't know," replied Hamilton. " Your honor ! " retorted the
Dutchman ; and Macaulay seems to think the contempt of William was justified. But why ?
Was not Hamilton bound when he discovered that all the grave charges against his unhappy
master were Whig lies to return to his allegiance ? However, my purpose in introducing this
incident from Macaulay is to show that the Irish gentlemen who took up arms for their
religion, country, and king required a great deal of beating. As a matter of fact Story, one of
William's chaplains who has given a history of the war, says that at the end the Irish cavalry
retreated slowly, " often pausing and facing our men, who halted whenever the enemy did."
The well-known tradition that an Irish officer after the battle said, " Change kings and we'll
fight the battle over again ! " was at one time as well known in England as in Ireland. I
think Swift was in the habit of quoting it as an instance of the wild humor of the Celtic
Irishman ; just as a little later Dr. Johnson was fond of telling anecdotes illustrative of his
pride in the midst of the most depressing circumstances.

462 THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. [July,

THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER.

BY P. J. MAcCORRY.
&

HEN a noted infidel writer once remarked that he
" was forced to believe in the immortality of the
soul whenever he thought of his mother," he
touched the depths of a great and subtle truth
not often dwelt upon in our philosophy.
We can scarcely doubt that the writer referred to was
blessed in the possession of a saintly Christian mother than
which there are few gifts more precious in this troubled
world and when he found that the simple charm of her person
so utterly frustrated the marshalled forces of his giant intellect
he merely caught in her, however dimly, a glimpse of that eter-
nal Prototype to whose image she was made. Just, indeed, as
the very rushing of the mountain torrent when the snow is
melting will tell us of the dizzy heights from which it has
descended, or the sparkling clearness of its limpid waters will
speak to us of the purity of its source, so there are natures
bearing with them the grace of such sanctity and truth that
they seem to breathe the very fragrance of immortality, fresh-
fashioned from the hand of God.

The truth is, we are often entertaining angels unawares.
There are embodiments of the good and true and beautiful
always with us, living incarnations of every virtue, blending
with the very warp and woof of our social fabric, to tell us
that this life is not the know-all and the end-all of our exist-
ence, that humanity is not a lie, nor is the flesh degrading to
the meek and clean of heart.

Nor is this testimony confined to the higher order of created
nature ; we find it manifested in even the least of God's handi-
work. Who does not remember what the plying of the spider's
shuttle meant to the poor doubting captive of Versailles ? or
yet more striking, M. Santine's most curious and beautiful
tale of Picciola ? Its hero is a man of unusual mind and eru-
dition, who " with the Germans had studied metaphysics ; with
the Italians and English, politics and legislation ; with all, his-
tory, which he could examine in its earliest sources, thanks to
his knowledge of Hebrew, Greek, and Roman tongues." Ac-

1895.] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 463

cordingly, we are told, he entirely devoted his life to these
grave speculations ; but soon, dismayed at the horizon which
was enlarging before him, finding himself stumble at every
step, fatigued with always pursuing a doubtful truth, he began
to regard history as a vast traditional lie, and endeavored to
reconstruct it on a new and improved basis. He forthwith
formed another romance, at which the learned laughed in their
academic sleeves from envy he believed while the world
giggled quite immoderately from ignorance. He therefore
abandoned history and betook himself to political and legisla-
tive sciences. Here too he was confronted with many difficul-
ties. They seemed to require so many reforms in Europe. He
endeavored to fix on something definite to begin with, but he
found abuses so rooted in the social edifice, so many existing
things based on false principles, that he was quite discouraged.
He considered, too, how many good men, possessed perhaps of
equal learning and good intentions, entertained theories directly
opposed to his. This perplexed him exceedingly. Should he
throw all quarters of the earth into woeful confusion by a
doubt ? He was too philanthropic for that, and so in the
extremity of his need he fled to the embrace of his one remain-
ing refuge the science of metaphysics. " This is the realm of
ideas," he mused. " If disorders must come, there at least they
seem less fearful, for ideas clash without noise in imaginary
spaces." There indeed he no longer risked the repose of
others ; but alas ! he lost his own.

It was in this study beyond all others that obscurity and
confusion came, and the further he advanced the more palpable
they appeared to grow. Truth seemed ever evasive ; fleeing at
his approach, vanishing beneath his steps, melting through his
very fingers when he was sure he had grasped her ; or else she
seemed to dance mockingly before him, like a wandering fire
that attracts only to mislead. Fifty partial truths shone at
once around the horizon of his understanding deceiving bea-
cons agleam on a rockbound coast.

He tossed for a time between Bossuet and Spinoza, and
again between deism and atheism. Now he was a spiritualist,
now a sensualist. Animalism claimed his attention, as did also
ontologism, eclecticism, and materialism, till at length he was
seized with an immense doubt, which resolved itself into a uni-
versal negation. " Chance is blind," he concluded, " and it alone
is the father of creation."

His life wore on, and we remember how the years brought

464 THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. [July,

much adversity to our philosopher. How he became involved
in political conspiracy, was tried and imprisoned. Correspon-
dence with the outer world was forbidden him. He was allowed
neither books, nor pen, nor paper, and so, deprived of every-
thing and sequestered from the world, he felt it necessary to
reconcile himself to himself to live with his friend, the
enemy his thoughts. How dreadful, how overwhelming was
the idea ; how cold and bitter for him on whom nature had at
first poured her gifts ; for him, now a captive and miserable
him who had so much need of protection and help, but who
believed there was no God and put no faith in the bond of
universal brotherhood ! And here, as the years sped, in the
desolation of his narrow chamber, his mental pride broke under
him and in a gracious moment, contemplating through his
prison-bars a tiny gillyflower which crushed its growth through
the flagging of the yard without, his doubts and speculations
fell from him like a mantle and he stood, as a little child, face
to face with his Creator, his Lord and his God.

And that is a timely thought with us. Men to-day, as in
that other age, are very confident in their own intellectual con-
ceits as long as their pathways are well carpeted with temporal
pros'perity. Refined theorizing on the possible existence of a
Supreme Being is quite compatible with a well-filled storehouse
and a life of ease and earthly felicity. But when adversity
knocks at the palace gate of the unbeliever and drags him to
his knees, or when death steals in and looks him squarely in
the eyes, he is not quite so positive that " Chance is the father
of creation," and will at least consent to talk the matter over.

For these constitute the great common level of mortality.
Adversity is surely the " touchstone of the heart," and Death
its twin brother, the great adjuster of all the inequalities of
life.

" We speak of human existence as a journey," says the moral-
ist, " but how variously is that journey performed ! There are
some who come forth girt and shod and mantled, to walk on
velvet lawns and smooth terraces, where every gale is arrested
and every beam is tempered. There are others who walk on
the Alpine path of life against driving misery, and through
stormy sorrows, over sharp afflictions ; walk with bare feet and
naked breast, jaded, mangled, and chilled." But yet there is a
common meeting-place where all the paths of men converge.
The passage-way through the gate on the borderland of life is

1 895.] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 465

very, very narrow, knowing no distinction between man and man ;
it equalizes, harmonizes, tranquillizes everything.

There was a very famous infidel living in the third quarter
of the present century. He was the iconoclast of the graveyard,
chiselling the story of the resurrection from the tombstones of
our dead. His wife, on the contrary, led a holy Christian life.
The mother instructed the daughter in the consolations of the
love of Christ, while the gloomy impressions of her father's in-
fluence were not quite lost on her pliant mind.

But the daughter sickened, and when death was inevitably
approaching she called her father. " Father," she inquired, " shall
I take your instruction or mother's ? I am about to die now,
and must have the question settled." And the man whose bla-
tant blasphemy had striven to plant the steel of infidelity in
the youthful hearts of our country stooped very low and whis-
pered to his dying child : " My dear, you had better take your
mother's religion it is best."

And to some what a dreadful weight of responsibility that
suggests. Every parent is writing the history of his children,
tossing their supple characters hither and yon, like a bit of
down eddied in the breeze. A smile of approbation, and the
good cheer of your life will live again in the laughter of your
children ; a harsh word uttered in an unguarded moment, and
you gather fuel that may burst into vicious flame long after the
grasses have tangled on your grave. If the home is the politi-
cal safeguard and the corner-stone of the republic, it is no less
the seed of character to the mind of youth. " Abraham," says
the Scriptures, " begat Isaac "; but it must also be remembered
that Herod begat Archelaus.

In all this one cannot but observe the very trifling part the
process of abstraction truly plays in our existence, and how in-
variably the concrete forms epitomize the great realities of our
lives.

It needed not the inanimate figure of his beautiful and be-
loved queen to argue to the mind of Francis Borgia, the noble-
man of Spain, that it was " appointed unto men once to die."
He was sufficiently acquainted with the uncertainty of life for
that, and he well knew the chill of the narrow grave towards
which it inevitably tended. But, oh ! how terribly the truth
came home to him and burned through his brain when he drew
the shroud aside from the casket of his dead queen and gazed
upon that face whose fascinating beauty had ravished Europe,
but whose every line was now grown hideous in the ugliness
VOL. LXI. 30

466 THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. [July,

of dissolution. It cast him prostrate on his palace floor, and
through all the 'sleepless night tke vision haunted him and would
not out.

" Where is the lustre of those matchless eyes ? " he repeated.
" Where the charm and grace we so lately revered ? Is this
piece of noisome clay her sacred majesty my empress, my lady,
my queen ? Fool ! I have pursued and grasped at shadows.
This death which was thus rude to the imperial diadem has
already levelled its dart at me. I will cheat its stroke by dying
to the world, that at my death I may live to my King." And
flinging down the trappings of his state, he trod henceforth the
narrow gauge that leads onwards and upwards to the intermin-
able heights of God.

On precisely the same principle one might preach abstract
patriotism to a boy through all his youth, and yet there will be
more noble sentiments enkindled in his breast by the mere
glimpse of a smoke-stained, tattered battle-flag than could be
even suggested by the sum of all our exhortation. And in this
there is emphasized the absolute helplessness of human speech
in the presence of thoughts of a certain type. There are some
conceptions so sublime and vast that language may never reach
them, others there are " too pure for the touch of a word."

We know there are many who will hasten to differ with us
here. "If you have a real idea," says the school, "you can
always find fit words to convey it." St. Paul and St. John were
certainly of other minds, as assuredly are many others of much
less exalted genius. For, as Father Ryan would have it :

"... far on the deep there are billows
That never shall break on the beach ;
And I have heard songs in the silence
That never shall float into speech ;
And I have had dreams in the Valley
Too lofty for language to reach."

And even prescinding entirely from the supernatural, are we
not confronted daily with tangible realities which we feel we
comprehend, and yet which should we try to express, however
inadequately, we are immediately reduced to silence ? Their
character bears witness, but their story must ever be unspeak-
able. Who, in point, will reproduce even a fragment of our
War in the habiliments of language ? Our writers sing us its
battle-poetry, it is true ; but a history of those days never can,

1895.] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 467

perhaps never should, be written. Our historians look upon the
action from the distant hill-tops, at sufficient distance from the
scene to give the picture the appearance of canvas and paint,
and then they tell us of the magnificent effects of its lines and
colors. " Those far-extended ranks of army corps winding on
through the great stretch of country ; that unbounded proces-
sion of infantry regiments, batteries of artillery, divisions of
cavalry, then the ammunition train, the pack-horses and wagons
bringing up the rear. The armies meet, the swords flash in the
sun, flags are waving, horses prancing and rearing up like foam-
ing waves. Clouds of smoke arise and form themselves into
thick veils. Then they lift and show groups of fighting figures
here and there." But what historian could ever reproduce the
wild determined strain of armies, steeped from rear to van in
desperate mortal purport ? Who will ever frame in words, who
can even vaguely suggest, the awful reality of a single conflict
of the many sustained by the ghastly moonbeams far in through
the night ? What of those seething passions hissing like devils
in the breasts of men ? Who will reach by language those livid
countenances, the vital sword-thrusts, the stabs in the dark,
the hand-to-hand struggles, the murderous steel and bullet in
the heart, the half-shout, half-groan of the wounded, the con-
vulsive fingers tearing through the stones and earth, the softer
moaning of the unconscious, the endless life-times crowded ter-
ribly into a few brief moments, the serpentine winding of the
last lethargy about the prostrate form, the fearful pace of it all,
and then the chilling of the limbs, and the human frames grow-
ing rigid in the freezing grip of death ! There is a volume in
every flame-flash, a book in the glint of every sword, a life-
tragedy concentrated in the crack of every rifle, but they never
shall be, never can be written.

And that leads us up with some appropriateness to take a
passing glance at another type of human personality : that which
in the beginning of the present century cast over Europe the
fiery Shadow of the Sword !

" Not Peace ; a Sword.

And men adored

Not Christ, nor Antichrist, but Cain ;
And where the bright blood ran like rain
He stood ; and looking, men went wild ;
For lo ! on whomsoe'er he smiled
Came an idolatry accurst ;

468 THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. [July,

But chief, Cain's hunger and Cain's thirst

For gold and blood and tears ; and when

He beckoned, countless swarms of men

Flew thick as locusts to destroy

Hope's happy harvests, and to die ;

Yea, verily, at each finger-wave

They swarmed and shared the grave they gave

Beneath his throne."

For Napoleon possessed to a consummate degree that de-
moniac and magnetic power which Goethe avowed to be, whether
for good or evil, the especial characteristic of all earth-mighty

A BLIND, IRRESISTIBLE FORCE.

men. His mysterious strength of fascination, in whatever it
may have consisted, we know to have been marvellously irre-
sistible.

It is sometimes argued that Bonaparte was what strange
speakers and writers at all times have called a Great Man ;
and such being the case he must have been supremely human,
as indeed some few of his words and actions would seem to

1895.] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 469

imply. The explanation, however, is very simple. Some men
are called great because of the total negation in their being of
that which is really Human. Nero was great because he was
a fiend. Voltaire was great because his head could never bow
in reverence. Henry VIII. was great because he was incapable
of shame. Napoleon was great because of his perfect incapacity
to realize the consequences of his own actions. He was a blind,
irresponsible Force without heart or understanding, moved by
a monstrous ambition to fatal ends. And yet madmen in their
frenzy fell praying in his presence as to very God. His picture
adorned the walls of every household in France. He was repre-
sented for the most part as a mounted Form in soldier's cos-
tume, poised on an eminence and pointing down with still fore-
finger at a red light below him which seemed to rise from a
burning town ; his face hard and white as marble ; and at his
feet there crouched, like dogs waiting to be unleashed, their
heads close against the ground, several grenadiers, each with
his bayonet set. And to this lurid representation of the exe-
crable men paid their homage.

He sweeps across the earth from Moscow to Paris, dragging
in his wake the spent remnant of a mighty host, leaving five
hundred thousand of the Grand Army buried in the Russian
snow, and in every home there is an empty place, and in every
house a breaking heart. " Red blood in the battle-field .and
black crape on all the lands around." But how was he received ?
With curses and groans and passionate appeals ? On the con-
trary, with hosannas and loud acclamations. The cities of the
Empire Rome, Florence, Milan, Hamburg, Mayence, Amster-
dam donned their gayest robes, and at his coming flocked to
offer their felicitations. In France alone two hundred thousand
of her sturdy children were already mingled with her soil. The
harvests grew and ripened and rotted in the fields for none
were left to reap them save little children and tottering men ;
and yet the wailing of widows and of orphans was silenced by
the stronger cheers "Vive 1'Empereur!"

" What is life in comparison to the immense interests which
rest on the sacred head of the heir of the empire?" cried the
prefect of Paris. " Reason," exclaimed M. de Fontanges,
" pauses before the mystery of power and obedience, and aban-
dons all inquiry to that religion which made the person of kings
sacred after the image of God himself ! "

And so Napoleon became men's ruling passion ; Avatar and
lord of Europe, master and dictator of the earth. Meanwhile

470 THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. [July,

the human wine-press bled, and from a million ruined homes
cries went out to him who had usurped the Divine seat and
whispered his awful fiat across a desolated world.

If he heard, he smiled. Understanding, he smiled also.

Napoleon said he fought for peace. He lied ! His trade
was war. He was the Frankenstein of the red monster which
he himself had created, and whose thirst for human lives was
never satiated.

France was as another Rachel weeping for her children, and
she had prayed him on her naked knees in the streets of Paris
for peace at any cost ; but he passed on like a thing of stone,
unhearing and unheeding, for his eyes were fixed far out upon
the plains and his ears were deaf to everything save the long
roll rallying for the fight.

We turn here with a sense of grateful relief, and by way of
contrast, to another character in another age, around which
there clusters a beautiful and most striking instance of the im-
press given by an individual to his time, and the status of
civilization in which he lived.

For the three hundred years following the advent of Chris-
tianity the stones of Rome were drenched by the blood of
gladiator and martyr.

" If I had a hundred tongues and a hundred mouths, and
my voice were of iron," exclaims Lactantius, " I could not
relate the horrors of these times !" Men fought and died by
thousands to glut the ire of perverted passions. " Butchered,"
says Byron, " to make a Roman holiday." Fierce duels and
combats by groups, the carnage of maddened beasts pitted
against human beings, the melees of terrible slaughter, swept
like whirlwinds beneath the fascinated gaze of a frenzied
people. For days and even weeks at a time the arena and
Coliseum reeked with its sickening vapors. "So intense was the
excitement," we are told, " that during these fights the people
seemed to lose all self-control. From morning till evening,
careless of cold or heat, they gazed with mad excitement on
the tragedies before them, and their minds were agitated with
the fluctuating passions of hope and fear, like the ocean tossed
by contrary winds. Nor was the demon of discord idle while
the furies flapped their funereal wings over these bloody scenes.
The spectators were divided into several parties. Sharp and
bitter discussions concerning the rival merits of the combatants
formed an inexhaustible source of broils and disputes ; and

i895-] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 471

sometimes they became so excited as to pass from criticism to
argument and blows, and even to deadly weapons, until the
benches of the amphitheatre from end to end became the scene
of sanguinary tumult and massacre."

Far removed in the depths of the Libyan deserts, the story
of this shame came to Telemachus, the man of God. He was
one of those grand solitaries with whom we come in contact
from time to time in the history of the East, whose very
silence and recollection have moved the world. His flesh was
wasted in unbroken nights of prayer and watch ; his face was
blanched with the flood of tears that had swept across it in his
holy life of penitence and love. But there burned within his
breast the zeal of an apostle, and a strength of faith childlike
indeed but yet the greatness of which should conquer Rome.

Hearing of the deeds of the godless city, Telemachus was
seized with an immense resolve the Coliseum must fall and the
God of the Christians be vindicated ! We have reason to believe
that the holy man must have been fully conscious of the
magnitude .of his undertaking. He was poor; mayhap he was
ignorant*. Perchance, too, he was awkward and slow of speech ;
and who was there in all that pampered city who would give
heed to his pleadings ? a man coarse-habited and with naked
feet. Popes and kings and unnumbered martyrs had lived and
died that the great blur on humanity's name might be obliter-
ated, and they failing utterly, could he succeed ? But he prayed,
and watched, and listened long to " the still small voice " that
whispered to his soul, and then starting up, he set his face
towards Rome, conscious in his heart that he could do " all
things in Him that strengtheneth."

We can well imagine with what keen forebodings he passed
away from the consolations and holy associations of his desert
home, and moved across the great seas of burning sand. He
evades for the most part the towns and cities by the way,
keeping well to the open plains, and there his nights are spent
in prayer and rest, prostrate upon the earth, with a rugged
stone for a pillow and the great canopy of heaven for his roof.
He journeyed thus for weeks, perhaps for months who can
say? until at length there rose before him, glittering in the
morning sunlight, the palaces and gilded domes of eternal
Rome. And as he drew still nearer we may fancy how his
eyes were dazzled with the pomp and splendor of that un-
rivalled city : her great marble vistas stretching endlessly be-
fore him statues, fountains, colonnades and porticoes. The

472 THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. [July.

sheen of her temples, topped with hammered silver, glancing
back in myriad shafts the morning light. The great theatres
and public buildings and basilicas scattered everywhere, and
surmounting all, the majestic Capitol with its fifty temples, their
smoke still curling to heaven from their sacrifices of abomina-
tion ; and there, yonder in the valley, lifting its proudly massive
form against the hill, rears the Coliseum itself, typifying in its
every stone and column all that is cruel and pitiless and death-
ful in the human heart. Seeing these things, well .might he
have exclaimed, with the Master : " Ye are like to whitened
sepulchres, which 'outwardly appear to men beautiful, but with-
in are full of dead men's bones."

It was on the morning of the 1st of January, 404 A.D.,
that Telemachus entered Rome ; consequently the games fixed
for the Kalends of January were then being enacted. Vast
throngs were moving from all directions towards the Coliseum.
The hermit became immerged in the motley multitude and was
carried forward with the stream. Now and then a ribald jest
was levelled at his strange appearance, so discordant with the
general atmosphere of mirth and festivity. But unheeding all,
he climbs the hill of the Capitol and descends the Way of
Triumph beneath the arches of the conquerors, till at length he
enters the amphitheatre whose horrors had been the demons of
his sleep and whose blood-drips had sent the Tiber crimson t?o
the sea.

The great concourse pour unceasingly into the benches and
take their position ; while back in an obscure corner kneels the
figure of the hermit, unconscious of the distracting tumult
about him, wrapt in silent prayer. And now the games begin.

A great roar which hails the entrance of the first comba-
tants wakes him from his lethargy. A sudden flame leaps
through all his veins ; his mind casts off its sluggishness and he
leans forward with intense interest, his hands clinched on the
bench before him. A troupe of fierce and almost naked gladia-
tors have entered the arena, and are saluting the assembly with
desperate effort to be brave. Then they fall together in the
centre and the game of life and death is begun, their steel
blades cleaving the air with murderous gleam.

But suddenly there is a commotion up among the benches.
The monk has leaped to the iron rail enclosing the arena.
Quick as thought he has bounded over it and stands in the
centre of the fighting knot, as a tamer in a den of lions. Not
a word has been uttered. The combatants cower before him

THE COMBATANTS COWER BEFORE HIM.

474 THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. , [July,

and slink away. There is another instant of intense silence, and
then the screams and shouts of the maddened multitude shake
the mighty edifice to its foundations. They ( were as wild beasts
thwarted of their prey, and roared in the fury of their impo-
tent rage. The gladiators, fearing the violence of the mob,
had now retreated from the scene, and Telemachus faced alone
the furious horde. Their hoots and jeers thundered through
the amphitheatre, but the man of God in that supreme moment
seemed but to smile as he raised aloft the cross of Christ in
silent proclamation that on this day and in him, his servant, the
God of the Christians was triumphant. Instantly the air was
filled with flying missiles. A piece of jagged marble crushed in
upon the martyr's breast, but the life-blood of Telemachus
bursting from his mighty heart clogged for ever the terrible
machinery of the Roman Coliseum.

Surely here, according to St. John, was the sublimest reach
of virtue that man is given to exercise in behalf of his fellow-
creature. His love was an all-consuming fire. It was self-sacri-
fice and heroism almost beyond our nature. And yet propor-
tioned to the stupendous end which it achieved, how very
insignificant was it all. In his noble self-immolation he proved
himself a man ; but that in him Christianity should have expiated
three long centuries of crime, and lifted the moral and rational
character of a licentious world over the beast passions that
swayed and controlled it, bore witness that he was a saint.
And what we have here said of the last of the martyrs may in
a general way be applied to those countless thousands which
preceded him in the same ungodly place.

" Noble lives," says Mr. Lecky, " crowned by heroic deaths,
were the best arguments of the Christian Church." " There can
be little question," adds Wilfrid Ward, " that it was chiefly the
witness borne by intense conviction tested often by torture
and death to the power of Christianity which from the first
fanned the flame and changed the spark of individual certainty
to the blaze of corporate faith." It was the testimony of char-
acter in the hosts of holy martyrs, whose vision of faith pierced
through the immediate certainty of suffering and death, that
made their pagan torturers from time to time fling down the
firebrand and sword, exclaiming to their leaders : " Crucify us
also, for now we too are Christians ! "

Many centuries have widened the expanse between those
days of cruel bloodshed and our own generation, but even to-
day in the very ruins of her pagan monuments the Rome of

1895.] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 475

the Caesars is a mute witness to the living truth for which the
martyrs died. In this connection we give way to the beautiful
words penned by a recent traveller beneath the shadows of its
crumbling walls.

" The Pantheon," he tells us, "once the centre of all the
.aberrations of idolatry, is now the temple of all Christian virtues.
The shrine of Jupiter on the Capitol, the culminating point of
Rome's dominion over the world, is now replaced by the Church
of Ara Cceli the church of the crib the abasement of the
Man-God the contempt of all the grandeurs of the world. The
palace of the Caesars, which was once the emporium of all the
riches of the world, is reduced to a few ivy-clad walls which
protect a convent of voluntary poverty, raised amid the debris
of the Golden House ; and the Coliseum, the theatre of the
furies and the passions, becomes a monument sheltered under
the walls of religion, and dedicated to the cross the self-denial
and humiliation taught us in the Dolorous Way of Calvary.

" The French have called the moon the * sun of ruins/ Her
rich, mellow rays give all old walls a fantastic existence ; but
there is no monument of antiquity in which the effects of re-
flected light are so beautiful as in this ruin. The Romans pre-
fer the time in which the moon is rising between Frascati and
Monte Porzio, so that they may see the whole splendor of its
.silvery light poured down on the most perfect part of the im-
mense fabric. The broken arches and isolated fragments, under
the magic influence of moonlight, assume the appearance of cas-
tles, of temples and triumphal arches, rising on each other in
surpassing splendor. Mighty walls seem riven in twain and ap-
pear to bend over their centre of gravity like the leaning towers
of Pisa or Bologna, suspended in the air, and threatening every
moment to fall with a tremendous crash. Here a broken and
fallen column assumes the appearance of a dying gladiator or a
martyred Christian ; there a cornice, half-buried in the ruins,
reminds you of a lioness gathering herself up for a spring on a
tiger or bear ; and here again a heap of earth, magnified by
some scattered rays that steal through the fissures in the great
wall, seems the gigantic elephant about to perform his strange
manoeuvres at the command of his keepers ; the plants and flow-
ers that deck every portion of the ruin, and move to and fro in
the gentle breeze, remind you of the moving masses that once
filed into those desolate benches."

There is, however, towering in the story of the world as the

476

THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER.

[July,

pyramids above the sands of Egypt, the sublime character of
One to which this line of thought irresistibly attracts us He
who displayed among us the transcendent miracle of the Word
made Flesh.

Christ with us was not as the gleaming of a light-house to
belated birds, the brightness of which is indeed enchanting, but
whose intensity serves only to bewilder and hopelessly confuse.
He was not as the distant shining of a snow-capped mountain,,
filling us at once with unutterable longing and despair. He
came among us not so much as the Preceptor of the truth, but

ECCE HOMO.

as the very truth itself a teacher who lived his doctrine in his
every word and act.

And perhaps upon this great fact was pendent much of the
scheme of the redemption. For who was there in all the day
of His coming that could dream it possible to realize his.
sublime teaching in the flesh, had he set himself above our
nature and merely pointed us the way ? His one divine pre-
cept of charity alone must have driven men down to absolute
despair did not its exemplar, wrapped in human frailties, stand

1 89 5.] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 477

before them its living, palpitating witness. For was not the
law unto them " an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life
for a life " ? And was not their history blurred throughout by
the story of its cruel interpretation ? But to this Christ opposed
the highest reach of transcendent love. " If one strike thee on
the right cheek, turn to him also the other " ; and again, " You
have heard it said, thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thy
enemy. But I say to you, love your enemies ; do good to
those that hate you, and pray for them that persecute and
calumniate you."

Perhaps in all the Christian creed there was nothing more
incongruous to the mind of both Jew and Gentile than this.
To have an enemy and yet to love him, seemed to annihilate
the principle of contradiction. Their whole tradition rose up
against it as a thing unnatural and absurd. " Woe to me,"
exclaims a certain rabbi, " if I have given bread to one of the
rabble ! "

Even the paraded wisdom of the classic schools denied that
men could be made to feel compassion with another's pain. A
" feeling heart " found no place in the structure of their philoso-
phy ; to them the idea was at best a pretty conceit of fancy.
Their systems of thought were artfully elaborated, and were
even scattered here and there with fragments of the truth ; but
there was nothing in them that could ever appeal to the finer
sentiments of humanity in the breasts of men. They crystal-
lized most exquisitely the stream of human thought, but their
refinements froze the springs of man's natural sympathies into a
glittering row of frigid syllogisms. Their ethical reasoning bore
in upon their hearers like a " wintry wind sweeping over a bed
of half-blown flowers," until even the generous, spontaneous
emotions welling up from the soul of youth were withered by
its blight.

There was, indeed, a certain atmosphere of philanthropy to
be found at times, but it was so flimsy, so unsubstantial and
unreal, that it floated lightly around its object and dissolved
into thinnest air. They could toss and worry a manly soul into
a delightfully delicate frost-work of chilling sentimentalism.
" O Plato ! thou didst work out, unknown to thee, an exquisite-
ly sad mockery of the feelings of the human heart."

And so it would seem that only by the incarnation of his
divine doctrine could Christ hope to instil it into the perverse
minds of men.

Even so they were stubbornly perplexed, and called his life

478

THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER.

[July,

hypocrisy and his doctrine a lie. " For he is a king," they
said, " and yet a mendicant. The Messias, and a carpenter's

THE BETRAYAL.

son. Sinless, and he suffers pain. God, and we have thought
him as it were a leper." But when all had been said there
was yet remaining in his character, stricken though it was with

1 89 5.] THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER. 479

humiliation and grief, a something that made the morning of
the resurrection credible and the day of the ascension within
the ken of human understanding.

The wise were confounded in his presence even before he
had spoken in answer to their insidious questionings. His
great sanctity overawed the souls of all who approached him.
They surely felt that his eyes penetrated the inner chambers of
their sinful hearts, reading the blotted pages of their lives ;
and still even the most vicious among them -was drawn to him
with an ever-yearning love. He was in truth the Carpenter of
Nazareth, but he spake as never man had spoken, breathing
forth the sinless, unapproachable purity of a divine life.

A single word falls from his holy lips, and the contempla-
tive John, as also the rugged, impetuous Peter, leave all to
follow him. A glance of mingled reproof and pity, and the
heart of the denying apostle breaks into an agony of repent-
ance reaching through all his life. Even in the supreme
moment of his weakness and betrayal the ribald mob fall pros-
trate at his feet ; while Judas slinks away from him into the
darkness, haunted to self-destruction by the very tenderness of
his words, " Judas, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a
kiss ? "

In short, all who came into contact with his holy person
attest, often unwillingly, of the witness given by his personality
in confirmation of his mission ; as must all to-day who know
him in his works. For life flows only from life, and when the
cry comes up to us through the centuries, " Can any good
come out of Nazareth?" we too may meet the question as did
Philip in the beginning, " Come .and see ! " Not, indeed, point-
ing to the form of him whose holy feet trod our earth eighteen
centuries ago, for the blue of heaven has long since shut him
out from mortal eyes, but " Come and see " that which is no
less cogent for conviction : a decaying world reclaimed from the
throes of dissolution ; the minds of men purified from the
darksome clog of paganism and sin ; loving what once they
hated, abhorring what once they loved, doing that which they
scorned and detested, and shunning with ineffable disgust the
things in which they were wont to glory.

A convent to virginity lifts upon the ashes of unspeakable
immorality; a monastery to voluntary poverty upon the wreck-
age of luxury and greed ; the golden strands of fraternal love
weaving together the fibres of men's hearts where once there
burned an all-consuming selfishness and hate. Hospitals and

480

THE TESTIMONY OF CHARACTER.

[July,

asylums rearing above the crumbling bones of infancy and dotage,
whose cries and groaning wailed out unheeded to a pagan world
in the desolation of heartless exposure and impending death.
The shackles stricken from a trembling serfdom. The neck of
woman, once ground beneath the heel of a tyrannous master,
now bearing the sweet yoke of motherhood, at the mention of
whose very name the iron in men's hearts is softened.

Yes, come and see the child clinging to the father with a love
that is stronger than death, where once it crouched beneath the
paternal hand, gripping the deadly steel with which he might at
will slake his thirsty vengeance for some fancied slight upon
any or all of his offspring. The strife and contentions of so-
cial discord crowded under by the loving grouping of Christen-
dom ; and lifting above all the surpassing music of the sounds
of " Home." " The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are
cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, and the poor have
the Gospel preached to them."

The wolf of the prophecy is dwelling with the lamb ; the
leopard lies down with the kid ; the calf and the lion and the
sheep abiding together ; and leading them a little child.

I895-] THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. 481

THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D.

BY HENRY HAYMAN, D.D.

LL who have visited Rome will remember, among
the group of buildings at the head of the Forum,
the arch of Septimius Severus, conspicuous by its
majestic proportions, its symmetrical design, and
its artistic finish. It was erected in 203 A.D., in
memory of the imperial successes gained over the Parthians and
Arabs by that prince and his two sons, Caracalla and Geta, all
their three names appearing on it. Caracalla, one of those
monsters of passion inflated by absolute power who show us the
awful depths to which humanity may sink, murdered his brother
Geta before the eyes of their common mother and, as tradition
has it, caused his name to be erased from the triumphal marble,
" because he could never behold it without tears."

Some year or two before this crowning atrocity, and proba-
bly in 208 A.D., Geta was in power and in popular favor,
enjoying the title of " Caesar," and his birthday was solemnized
on March 8 in probably all the provinces of the empire.

The usual orgies of bloodshed attended it in the amphithea-
tres with which the provincial centres were adorned in imitation
of the capital. The Coliseum was the grand imperial type
which they all followed. Its sports became their sports, its
tastes their tastes. In the horrors of its amusements no expense
was spared by the prince or begrudged by the populace. But
human blood was becoming a costly luxury. Amidst the short
supply of barbarian captives and condemned felons of base
degree, the arena recruited its victims by repeated persecutions
of the Christians ; and the cry, Christianas ad leones, heralded
virtually a new resource of imperial revenue, in cheapening those
amusements which had come to be regarded as an indispensable
branch of public economy. The scene of our martyrs' struggle
was, however, not Rome, but Carthage. The Carthaginian amphi-
theatre has disappeared with all local traces of their memory ;
but in its prototype, the Coliseum, we have in effect a monu-
ment to the memories of all the martyrs from St. Ignatius
downwards, who, whether in the imperial or in provincial arenas,
were doomed to this " bestiarian " spectacle. To all, then, who
VOL. LXI. 31

482 THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. [July,

turn pilgrims' steps towards the Eternal City the arch of
Severus and the Flavian amphitheatre suggest reminders of a
beautiful group of sainted sufferers, true sons and daughters of
that Magna .Mater of martyrs, the Catholic Church, although
the faith for which they suffered has been trampled out for
many a century from the region which witnessed their glorious
constancy.

The Latin text of the Acts of St. Perpetua and her com-
panions has been familiar to scholars for more than two cen-
turies. But the recent discovery, in the Convent of the Holy
Sepulchre at Jerusalem, of a Greek text of the same evidently
a translation, although its discoverer, Professor Rendel Harris,
struggles to secure for it the honor of being the original has
placed superior advantages for a critical edition at the disposal
of Mr. Armitage Robinson, the present editor. He establishes
with great probability the ascription of the embodying narrative
to Tertullian, the literary lion of the ancient African Church.
Embodied in it are a longer and a shorter narrative, apparently
genuine and original documents, from the hands of Perpetua her-
self and of her fellow-prisoner, Saturus. The latter merely de-
scribes a vision which he had had of the blissful state hereafter.
A vast garden, where the trees all sang around them ; angelic
guardians, and fellow-sufferers who had gone before ; a palace of
light, a throne, and an immortal Presence sitting thereon, are
its principal features. But in Perpetua's own narrative we have
in effect a prison diary from the day of their arrest to the eve
of her martyrdom, when she drops the pen with the words :
" This I wrote up to the day before the Spectacle ; what took
place in the Spectacle itself let him write who wills."

The entire group of which Perpetua is the leading spirit is
one of young catechumens. When arrested they had not even
been baptized ; but through the friendly offices of two deacons,
whose names are given, they are so a few days after their
arrest and before their imprisonment. Saturus, already men-
tioned, perhaps a priest, their catechist, gave himself up later
voluntarily, to share their prison and their doom. Some are of
servile condition, among them a young female slave, Felicitas,
to whom a child was born in the prison the very day before
the Spectacle an event represented as hastened by the mar-
tyrs' prayers. Perpetua also has a babe at her breast, being the
wife of a citizen of Carthage. The curious feature of Roman
law which prohibited the expectant mother from exposure to
the wild beasts, legalized that exposure at once on the birth of

1 895.] THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. 483

her child. Its temporary protection may, therefore, be ascribed
not to any tenderness for sex or condition of the enceinte, but
merely to guard the state from the loss of a future citizen.
Accordingly, with unfaltering atrocity, on the morrow of her
motherhood the law gave her up to the horrors of the arena.
It is worth while here to pause and contemplate this hideous
abomination of the ancient world. After all that oriental mys-
ticism, Greek philosophy, Roman jurisprudence and civilization,
culminating in the Pax Romana, under the much-lauded period
of the Antonine emperors, had done for humanity ; after the
efforts of Zoroaster, Confucius, Buddha, Plato and Aristotle,
Cicero and Seneca, to humanize mankind, in the very age of
the great lawyers Ulpian, Papinian, and Gaius, here was this
foul and cruel plague-spot, ingrained in law and custom, propa-
gating from Rome, the imperial centre, and popularizing through
all provinces of her empire, these bestiarian orgies of innocent
blood. The average sentiment of the public ever speaks out
most unmistakably in public amusements. In that no hypocrisy
is possible. Amusement, entertainment, diversion must be popu-
lar, or they cease of necessity to amuse, entertain, and divert.
And we have the amplest evidence that to this horrid revel of
carnage all other tastes and appetites for public spectacle
gradually determined. " Buskin " and " Sock " alike lost their
hold on public sentiment. Tragedy could offer nothing so sen-
sational as the actual blood-feast of the arena ; Comedy nothing
so diverting as the retiarius, hunting and hunted for his life.
The dramatic instinct was dead, or only survived in the foulest
forms of satyric licentiousness. How unutterably shameless
these last had become we know from the cold-blooded persiflage
of Lucian. In short, the public mind found relaxation only in
what was atrociously cruel or unspeakably foul. To the arena
on such occasions as Caesar's birthday flocked all orders and
degrees. The magistrate in his robes of office, the senator in
purple-edged tunic and buskins, the Vestal Virgins in snowy rai-
ment, all had reserved seats ; while the keen and close competi-
tion of the populace for the general accommodation showed them
seriously in earnest in this alone of all public functions. Here
you saw exhibited, with absolute frankness and with all reserve
laid aside, what the world had come to in its quest of the wise,
the godlike, the beautiful, the true. Here was the bright peculiar
flower of ancient civilization. If ever moral pessimism was jus-
tifiable, it was justified in such a scene and such spectators
as the amphitheatre displayed.

484 THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. [July,

Before such a scene and such a spectacle were these two
young 'mothers Perpetua's age was but two-and-twenty with
their infants newly torn from their bosoms, led forth to make
sport mistress and slave competing for the martyr's crown.

Such was their difference of civil status, but there is nothing
to show that Felicitas was the slave of Perpetua ; rather, the
way in which the slaves are mentioned first, with others of un-
determined status following, "among these also Vibia Perpetua,
of good -birth and education and honorably married, having a
father and mother and two brothers, one like herself a catechu-
men, and a male infant at 'the breast," shows a presumption
against her being Felicitas' mistress. To enhance the intensity of
their loving comradeship comes in the incident of the puerperal
condition of the former, made, as above stated, the object of
prayer by all the company not, however, that she might be
spared, but that she might be included in the list of doom. Had
the maternal crisis not been hastened, the law would have inter-
posed, as stated, to exempt hen They prayed, and she gave
birth to a girl prematurely as the course of nature ran, but
overruled, as they believed, in answer to their prayers, " that
they might not lose so worthy a comrade."

At the moment after baptism, Perpetua records that the spirit
told her to expect " suffering in the flesh " i. e., martyrdom.
Her entire record is all but made up of her dreams and visions,
and her agonizing interviews with her father ; who made four
times the most appalling efforts, tragic in their intensity of
pathos, to upset her resolution, and win her back to the world
and its life. Before her imprisonment, twice during the same,
and again before the proconsul's tribunal, he beset her with tears
and entreaties, and her infant child in his arms, " using words,"
she says, "which might move all creation," the hot African
blood rising to a fever-point of horror and indignation within
him at her Christian firmness, which he in his heathenism could
not understand nor appreciate. " I was sorry," she simply says,
" that he alone of all my family would not rejoice at my suf-
fering." How could he ? The loving nobleness of pure and
lofty matronhood, that elevation of the sex in all its powers
which sprang directly from the holy maternity of the Blessed
Virgin and the divine grace radiated on Mary Magdalen from
the Cross, was brought out, first of all recorded subsequent ex-
amples, in St. Perpetua. We see from her artless narrative how
she shone as a domestic jewel even in the eyes of her pagan
father. To the graces of her character he seems to have been

1895*] THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. 485

fully awake ; to the truth within her which was their source he
was hopelessly blind. From this springs a tragic anticlimax of
feeling, veined with a deeper pathos than any traceable between
the scenic CEdipus and Antigone, or between the scenic Lear
and Cordelia. His last frantic effort to shake her constancy cul-
minates in detaining her child at a time when the child and she
were necessary to each other. " I sent the deacon Pomponius
at once " (after the scene at the tribunal), she records, "to my
father, asking for the infant ; but my father would not give it.
And somehow, as God willed, neither did it any more desire
the breast, nor did I feel feverish irritation ; so that I was not
distracted at once by anxiety for my child and by bosom
pains." It was his last effort, and of course it failed ; and she
closes the painful series of interviews with the touching com-
ment, " and I felt pity for his hapless old age."

On her visions space will not permit us long to dwell. One,
which appears in answer to a special supplication urged upon her
by her brother, foreshadows martyrdom. She sees, as Jacob saw,
a ladder reaching to heaven, but its sides are thickly studded
with every murderous weapon, and at its foot lies crouched and
coiled a monster serpent. She sets her foot on his head and
mounts. Again, she sees two visions regarding her young brother,
deceased some years before ; in the first he is, like Tantalus in
the heathen Shades, longing for inaccessible water and showing
marks of the facial cancer from which he died ; in the next he
is happy and healthy, and drinking copiously of the water of life.

Again, the deacon Pomponius seems in vision to visit her
and call her forth to the arena, where a combat with an evil-
looking Egyptian awaits her, and in the midst stands an umpire
of more than human stature, who awards her, after her victo-
rious struggle, a bough with golden fruit thereon, adding the
words, " Peace be with thee, daughter " ; and she adds, " I un-
derstood that my conflict would be not with the wild beasts,
but with the devil."

Her consternation at exchanging the light of outward nature
for the dense gloom of the prison is artlessly expressed : ".I
shuddered, for I had never experienced such darkness. O day
of affliction ! heat overpowering by reason of the crowds, rude
behavior of the soldiers ! "* are her remarks. One may notice
here the simple style of Perpetua's Latin. Her vernacular was,

* Here occurs an interesting parallel in Perpetua's Latin to a phrase in the Vulgate text
of St. Luke, iii. 14. Concussarce militum is hef expression. Neminem concutiatis (words o
St. John Baptist to the soldiers, "do violence to no man ") is the phrase there.

486 THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. [July,

of course, Punic ; and we know from some expressions of St. Au-
gustine that a knowledge of Latin, unless among the official class,
in the Carthaginian province was rare. It was, of course, a sign
of her good education, and we also learn incidentally that she
could converse in Greek. That vernacular, Phoenician in its
source, was close akin to the ancient Hebrew, of which one
notable feature is the paucity of conjunctions. The latter fea-
ture marks her Latin style ; for she hardly uses any except " and,"
or occasionally "then."* And this gives her short and touching
narrative an artless air of genuineness, which contrasts markedly
with the more rhetorical style of the larger narrative set in
which it comes to us. If the latter is, as we believe with the
editor, Tertullian's own, the special and supreme interest which
it had for him is manifest. This lay in the prominence which
it gives to visions and spiritual visitations perfectly natural un-
der the circumstances, and doubtless a real series of facts in our
heroine's consciousness but which fell in exactly with the au-
thor's special proclivity, down which he was already sloping,
towards Montanism and its specially illuminated ladies. In short,
Perpetua was to him a confirmation of the claims of Priscilla
and Maximilla.f It is remarkable that the Greek text tones
down the rendering of these visionary phrases a sure mark of
a later age, when Montanism had been stamped as a heresy,
and therefore confirming the originality of the Latin.

The personal gifts of ready and persuasive speech, saying the
right word at the right moment, and appealing successfully to
whatever was best and least degraded in her persecutors, as well
as a certain fearless dignity of presence and a womanly charm
of manner, are all conspicuous in Perpetua. Of her resolute
constancy to her faith amidst the most terrible strains which
could be applied, through the tenderest feelings of womanhood,
to a daughter and a mother, proof has already been given. The
transparent sincerity to which dissimulation or compromise of
principles is impossible, and the absolute consciousness of that
truth declared before Pilate, " Thou couldst have no power at
all against me except it were given thee from above," shine out
in equal lustre in the unaffected self-delineation of thought and

*The African Church in 208 A.D. must have used the Vetus Latina, for St. Jerome was
not yet born. It was probably, to judge from its surviving fragments, much closer to the
Hebrew idiom than the Vulgate, and doubtless imitated the latter in this particular. The
tendency, if any, of the only Holy Scripture which she could know would thus concur with
that of her native tongue in determining this interesting feature of her purely simple, refined,
and lady-like style.

fSee Eusebius' Hist. Eccles., v. 14.

1 895.] THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. 487

feeling in her diary. After her vision of the ladder and the
serpent she calmly closes her account with the things of time,
comforts her relatives all, save her father, more or less influ-
enced by her own spirit of faith commits her infant to their
care, and adds : " We felt sure that martyrdom was before us,
and began to have now no hope in this world." A Christian
sister took charge of the babe of Felicitas.

Such was the inexorable cruelty which governed the tradi-
tions of the arena that mere condemnation to face the wild
beasts in its precinct did not suffice. If, through the caprice or
sulkiness of the animal, the victim escaped the fangs or horns
of one, he was reserved for another ; and if by some rare chance
he still survived, he was reserved to the end of the show, when
on some low platform or stage, probably in the centre of the
arena, he was deliberately stabbed to death by a public execu-
tioner. Such was ultimately the fate of both Perpetua and
Saturus, as we shall farther see. Meanwhile one may, by help
of this fact, throw light on a remarkable expression of St. Paul
in I. Cor. iv. 9:* "For I think that God hath set forth us the
apostles last, as it were appointed to death ; for we are made
a spectacle unto the world," etc. The " last " victims were those
who, having escaped being torn to death, were yet not allowed
to escape with their lives, but were, as described above, publicly
butchered by demand, it is expressly stated, of the populace.
" The people," we read, " called for them to be produced in the
middle (of the arena), that, as the sword passed into their bodies,
the eyes of all might be accessories to the deed of blood." No
nobly courageous bearing on the part of the weaponless and
defenceless victims sufficed to rescue them from this inhuman
doom, or certainly Perpetua, and perhaps Saturus, would have
been spared. The people had come there to glut themselves
with the sight of human blood, and of that dearly loved spec-
tacle they were not to be defrauded.

To return to our martyrs : it was due to the ready-witted
courage and presence of mind in Perpetua that they escaped a
measure of harsh treatment. The officer in charge in his hea-
then superstition was disposed to regard them as possessed of
magic power, and, dreading its exercise for their escape, began
to treat them with unusual rigor. " We are first-class victims,"
was Perpetua's spirited remonstrance, " we are to adorn Caesar's

* Puto enim, quod Deus nos apostolos novissimos ostendit, tamquam morti destinatos, quia
spectaculum facti sumus, etc., is the Vulgate. No commentator seems to have exactly hit the
true explanation derivable from this passage.

4 88 THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. [July,

festival ; will it be to your credit if we are brought out in any-
thing but first-rate condition ? " Again, as the moment came
for them to enter the arena, an attempt was made to force an
idolatrous fancy dress upon both men and women, and produce
them in a masquerade of heathen priests. Says Perpetua to
the officer: "We are here because we have refused to have our
consciences forced. We are paying for the privilege with our
lives; and as we pay the price, we claim the bargain." The
justice of the plea carried its own weight, and the attempt so
to disguise them was dropped.

In this part of the narrative we lose our first-rate authority,
Perpetua herself, and cannot tell how far the statements rest on
report and hearsay. One of the incidents reported certainly
carries suspicion on the face of it. After rescinding the order
for their disguise, as before said, is it credible that the same
authorities would have ordered the women, and the women only,
to be stripped and exposed in nets?* - Yet this is the state-
ment ; and that the exposure, revealing the condition of Felici-
tas, raised a cry of horror even from the hardened and brazen
populace ; on which they were again remanded and resumed their
attire. I think we must credit the narrator, or his informant,
with a touch of sensational extravagance here. The story goes
on that both the women were tossed, but not severely hurt, by
a wild cow; that Perpetua seemed at once to recover herself,
sat up, rearranged her dress and hair, and helped Felicitas also
to rise. Various rhetorical touches are here added by the narra-
tor. The most conspicuous of these is, " that it would be unseemly
to have met martyrdom with hair dishevelled, that being the
conventional token of mourning and dejection. "f In admiration
of her courage, the public voice allowed both to withdraw to
the gate of the arena. There they meet a friend to whom Per-
petua, as if unconscious what had befallen her, says : " I won-
der when we are to encounter that cow?" The narrator as-
cribes this to her having experienced a spiritual ecstasy. The
probability seems to be that she was stunned and dazed. Her
heroic self-possession and perfect intrepidity only respited her
from a second exposure, but gave no reprieve from the sword
of final despatch. Among noteworthy incidents is her last word

* The original is : " itaque dispoliatae et reticulis indutae producebantur, horruit populus,
alteram respiciens puellam delicatam, alteram a partu recentem . . . ita'revocatae et dis-
cinctis indutas" (ch. xx. p. 90).

t " Dehinc requisita acu disperses capillos infibulavit. Non enim decebat martyram spar-
sis capillis pati, ne in sua gloria plangere videretur." I restore acu from the Greek ; the
Latin text has et.

1 895.] THE MARTYRS OF AFRICA, 208 A.D. 489

to her brother during that respite at the gate : " Stand fast in
the faith, love one another, and be not scandalized at what we
suffer." In this she evidently glances at her father's feelings on
her behalf, who alone as above quoted of all the family
" would have no joy " thereat. The conversion of one of the
prison guard, a soldier named Pudens, who had been in closest
attendance, and an affectionate farewell, with the parting gift
of a ring, bestowed on him by Saturus, forms another moving
example ; showing how quick to spring was that harvest of the
faith which had the blood of martyrdom for its seed.

Then comes the last scene, the human shambles and the
closing butchery. The martyrs who survived thus far, and
there were others besides Perpetua and Saturus surviving, stood
up with one accord and gave each other the solemn kiss of
peace, as the last preparation for the death-stroke in the silent
centre of the blood-stained arena. Saturus, after escaping a
bear, had been sorely mangled by a leopard, and seems to
have swooned, but temporarily recovered, helped Perpetua to
mount the scaffold, and probably exhausted by the effort but
the Latin here is a little obscure to have swooned again and
received the stab insensible. The tyro swordsman (for to such
the office was entrusted) bungled his blow at Perpetua, who
thereupon, after a single cry of pain, guided his sword herself
to a mortal part, and so expired. " Perhaps," adds the narrator,
" so grand a woman could not have been slain, feared as she
was by the unclean spirit, unless she had herself so willed it."

The site of Carthage is desolate. Its Byrsa on the crown of
the height, with its group of official buildings and adjacent
prison, where our martyrs were first confined ; the descending
streets and town at its foot, with the military barracks and
their prison which had later received them, the arena and
amphitheatre, lie all effaced in ruin an extinct volcano of
human passions. In all their history there are but two scenes
ineffaceable from memory ; the grand but desperate patriotic
struggle in the last war of resistance to Rome, and this which
we have been now recording of inhuman atrocity and victorious
constancy, "faithful unto death," some four centuries later. In
less than another similar interval the empire, of which Carthage
had become a tributary province, had decayed by its own cor-
ruption. Its nominal conversion to the faith came too late to
save it, but happily in time to rescue the young nations already
crowding over each frontier from perishing in the same moral
contagion. Let the philosopher who sneers at Christianity

490 THE HOLIEST PICTURE. [July,

point, if he can, to a single moral element outside it which that
empire contained, which could have prevented its victors from
perishing by the contamination of the vanquished. By staying
the spread of that miasma to those younger races, in which lay
the hope of the social regeneration of humanity, Christianity has
proved itself " the salt of the earth." Had they met and con-
quered a heathen Rome in its decay, they would have found in
every provincial city the bane which Hannibal found at Capua
and worse. The deadly taint of imperial dissolution was
counteracted for those races, and its virus neutralized, by the
Christianity which it had absorbed ; and to which the imperial
system gave a compactness of organization which made its in-
fluence omnipresent. Thus was insured the contact of those
young races, of free and open minds, with the highest ideal the
world had seen. Out of that contact modern history was
generated, and the germs of faith, quickened by the blood of
martyrs, found in them a responsive soil. Around their parting
kiss of peace in the arena of carnage there seems to rise, in a
vision of prophecy, the conversion of the West.

THE HOLIEST PICTURE.

BY MARGARET H. LAWLESS.

HE sits within a latticed arbor, drest

With vines dispensing the rich grape-bloom scent,
With shade and sun in halves around her blent,
A fair babe's head against her arm and breast,
His blue eyes heavy with content and rest :

His red lips parted, and a drop like pearl
On his flushed cheek, and many a sunny curl

Veiling the snowy fount from whence 'twas drawn ;
The holiest picture earth hath ever seen,
Whereon men always look with reverent mien,

Thinking of their own mothers dead and gone,
And of one other, the Immaculate :

Whom all the generations hail as blest :

So Mary sat, with Him upon her breast
And made all motherhood a sacred state.

1 89 5.] OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 491

OXFORD UNIVERSITY.

BY ANNA M. CLARKE.

! XFORD is a delightful city. Its venerable
churches, stately colleges, lofty halls, and fine
public buildings cannot fail to impress and
interest the beholder, to exercise a certain fasci-
nation to which few persons who visit it find
themselves insensible. The architectural elegance of these im-
posing edifices is not their principal charm. They are for the
most part memorials of by-gone times ; relics of the ages of
faith ; rich in hallowed associations, in traditions of the days
when monks and friars peopled those time-honored cloisters,
studied in the silent libraries, paced the beautiful and secluded
gardens, and worshipped in the dimly-lighted chapels ; when
men of intellectual power were wont to consecrate the first-
fruits of their talents and erudition to the glory of God, to the
service of the church.

ORIGIN OF THE CITY.

The University itself forms a link between the past and the
present. For a period of nearly a thousand years it has been
the chief centre of learning, the home of thought in the island,
and of all English institutions none has entered so deeply into
the national life. " When Oxford draws knife, England is soon
at strife," the old saying ran ; and it may be said that in more
pacific and law-abiding times than those to which it refers
every movement of importance, social or moral, that has passed
over the face of the country has proceeded from Oxford.

If search is made for the earliest annals of the city, it w r ill
not be found mentioned by name, nor is the spot whereon it
stands associated with any recorded event until 727, when
Didanus, a Saxon king, founded a nunnery there for his
daughter, St. Frideswide, who to this day is regarded as the
patron saint of the city. Being sought in marriage by a Mercian
lord, to escape his importunity she fled to Oxford, for she had
resolved to dedicate her virginity to God. On her lover pursu-
ing her thither, he was suddenly struck blind by lightning, and
only upon the intercession of the saint was his sight restored to

492

OXFORD UNIVERSITY.

[July,

him. Frideswide, with twelve other maidens, embraced the
conventual life ; in the immediate vicinity of the monastery her
father built a church in honor of St. Mary and all saints, on
the site of which the Cathedral of Christ Church now stands.
The foundation of such an establishment implies the existence
of some town or settlement, and from that time onwards
Oxford has a place in the history of the country. Nothing that
<:an be relied upon is recorded concerning it, however, until
912, when the first authentic mention of the city by name occurs
in the Saxon Chronicle. It was then taken possession of by
Xing Edward the Elder, " with all the lands that belonged

thereto," and by his commands strongly fortified, to afford pro-
tection against the ravages of the Danes. The central position
which it occupied, at the confluence of the Cherwell and the
Isis, rendered Oxford an important stronghold at a period when
the great rivers were the principal highways of the land.

About a century later the great council of the nation, or
Gemot, was held at Oxford. At the time of the Norman Con-
quest the building of a castle, the residence of the Norman
House of the d'Oyleys ; the frequent visits of the kings to a
palace outside the walls ; the presence from time to time of im-
portant councils within its precincts, marked its political weight
in the realm. A mitred abbey of Augustinian monks, rising
from the swampy meadows of the Cherwell, together with the

OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 495

priory of St. Frideswide, gave it ecclesiastical dignity ; we read of
the erection of churches and establishment of parishes, and the
gift of lands for noble abbeys in the immediate neighborhood^
From that time forward the population of Oxford seems to
have rapidly increased.

LEGENDS OF THE UNIVERSITY FOUNDATION.

The beginnings of the university are buried in profound
obscurity. It is alleged that it was originally founded by
King Alfred, who instituted schools there for the encourage-
ment of education about the year 873, but this tradition is not
now considered to be worthy of much credence. The Domes-
day Book, compiled in the time of William the Conqueror, con-
tains a careful and detailed account of Oxford, but not a word
therein indicates the existence of a university. We know
nothing of the causes that first drew teachers and students
within its walls. Around the convent of St. Frideswide a settle-
ment of wooden houses, the origin of the historic town, had
gathered, and amongst these were probably several monastic
houses where the sons of the nobles and thanes were educated.
Possibly the arrival of some wandering teachers from abroad
quickened the educational impulse in the cloisters, and the
schools gradually increased in number and in repute.

The Dominicans on their coming to England in 1221 settled
at Oxford, and three years after the Franciscans, the Mendi-
cant Friars, did the same. Their mission was to preach to the
poor, and by the injunctions of their founder the possession of
books was forbidden to them ; yet they also became great
promoters of learning, and their presence at Oxford was signal-
ized by the enlargement of the sphere of education and a,
systematic study of theology. Roger Bacon, the foremost leader
of thought in Oxford in the thirteenth century, himself a.
Franciscan, speaks of the low standard of scholarship and the
disregard of mathematics, a state of things which he greatly con-
tributed to ameliorate in the university of which he was the;
chief ornament of his time. Before the close of the* century
Oxford was not only without a rival in England, but in
European celebrity it took rank with the best schools of the
Western world.

WARS OF TOWN AND GOWN.

In the outward aspect of the university there was at that
early period nothing resembling its appearance in modern

494 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

times. In the stead of long fronts of venerable colleges, of
stately walks beneath immemorial elms, history shows us the
filthy lanes of a mediaeval city, swarming with a mixed multi-
tude of citizens and vagrants, encircled by a loop-holed wall.
The schools of those days consisted not of stately buildings
diversified by picturesque cloisters and quadrangles, embowered
in beautiful gardens, but of a number of humble tenements
where thousands of students of all ages and classes clustered
round teachers as poor as themselves. The scholars were
lodged in dingy hostelries, of which three hundred are said to
have existed in the reign of Edward I. ; in little halls, which
originated in the desire of a poorer class of students to live
for economy's sake in a common house and take their meals in
common. We read that in the reign of William II. the Jews
obtained permission to establish themselves at Oxford ; their
intention being to possess themselves of the halls or lodging
houses recently opened for the accommodation of students.
These they did not fail to work to their own advantage ; the
extortions also practised upon strangers who lodged in the
houses of the towns-folk often gave rise to scenes of violence
and outrage. In fact the numerous instances of disturbances in
the city disclose a state of society hardly calculated for study
and the advancement of learning. At nightfall, we are told,
revellers and roysterers swarmed through the ill-lighted streets
and labyrinthine lanes, defying authorities and striking down
burghers at their own doors. At the corners of the streets
were groups of young men, quarrelling among themselves or
begging of the passers-by. Now and again a tavern row
between scholars and townsmen widened into a general broil,
and the academical hall of St. Mary's vied with the town-bell of
St. Martin's in clanging to arms. Much ill-will between the two
classes was engendered by the claim of the students to be ex-
empted as clerks from trial before the ordinary tribunals. This
was intolerable to the townsmen, who thought that the gowns-
men would find more lenient judgment in the court of the
chancellor than in that of the mayor. This question of jurisdic-
tion was the origin of the fights of the 5th of November which
annually take place in Oxford. Known as " Gown and Town,"
they are a relic of the contests for predominance in by-gone
days.

Sometimes the disturbances became very serious. It is
recorded that in the commencement of King John's reign,
about the year 1208, one of the students, while prac^feing

i8 9 5.]

OXFORD UNIVERSITY.

495

archery, accidentally shot a burgher's wife and caused her
death. Some of the towns-folk thereupon went to the hall
where the offender lodged, demanding vengeance ; and finding
he had made good his escape, they took three of his com-
panions, one of whom was a priest, and put them to death,
although they were not only innocent but ignorant of the
occurrence. The king was at that time in the neighborhood of
Oxford ; he was an enemy of clerks, and far from punishing
the burghers, he countenanced their proceeding. Indignant at
the outrage done to them, the whole body of scholars, three

thousand in number, quitted the city ; not one member of the
university, teacher or disciple, remained within its walls. They
betook themselves, some to Abingdon, others to Reading, while
a large proportion migrated to Cambridge, where a school of
learning was being formed. The towns-people of Oxford, find-
ing their houses empty, their gains gone, earnestly solicited the
return of the students, and offered to make satisfaction for their
offence. Several years passed before a settlement of terms was
made, the conditions being finally dictated by the Papal legate.
Half the rent of the halls was to be remitted for a fixed num-

496 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July*

her of years, and several other privileges to be accorded to the
scholars were agreed upon before the halls were again repeo-
pled with students and the academical life of the city was revived.
This experience did not prevent another outbreak of very
grave character about one hundred and fifty years later. On
St. Scholastica's Day, 1354, a sharp conflict took place between
the citizens and the students. The latter were overpowered,,
sixty-three of them being killed. This event was considered of
sufficient importance for the pope to lay the city under an
interdict for some months, whilst the citizens were heavily fined
by the civil authorities. It is perpetuated in an annual cere-
mony. On the recurrence of St. Scholastica's day the mayor of
Oxford and sixty-two official personages attend the church of
St. Mary, where a litany is read at the altar, and every one
present is under the obligation of making the offering of a
penny. Let it not be supposed that the students in those un-
ruly times were always at peace amongst themselves. From all
parts of the country young men flocked together, bringing with
them traditional animosities, local prejudices, and political
rivalries. Quarrels were rife amongst them, the strife of factions
ran high, and mutual antipathies were too often quenched in
bloodshed.

FORMATION OF GUILDS.

In the middle of the thirteenth century the university, which
began as a more or less fortuitous gathering of teachers and
pupils, had attained a corporate existence, the masters and doc-
tors exercising control over admission to their body by a degree
(which formerly meant a permission to teach). As the number
of scholars increased, the tendency to form associations or
guilds amongst themselves manifested itself. Colleges, under the
charge of a principal who would manage household affairs as
well as superintend the studies of his scholars, gradually super-
seded halls and monasteries as the home of the university stu-
dents and the stronghold of university discipline. Merton was
the first to take its rise. It was founded, in 1264, by Walter
de Merton, Bishop of Rochester and also Lord High-Chancellor
of England, for at that period all the high offices of state were
filled by ecclesiastics. He intended it as a place of study for
those who would live as religious without being bound by the
vows of religion (qui non religiosi, religiosi viverenf). This col-
lege, with its constitution and privileges, and the statutes drawn
up in 1274, may be described as the model of the collegiate

1895.] OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 497

system in early times. It may, therefore, be interesting to the
reader to hear some details of the rules and regulations.

All the members of the college were required to attend
regularly the Masses, which were solemnized by chaplains spe-
cially appointed for the ministry of the altar and bound to be
constantly resident. Although the day began at 5 or 6 A.M., we
find no mention of breakfast until the sixteenth century, when
the men went to the buttery for a hunk of bread and a pot of
beer, which they either consumed there or carried to their
rooms. The scholars were all to dine and sup at a common
table, and, as far as possible, to wear a uniform dress. In their
chambers they were to abstain from noise, and speak in Latin
only. During meals they were to listen in silence to a reader ;
sometimes a portion of Holy Scripture was recited by a chap-
lain while they sat at table. A relic of this usage existed up
to the beginning of the present century. It was customary in
Queen's College for the porter at the commencement of dinner
to take a Greek Testament to the fellow who was presiding at the
high table. He opened it and returned it to him, indicating a
verse with the words : legat so and so. The porter carried the
book to the person named, saying legat. He read the verse
pointed out, and the Testament was then taken out of hall.

MERTON COLLEGE.

The foundation of Merton College at first consisted of a
warden, chaplain, and scholars, the number of these latter being
regulated by the revenues of the college. They were distributed
in twos and threes as joint occupants of a single room, which
served both as dormitory and study. The stringency of the
regulations never permitted the younger students to go beyond
the gates unless accompanied by a master of arts. A chapter
or scrutiny was to be held three times a year, a week before
Christmas, a week before Easter, and in July, when inquiry was
made into the life, the conduct, the morals, and the progress in
learning of every scholar ; when abuses were corrected, and
penalties, if necessary, were inflicted. Any crime, if proved
before the warden and six seniors, was punished with expulsion.
With the period of bachelorship they entered upon a stage
more nearly corresponding to that of the modern undergradu-
ate. But how would the modern undergraduate, reclining in an
easy-chair in his elegantly-decorated and brilliantly-lighted
room, surrounded with every luxury and every refinement, like
to exchange places with the Oxonian of five centuries ago ?
VOL. LXI. 32

498 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

The apartment which the Bachelor, or " Portmaster," * shared
with a senior fellow was scantily furnished and wholly uncar-
peted, always comfortless and in winter scarcely tenantable.
It contained no fire-place, the luxury of a fire being reserved
for the hall alone ; the wind whistled through the crevices of
the narrow, ill-fitting, often unglazed casement, while by the
dim, fitfully flickering flame of an oil-lamp the student kept his
vigils, intent upon the pages of a greasy parchment over which
an amanuensis had spent months of painful toil.

CORPUS CHRISTI COLLEGE.

The regulations made by the founder of Corpus Christi Col-
lege also enjoin that fellows and scholars are to sleep two in a
room, the fellow in a high bed, the scholar in a truckle-bed.
The fellow is to have the supervision of his companion, with
authority to admonish him, punish him, or report him to his
superiors. The beds were made and the rooms kept in order
by the junior occupant ; this office implied no degradation in
the days when the sons of gentlemen served as pages in the
households of the great. The sedentary labors of the student
were in those days relieved neither by the athletic games nor
the aesthetic pastimes of our own age. Archery and outdoor
sports were then mostly martial exercises, while music and the
fine arts were comparatively unknown. To take part in foot-
ball, cudgelry, and the rough play of the townsmen was against
rules. A ramble over the hillsides or by the river was the prin-
cipal active relaxation in which the scholar indulged ; nor could
this be protracted to a late hour, for the college gates were
closed at nine in summer and at eight in winter, and the keys
deposited with the warden or master until the morning. Who-
ever spent the night out of college, or entered except by the
gate, was punished if a fellow, by the fine of twelve pence ; if
a scholar, by flogging. That faults of conduct were formerly cor-
rected by the administration of corporal chastisement is no idle
tradition. A scourge of four lashes made of plaited cord after
the old fashion, a genuine example of the flagellum of mediaeval
discipline, is still extant and in perfect condition in Lincoln Col-
lege. It is the emblem of office of the sub-rector or, as he
was also called, the corrector and is still solemnly laid down
by him on the expiration of his term of office, to be restored
to him if he is re-elected, or if not, handed on to his successor.

* The " Portmaster " is an institution peculiar to Merton College. An endowment dating
from the fourteenth century provides funds for certain poor scholars, or portionistcz.

I895-]

OXFORD UNIVERSITY.

499

SAINTLY ASSOCIATIONS OF OXFORD.

Let it not be imagined that in olden times the university
was only a seat of learning, and not a home of piety. Its hal-
lowed precincts re-echoed with the footsteps of many a saint, as
well as of innumerable scholars and sages. It was in the
church of the Black Friars that St. Edmund Rich, afterwards
Archbishop of Canterbury, one of the greatest saints of the
Anglo-Norman Church, when a boy at Oxford studying gram-
mar, one evening, when other worshippers had departed, and
twilight' was falling in the dimly-lighted aisles, knelt at the foot
of a celebrated image
of the Blessed Virgin
and espoused himself
to her by a vow of per-
petual virginity. In
pledge of his engage-
ment he placed upon
the ringer of the statue
a gold ring, on which
the angelical salutation
was engraved. The fin-
ger closed upon the
ring so that it was im-
possible to withdraw it.
St. Edmund had caused
another ring exactly
similar to be made,
which he wore upon
his own hand until the
day of his death, and
which was buried with
him. From the time of
this solemn consecra-
tion of himself, as he
acknowledged at the

close of his life, never did he fail to find in his august protec-
tress a refuge in trouble and a deliverer in temptations. This
act of the saint was perpetuated in the seal of the Dominicans
of Oxford ; it represents our Blessed Lady with the Divine
Child in her arms, and a small kneeling figure at her feet, pre-
sumably intended for the young Edmund.

The relics of St. Frideswide, deposited in the cathedral

PORCH OF ST. MARY'S CHURCH, WITH HER STATUE.

500 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

church, were treated with the greatest veneration, and her shrine
was watched over by the monks of Christ Church. Until the
time of Queen Elizabeth it was the resort of numerous pilgrims.
On Ascension Day it was customary for the chancellor, masters,
and scholars of the university, with the parochial clergy, to visit
this shrine, with the cross borne before them. On one occasion,
while this procession was wending its way through the streets,
a Jew violently snatched the cross from its bearer and trampled
it under his feet. In punishment for this audacious affront to
the crucified Saviour the king, Henry III., when it was made
known to him, commanded all the Jews in the city to be im-
prisoned, and obliged them to erect at their own cost a stately
marble cross on the spot where the outrage was committed ; on
one side was to be the figure of Christ, on the other a repre-
sentation of his Blessed Mother. They were also to present an-
other cross of silver gilt to the proctors for use in future pro-
cessions. Thus was the dignity of the Christian faith upheld by
the head of the state as well as by the ministers of religion.

LITERARY PROGRESS.

When, on account of the renown Oxford acquired for the
erudition and ability of its lecturers, the whole literary class
of the country, besides many students from abroad, were attracted
to its schools, and one college after another was founded by
wealthy ecclesiastic or devout layman, each one was formally
dedicated to the glory of God, to the honor of our Lady. They
were opened with solemn processions, and litanies to the praise
of Christ, of his holy mother, and of the saints, while its future
inmates were commended to the protection of God, the source
of all true science, and to her whom we love to invoke as
sedes sapientice. Every one who passes under the gateway of
New College, one of the finest edifices of the university, is re-
minded of the devotion of the pious founder for the Mother of
God by the ancient sculptures over the principal entrance. In the
centre niche is a statue of Mary ; on either side are figures of
the Angel Gabriel and the founder in a posture of adoration.
In former times it was customary for members of the college
passing under this portal to raise their caps in salutation.

CHORAL REGULATIONS.

If we examine the ancient statutes of Magdalen College,
founded by Cardinal Wolsey, we find they ordain that Our Lady's
antiphon be sung on Saturdays and on the eves of her festi-
vals, after Compline, by the fellows and scholars. The second

1895.] OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 501

Mass daily celebrated in the chapel was the Mass of the Blessed
Virgin, and at it the lay-fellows of the college were required to
be present. Some antiphon of Our Lady was ordered to be re-
cited at grace before and after meals in all schools and colleges
of the university. One custom dating from Catholic times is
still observed at Magdalen College. On May-day morning, at
sunrise, the clergy and choristers, vested in surplices, ascend to
the summit of the lofty tower a tower unequalled in architec-
tural beauty and elegance by anything in the United Kingdom
to chant a Latin hymn in honor of the Holy Trinity. This
hymn is doubtkss a substitute for the carols in honor of Our
Lady wherewith the opening of her month was welcomed. At
the close of it a merry peal is rung out to usher in the day.

A PERIOD OF DECLINE.

We must not linger too long among memories such as these,
but proceed to glance at the changes wrought in the university
by the unhappy events of the sixteenth century. Towards the
end of the fifteenth century the fountains of scholastic thought
began to run dry in Europe, and this decay was specially marked
at Oxford ; the declining number of the students attesting the
decrease of ability among the teachers. But on the revival of
classical learning on the Continent, through the dispersion of
the Greek scholars, who found a refuge in Italy, the intellectual
life of Oxford awoke to fresh activity. Grocyn, Linacre, and
others, having studied in Florence, brought the " new learning,"
as it, was called, to their native shores, where, under royal and
ecclesiastical patronage, it took root and flourished. Erasmus,
visiting England in the time of Henry VIII., was able to de-
clare that he found in Oxford so much polish and learning that
he hardly cared about going to Italy. The study of Greek led
to a critical examination of the New Testament, and set on foot
a movement of religious thought which, in its dissatisfaction with
the traditions of the past, prepared the way to some extent
for the subversive doctrines of the German reformers. The dis-
solution of the monasteries, the spoliation of libraries and chapels,
the ejection of nonconforming heads of houses and fellows un-
der Henry VIII., Edward VI., and Elizabeth, served to empty
Oxford of scholars. Under these monarchs the old freedom of
the university was taken away, lest if the immunities of the
place continued it might become an asylum for disaffected
persons. On the confiscation of monastic institutions by order
of Henry VIII. some of the revenues were appropriated to the

502 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

foundation and endowment of schools and colleges, in order to
prevent the total alienation of the property from the intentions
of the donors. Christ Church, founded by Cardinal Wolsey, was
the last and grandest effort of expiring mediaevalism. Trinity
and St. John's owed their erection to the Catholic reaction un-
der Queen Mary. Jesus, intended distinctly for Welsh students,
was established by Queen Elizabeth as the first Protestant college.

RAVAGES OF THE " REFORMATION."

In pre-Reformation times, as we have seen, a college in its
external features closely resembled a monastic house. It differed
principally from a convent in that its inmates were not bound
by a rule, and were free to depart from the college into the
wider service of the church. One of the indirect results of the
Reformation was to change the original character of the college,
and convert it into a place of residence for undergraduates with
a body of fellows supposed to be engaged in tuition. The rou-
tine of chapel services, masses, anniversaries, obits, could no
longer be pursued : Sacerdotes missas celebrantes became capella-
ni preces celebrantes, provided they would acknowledge the supre-
macy of the sovereign and receive the heretical prayer-book.
The royal injunctions, commanding the removal of " all monu-
ments tending to idolatry and popish or devil's service, crosses,
censers, and such like filthy stuff," caused the ruthless destruc-
tion in hall and library and chapel of treasures of religious art,
the wanton defacing of carvings and sculpture, of statues and
painted windows, of gorgeous vestments and reliquaries of ines-
timable value. One of the most striking instances of the havoc
wrought by the commission appointed to execute the orders of
the monarch is to be found in All Souls' College. This college,
founded by Archbishop Chichele in 1437 as a memorial of Agin-
court, was intended to be a chantry as well as a place of edu-
cation, ad orandum as well as ad studendum. The members were
under an obligation to offer up prayers for the king (Henry VI.)
and the founder, and for the souls of all the faithful departed,
more especially of the Englishmen who fell in the war with
France. Over the entrance is still to be seen a sculpture repre-
senting souls suffering amid the flames of purgatory. On the
chapel the founder lavished peculiar care ; a magnificent reredos,
delicately carved and richly decorated, filled the east end, con-
taining fifty statues and eighty-five statuettes in canopied niches.
In 1549, by order of the Royal Commissioners, the interior of
this beautiful chapel was looted ; the windows were broken,

1895.] OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 503

altars were removed, statues were thrown down, sculptures de-
stroyed. For three centuries the reredos was hidden behind a
coat of plaster ; when this was removed very few of the muti-
lated figures could be identified, but at the top a considerable
fragment of the Last Judgment was found in situ, with the in-
scription : Surgite mortuos, venite ad judicium. This splendid
reredos has been restored, and the empty niches are now filled
with figures of the apostles and of the principal warriors who

INNER QUADRANGLE OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE.

fell on the plains of Agincourt. Its original aspect, blazing with
scarlet and gold and blue, must have been very different to
that which the present century knows. Of the massive church-
plate naught but two cruets now remain, beautiful specimens of
the goldsmith's art, eighteen inches high, shaped like pilgrims'
bottles and adorned with swans' heads. The disposal of the
large revenues, intended for the benefit of the holy souls, was
directed for the most part to the providing of luxurious living.
The Gaudis and other annual dinners became huge banquets,
the festivities being prolonged for three days. All Souls', like
other colleges, suffered in the civil wars. On the removal of
the court to Oxford in Charles the First's reign large contribu-
tions of money were raised for the king's use, and almost all the
college plate that had escaped the greed of former monarchs,
tankards, flagons, goblets innumerable, went into the melting-pot
and to the mint, to come forth in the clumsy coinage of that time.

504 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

AN EPICUREAN CULT.

During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, under the
blighting influence of dominant Protestantism, the intellectual
life of the university was at a low ebb, while complete stagna-
tion fell upon the religious life of the country. The tuition
became of the meanest type, owing chiefly to the degeneracy of
the fellows of colleges, whose duty, as contemplated by the
statutes of the founder, was to consist in the study of theology
and in prayer, taking their share in the college business, and
occasionally assisting the chaplains of the town churches in their
ministerial functions. In lieu of these good works, in the time
of which we are now speaking, they devoted themselves princi-
pally to the pleasures of the table. When they entered the
common-room, after dinner in hall, a bottle of port wine was
standing on the sideboard for each of their number. These
being finished, a fresh supply was forthcoming. One story of a
Lincoln tutor within living memory is typical. The narrator, a
dignitary of the Established Church, says : " I read with him
through the greater part of the second extant decade of Livy,
in which the name of Hannibal not unfrequently occurs. There
was a bottle of port on the table, and whenever we came to the
name of the Carthaginian general my tutor would replenish his
glass, saying : * Here's that old fellow again ; we must drink his
health ' ; never failing to suit the action to the word." A visitor
to Oxford some thirty years ago relates that whilst being con-
ducted over Magdalen College by a cicerone he observed some
gentlemen in cap and gown lounging idly in the quadrangle,
and asked what was their occupation. The man stared at him
in amazement. " Why, sir, they are fellows ! " he ejaculated,
evidently thinking the notion of work in connection with such
dignified personages to be highly derogatory to them. Unsatis-
fied with this answer, the visitor inquired of a college servant
whether no duties were attached to the office of fellow. The
reply he received was this : " Them that likes teaching, teaches ;
them that likes preaching, preaches; them that neither teaches
nor preaches, walks about with their hands in their pockets."

One could hardly expect that tutors such as these would
take much interest in their scholars. Except when they met at
lectures, the dons i.e., fellows and tutors held quite aloof from
the undergraduates, never interfering with them, unless to pun-
ish or rebuke them for disorderly conduct or for want of respect
to themselves personally. Of an eccentric president of Trinity

1895.] OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 505

in the seventeenth century it is related that when he observed
the scholars' hair to be longer than usual he would bring a
pair of scissors in his muff, which he commonly wore, and woe
betide those who sat on the outside of the table ! Once he cut
a scholar's hair with the knife used for cutting bread : an
indignity to which a man could hardly be expected to submit.
In the present day, when all barriers are being broken down,
the " donnishness " which formerly marked the relations between
tutors and pupils has disappeared. University discipline is re-
laxed, the rules and penalties of olden days are abolished. Not
very long ago the undergraduate was not seen in the streets
without the academical habit, nor might he remain out later
than nine o'clock. Great Tom* the bell of Christ Church, still
rings out at that hour its hundred strokes, the signal for the
closing of the college gates, but the students no longer heed
its summons to seek their quarters for the night.

THE MODERN SYSTEM.

The college system is not now powerful as of yore. Now
all colleges combine for honors teaching, and the undergraduate
of one college is admitted to the lectures of all, whereas twenty
years ago he received all his tuition within the walls of his own
college. By this alteration a needless multiplication of lectures
is avoided, and a better staff of teachers insured. Moreover,
besides the college tutors, the university is provided with pub-
lic professors and public lecturers. The academical year is
divided into four terms : For the B. A. degree sixteen terms
must be kept ; for the M. A. the regulations require four more.
After the sixth term the student goes in for responsions (or
" Little Go "). This is an examination in classics, rudimentary
logic, and Euclid. It is followed by moderations (" Mods "), the
first public examination, which takes place in the middle of the
academical course and includes various subjects. Finally there
is the second public examination (or " Great "). These examina-
tions are of two kinds : for a pass, or for honors ; the students
may also be divided into pass-men and class-men. A considera-
ble number are " ploughed " fail, that is, to pass at all, their
attainments not satisfying the examiners. The subjects are
much the same both for a pass and for honors, but the amount
and method of work required is very different. In the former
a man must have studied to a certain extent subjects which

* This bell weighs seventeen tons, twelve hundredweight. It was recast in 1680 and bears
the inscription : Magnus Thomas Clinius Oxoniensis. The original inscription before the
recasting ran as follows : In Thomce laude resons sine fraude.

5o6 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

form part of a liberal education ; for the latter he must have
worked hard and attained considerable proficiency in at least
some one department. For the testamur, or pass-paper, much
anxiety is displayed ; outside the schools an impatient crowd
waits to scan eagerly the official notification of successful can-
didates the moment it is affixed to the doors.

In other countries men, or rather boys, go to the university
to learn. In England they go to develop, and the years spent
at the university fulfil the important task of forming a young
man's character. The ordinary " freshman's " ambitions lie in
social and athletic rather than in the studious line. Some say
for the majority of students there is no intellectual life. Their
years at Oxford are an enjoyable period, broken only by the
labor of cramming with sufficient facts to pass their examina-
tions. This view of the university career was forcibly put by
Punch some years back, when a private tutor was represented
as saying to the pupil he was preparing for the university :
" Work well with me for six months, and I promise you a long
three years' holiday at Oxford." But now beneath the gay and
idle aspect of Oxford much solid work goes on. It is true that
some men aim at learning just enough of a subject to enable
them to write on it, or hold their own without real knowledge ;
but for first-class honors, a coveted distinction in the littercz hu-
maniores, deep as well as wide reading is necessary. The number
of students who enter every year is over eight hundred. About
eighty per cent, of these proceed to their B. A. degree ; the
remainder either enter for special study or fail to pass the exami-
nations. Three-quarters of the six hundred graduates whom on
an average Oxford turns out annually are honor men ; more than
half of these take their degree in classics. Some remain as fel-
lows of colleges or tutors ; others have a position in English life
which they inherit. The great bulk earn their living, finding
work in the civil service, the Established Church, law, and
teaching. A few pass into the army, the successful university
candidates being exempted from one year's training at Sand-
hurst. The object of recent legislation has been to render it
possible for more to share in the benefits of university educa-
tion, but it is doubtful whether more men do not take their de-
gree than is desirable, since the market for graduates is limited.
The wealthy manufacturer rarely sends his son to Oxford,
unless to make a parson of him, for in the present struggle
for commercial supremacy the three best years for acquiring a
knowledge of business cannot be spared from a young man's life.

I895-]

OXFORD UNIVERSITY.

507

The student's day falls into three divisions : the morning be-
ing by most men devoted to work, the afternoon to amusements,
the evening to that form of social or convivial intercourse which
may suit his individual tastes. We give a sketch of this day
from the pen of one who was himself for many years an inmate
of one of the Oxford colleges :

" The undergraduate is called at 6:30 or 7 by his bedmaker
or scout. The former is the chief functionary in his domestic
affairs, the latter a subordinate minister to his wants. The
hour when he is awakened is determined by the hour of chapel
or roll-call, half an hour being allowed for dressing. But it does

RADCLIFFE LIBRARY AND EXAMINATION HALL.

not at all follow that the student rises at once. At many col-
leges two chapels a week, besides Sundays, are now deemed suf-
ficient. From those who answer to roll-call (an alternative for
chapel attendance) a larger number of attendances is required.
At 8 or thereabouts the student breakfasts ; generally a simple
repast of coffee and bread-and-butter, with perhaps cold meat,
chop, or eggs if he is athletically inclined, or needs good feed-
ing. At 9 lectures commence and continue till i. On an aver-
age every student will have about two lectures each morning.
In the rooms of his tutor or in the college hall or lecture-room
he will translate Virgil or Thucydides, write pieces of Latin and

508 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

Greek, or hand in those previously written in his rooms, and
listen to the tutor expounding classics or criticising the compo-
sitions of his pupils. At i luncheon ; then more study or con-
versation for an hour or so. At 2 or 2:30 the undergraduate
world sallies forth to what is for many we will hope not for
most the important business of the day : rowing, riding, cricket,
foot-ball, tennis. Of all the pursuits to which Oxford men de-
vote their energies there is none so engrossing as boating. In
most colleges a majority of its members have been at one time
or other connected with their college boat. The university races
cause great excitement. The boats are eight-oared, and the ob-
ject of each crew is to " bump," or strike, against the boat pre-
ceding them, and thus acquire the right to take its place on the
river. The continuous development of the taste for athletics is
one of the signs of the times. Superfluous to say it flourishes
most vigorously at Oxford. Very happy are those afternoons
of healthy sport ; and, in point of fact, the average of study is
higher among those who spend their afternoons on the river or
in the cricket-field than among the more inert who are satisfied
with lounging about the High Street, or in the close atmos-
phere of the billiard-room, or reading a novel in one of the
rooms of the Union Society.

COLLEGE DISCIPLINE.

" Dinner, which used to be at 5 or 6 a quarter of a century
since, is now almost universally at 7. Attendance in the college
hall at this necessary ceremony is in some colleges compulsory,
though it is a matter in which compulsion is scarcely needed.
At one end, on a raised dais, at the high table sit the dons i. e.,
the tutors, lecturers, and other senior members of the college
and enjoy a meal which is always good and sometimes luxurious.
The undergraduate dinner is far simpler. He is not allowed to
have wine in hall, except upon guest-nights, and has a meal
of joints and pastry. But he compensates for this public fru-
gality by private enjoyments ; few are the evenings when there
is not in every college some ' wine ' or supper, where the gen-
erous host regales his friends at the expense of his parents or
guardians with bad port and indifferent sherry, plenty of dessert,
and cigars of the same quality as the wine. ' Wines ' take place
immediately after dinner i. e., 7:30 P.M. Suppers at 9 or 9:30;
by which time the student has generally regained a healthy ap-
petite, and after a square meal he prolongs the festivity into
the far night, sometimes until dawn of day, winding it up

1 895.] OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 509

occasionally with some form of harmless mirth, such as breaking
all the windows in the quadrangle, painting all the doors with
red paint, pulling a number of the quieter students out of their
beds, or dancing a wild bacchanalian dance, accompanied with
loud shouts and derisive songs, in front of the windows of any
obnoxious tutor or dean."

SOCIAL LIFE AT OXFORD.

Besides the sports and pastimes that engross the attention
and consume the leisure of most Oxford undergraduates, there
are the purely social or semi-intellectual occupations and gather-
ings of the various clubs and societies, of which a marked in-
crease is observable of late years. The " Union " has a history
of sixty years, and numbers many celebrated names among its
presidents. It is partly a literary club, partly a debating
society. During the day the room is used as a reading-room ;
on Thursdays at 8 P. M. it is cleared for debates. These are
often of exciting interest. Four speeches are arranged before-
hand on a given subject. The mover of the question may
speak for half an hour, the other members are limited to
twenty minutes. The audience is an impatient and a critical
one. No dull speaker is tolerated, however popular his state-
ments and opinions. Many able orators have had their first
training in this school.

COLLEGE EXPENSES.

The expenses of an undergraduate at Oxford may now be
covered by a far smaller sum than in former days. The whole
tradition of the place is, however, against economy, and the
official, apart from personal expenses, are considerable. The
entrance fee for the college is 5 ; the university fee for
matriculation 2.10*. Besides this each undergraduate pays to
his college the rent of rooms, college dues, the cost of tuition
and food. Some, but not many, keep their battels (the price of
the food supplied to them from the kitchen) under 90; i$o
is exceptionally high. To these are added his personal expenses,
payment for the furniture of his rooms, crockery, etc., besides
subscriptions to the Union Society and athletic clubs. The
system is now coming into vogue of the college owning the
furniture and charging for its use only, instead of each fresh-
man purchasing it from his predecessor. The scale of charges
varies with the size and importance of the colleges ; it is said
that a careful man may live for 180, if he has a home where
to spend the vacations. Every undergraduate pays 2 a year

510 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. [July,

for four years only, and every graduate i as long as his
name remains on the college books. From this source, and
from other fees, an income of some 20,000 is annually pro-
cured for the maintenance of the libraries, museums, and the
teaching staff of the university.

Before taking leave of Oxford we must not omit to mention
one of its chief glories, the Bodleian library, which takes rank
with the great national libraries of the world. Its collection of
rare volumes, ancient and modern, English and foreign, renders
it a favorite resort of the scholar and scientist. Besides many
invaluable codices and illuminated missals, it has in its keeping
the oldest MS. of Homer extant. All the old colleges, too,
possess collections of choice paintings and MSS., of ancient plate
and antique furniture, curiosities and antiquities of high value
and fine workmanship, which may be seen by the visitor. Sin-
gular customs, too, linger within their gray and time-honored
walls. The members of Queen's College are still summoned to
dinner by a trumpet blown by a tabarder, a servant so called
from his official dress, a tabard or short gown without sleeves,
open at the sides. And on Christmas Day, at 5 P.M., the boar's
head is carried up the hall, adorned with banners bearing coats
of arms, while a carol is sung, of which the chorus is :

Caput apri defero (The boar's head in hand bear I,
Reddens laudes Domino (Giving praise to God on high).

Tradition says this custom is in commemoration of an act of
valor on the part of a former student of the college in the
fourteenth century, who while walking in a neighboring forest
was suddenly attacked by a wild boar. Another survival of
olden times in the same college appears to have had its origin
in fanciful derivation of the founder's name, Eglesfeld, thought
to be Aiguille-et-fil. On New Year's day the bursar presents each
member of the college with a needle and thread, with the ad-
monition : "Take this, and be thrifty." In New College the
inmates used, down to the year 1830, to be summoned to din-
ner by two choir-boys, who at a stated minute started from
the college gateway chanting in unison and prolonged syllables,
Tern-pus est vo-can-di a man-ger, O seigneurs ! It was their busi-
ness to make this sentence last on till they reached the kitchen
with the final note. At the beginning of the century the mem-
bers of the college were awakened every morning by the porter
striking the door at the bottom of each staircase several times
with a wooden hammer, called the wakening mallet.

1 895.] OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 511

THE TRACTARIAN MOVEMENT.

As " the old order changeth, giving place to new," these
quaint ceremonies and usages of the past are quickly disappear-
ing. While we regret the abrogation by the spirit of the age
of much that is venerable and useful, we cannot but rejoice
that the old prejudices and intolerant temper have likewise, to
a great extent, vanished. The first breeze that stirred the
mists that hung over the stagnant waters of all-pervading Pro-
testantism was the so-called Oxford movement. Inaugurated
more than fifty years ago by Cardinal Newman, its primary
object was to reassert the Catholic character of the Anglican
Church, while its ultimate result was to bring its originator,
with many men of talent, education, and earnest piety, to the
feet of the Vicar of Jesus Christ. Thus the ancient city of
St. Frideswide became the cradle of the Catholic revival.
Trinity College, with its superb lime-walk, is ever connected
with the name of Cardinal Newman, who to the end of his
long life never forgot to commemorate the " happy day "
(May 1 8, 1818) when he was admitted as a member of the
foundation. So also is the Church of St. Mary, of which he
was the vicar, whose elegant spire is the chief ornament of the
High Street, while in a niche of the sculptured porch stands a
statue of Our Lady with the Divine Child in her arms, once an
object of such offence to the Puritans that its existence formed
an article in the impeachment of Archbishop Laud. This
image, however, escaped the fury of the iconoclasts, as did the
stone carving over the portal of Corpus Christi, which represents
angels adoring the sacred Host. The plates and dishes used in
hall at this college, it may be observed, bear the effigy of the
pelican in her piety. Within the last quarter of a century it
has been made permissible for Catholics to hold college fellow-
ships ; we believe that there are now two Catholic fellows resi-
dent at St. John's, a college once given up to anti-Catholic
bigotry. In the days of persecution it was denominated the
nursery of Jesuits and of martyrs, so many were its sons who
entered the Society of Jesus and laid down their lives for the faith.

Much more that is of general interest might be said about this
seat of culture and learning, but we have already lingered there
too long. A mere glimpse at its external attractions and advan-
tages, apart from its historical importance and venerable institu-
tions, suffices to enable one to understand why a man looks back
at the years spent at Oxford as amongst the happiest of his life.

512 THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. [July,

THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD.

BY HELEN M. SWEENEY.

" THERE is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune."

E won't wait for Upton, my dear. Time, tide,
and the duck wait for no man. I am too jealous
of my cook's reputation to wait for anybody
while the delicate juices of a canvas-back are
meandering unappreciated down its delicately-
browned sides, wasting its sweetness on the desert air of a de-
serted dining-room. Shall we dine ? "

As the party filed into the dining-room, and Kathleen, a
little nervously, took her place at the head of her father's table
for the first time to guests of her own choosing, she glanced
apprehensively at Mrs. Vanroy.'s critical eyes, but was immedi-
ately reassured by an instant's silent telegraphic look that the
arrangements were perfection. She was secretly and intensely
grateful to Jim for having sent to Maine for the thick mass of
trailing arbutus that fringed the mirror centre ; wondered how
long the lower left-hand candle would last before it set fire to
its pink petticoat ; gave a swift, brilliant smile to old Mr. Bohun \
a sweet, soft little smile at Jim, and then the " biggest function
of the season," as Jim had characterized it, proceeded on its
noiseless, elegant way.

If there was anything the good doctor really loved beyond
his daughter, his profession, and his table, it was conversation.
"Conversation," he was wont to say, "is a lost art." Such as
his was, for the only requisite necessary for one of the partici-
pants was the art of listening. During the first course he had
claimed Mrs. Vanroy and held her, fascinated, it must be ad-
mitted, by his eloquent discourse on the beauties of tooling, and
values of ancient bindings in general. Catching the word " in-
taglio " on his left, he descanted on the values of cameo and
jade until the terrapin appeared.

Poor Mrs. Vanroy, when released, turned to young Novotny
and said : " Do you know the definition of a bore ? "

" A bore ? " he said wonderingly.

" Yes," she said seriously. " A bore is a person who contin-
ually talks of himself when I want to talk of myself."

1 895.] THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. 513

" Oh ! " he laughed, " I see. Just take refuge on your right
when you can."

" Thanks. Kathleen is really doing very well, don't you think ? "

" Admirably," he said heartily, with a long look of approval
at the pretty little hostess, who caught his eye and smiled in a
friendly way, and was immediately frowned on by Jim.

When, upon her graduation from St. Philomena's, Jim too
had returned for good and had proceeded to change his life-
long, boyish, brotherly affection into downright, strong, sweet,
jealous love, Kathleen thought it all a part of the general at-
mosphere of success and pleasure she found herself in ever
since she had made her little bow to the public at Mrs. Van-
roy's " tea " earlier in the season. She had been feted and petted
by all the " blood " at Orange, for her father was the leading
physician of that select, exclusive little suburb, and as a man of
wealth and culture had overcome the prejudice which existed
early in his career against his Irish name and what some termed
his " aggressive " Catholicity.

But she did hate to see Jim frowning at harmless Charlie
Novotny. That young gentleman was pouring his grievances
into Mrs. Vanroy's sympathetic ear. " I don't see what she
sees in him," he growled with cheerful masculine want of per-
spicuity where the charms of a fellow-suitor were in question.

Mrs. Vanroy smiled down at her plate.

"He's a nice enough fellow," he went on; "and now that
he's taken his degree, is very sensible to accept the position of
ship's doctor with his uncle on his next trip to China."

" Ship's doctor ? Why, I didn't even know he had an uncle."

" Captain Ascher, of the Millie ent> is his uncle. He sails next
week. Imagine being four months going. And in the mean-
time Kathleen

" Oh ! that's hardly an engagement," said Mrs. Vanroy en-
couragingly, " they've grown up together and now fancy them-
selves in love. Kathleen's free for a year at any rate. But with
her money and notions of independence, there's no knowing what
she will do. What's that, doctor?"

The doctor's talk had long since drifted away from the allure-
ments of bindings. He had exhausted the last exhibition at the
Academy, the outrage of duty on art, the new tariff, and was now
deep in the mysteries of the proper way to make a Welsh rarebit.

" You add an egg, of course ? " said Mrs. Spencer, who was
a novice, but had just received a new silver chafing-dish.

"Add nothing," said the doctor, "nothing to the grated

VOL LXI 33

5 i 4 THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. [July,

cheese but a suspicion of cayenne pepper ; and to keep it from
burning, just a dash of good English ale

" Who's talking of ailing ? Not you, doctor, I hope," said a
cheery voice from the doorway. " My dear Miss Kathleen, ten
thousand pardons ! I'm like the belated bridegroom, or the
foolish virgins, or some other Biblical personage. No, no soup,
thanks. A little of the roast, yes. Thanks. Now, what was I
saying?" and the late Mr. Upton beamed on his friends like a
cherub in evening clothes.

" You were saying you bore a remarkable resemblance to the
prodigal son," broke in Mrs. Vanroy.

"Yes, ah, yes! Well, I came precious near not being here
at all. Just as I was stepping out of the cab at Forty-second
Street who should run against me but Verney. You know Ver-
ney, doctor ? junior member of the Shattock, Lloyd & Miller
firm ? Well, sir, he gave me a facer, I can tell you. Said they
had just been wired that the Golden Horn had completely
petered out, and the shares that yesterday were worth two hun-
dred and forty, were then not worth the paper they were printed
on. Some poor wretch has lost a pile, for he tells me their
firm only last week bought up outlying shares for some one
customer to the tune of eight hundred thousand. If he put all
his eggs in that one basket he's a goner. Frapp ? Yes, think
I will. Know that mine, doctor ?

The doctor had stooped to lift a wine-bottle from the cooler,
but straightened up without it, grateful for the blood that had
rushed into his poor set face, that had slowly whitened and
stiffened during the recital of the failure of the Golden Horn.
The gay talk went on about him ; his pretty little daughter held
her own in her sweet, girlish dignity, the pink-shaded candles
quivered before his eyes, yet he had to put an iron hand on
himself and sit and smile acquiescence to jest and question and
nonsense while the crushing sense of loss pinioned his very soul
in agony.

Catching a glimpse of his face, Kathleen flashed a look of
concern into his aching eyes ; but his stiffened lips made an
effort to smile and reassure her, and almost immediately after she
gave the signal to Mrs. Vanroy, and the ladies rustled into the
reception-room. One or two left early, the rest quickly followed,
and soon they were all gone, leaving Kathleen alone with Jim.
" Do come here and talk to a fellow," he said persuasively, try-
ing to draw her into the cushioned niche beside the hall fire-place.
But she laughingly pushed aside the hand that would detain

1895.] THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. 515

her, and, mindful of the strange look she had seen in her
father's face, hurried to the library.

He was sitting at the table, paper and ink before him, his
hands supporting his head.

Somehow the attitude, the unaccustomed lack of verve, struck
her ominously and she went forward with a little chill at her heart.

" Headache, father dear ? "

" No, Kathleen ; going to bed ? "

" No. I thought I'd just run in and talk it all over with
you. Jim's in the hall. Shall I call him ? "

" Not yet. Darling, you enjoy this life ? "

" O don't I ! Mrs. Vanroy says I was born to lead society.
That's high praise from her. But what is it, father ? "

"There was something I wanted to talk to But it will do
when I return."

" Are you going out ? " she said, thinking he had received a
sudden call.

" I may have to leave town before you are up in the morn-
ing. Better go to bed, dear. Good-night. God bless you ! "

He raised his face to her standing over him and kissed her
closely, lingeringly. He let her go, and when she was half-way
across the room called her back. " Kathleen ! " As she turned
suddenly at the strange note in his voice he made a violent
effort, smiled reassuringly, and took her in his arms. " Good-
night again," he said, and kissed with tender passion the soft
hair, and downcast lids, and pretty rounded chin. " There.
Run away, child. You'll be a great society woman one of these
days."

" I'll be more than that. I am a Catholic woman first," she
said, moved unconsciously to deeper thoughts by the indefinable
something she found in his manner.

" Never forget that, dear. I've done that for you if nothing
else. There, go," he said almost roughly, and drew aside for
her the heavy portiere.

He still held it in fierce agony of clutch when she had
slipped through, leaving behind her hidden pain and tortured
heart, and facing Jim and youth and love.

Left behind, the stricken man sat down again at his desk,
drew his paper towards him and wrote :

" KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN : You heard this evening at
dinner that the Golden Horn has failed. Before you are up in
the morning I will have started for Nevada. What can I say

516 THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. [July,

to my little girl ? What can I do, but try at fifty-five to begin
life over again ? You are not to

His pen stopped. The big, slow, scalding tears of age
gathered in his eyes. One heavy drop splashed on the sheet
before him. He looked at it fixedly, and saw in it the utter
annihilation of a long life's brilliant hopes and successes.
" Kathleen, Kathleen ! " he moaned ; but it was Kathleen's
mother's face that rose before him, and there too, floating in a
nebulous mist of tears, was the baby face of Kathleen's little
brother who died an infant. " Strange ! " he muttered ; " I have
not thought of them for years." He rose stiffly, and slowly
unlocked the cabinet standing between the windows, and took
from it an old-fashioned case containing a quaint old daguerreo-
type that baffled him with its illusive pictured face as he turned
it from side to side trying to focus the light on it. It slipped
from his nerveless fingers, he stooped to regain it, lost his
balance and fell forward with " Mary " on his lips the last
word he uttered on earth, the first he spoke in heaven.

Kathleen never knew how the weeks went immediately
following her father's death. She could not do otherwise than
accept Mrs. Vanroy's kind offer and go with her while she
gathered her scattered forces together. The terrible touchstone
of death had revealed many unimagined kindnesses of heart ;
but no friendliness could supply the fearful loss her father's
going had been to her. Then, too, the struggle she had to fit
herself into her new surroundings ; the parting from Jim, whom
she felt did not and would not accept the platonic role she
assigned to him, all combined to daze and bewilder her, and she
was doubly grateful for Mrs. Vanroy's invitation.

For many weeks she remained there, gathering strength, and
listlessly accepting service and favors she could never repay.
Her sorrow was no longer a thing of tears and sobs, but none
the less was it incomprehensible. At last the day came when
the tide of life rose high and beat a feeble revolt in her veins.

"You know," she said at last to Mrs. Vanroy, "this must
end some time. You are not my aunt or my sister. You can't
go on taking care of me as if I belonged to you."

" You do belong to me, Kathleen dear," cried the older
woman in a great rush of tenderness. " Don't talk of anything
ending, but stay on and on. Why shouldn't you?"

" What a question ! " And Kathleen sat up, decision written
all over her. " I would despise myself. I must do something."

1 895.] THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. 517

" But why ? "

"I suppose because I'm not a bird with a ready-made suit
or a lily of the field, for one thing," she said ; " / must toil and
spin." And Mrs. Vanroy laughed, grateful for the gleam of
gaiety from one whose sadness had lain very heavy on her own
heart. " There is nothing left," she went on in a tone the
more sad for the momentary brightness. " When the bills are
settled, the servants paid, and everything done, I will have just
about nine hundred dollars to my name, so the colonel told me
last night. Don't you see I cannot live very long on that ? "

" I am not mathematical," said Mrs. Vanroy, " but I can
reckon that much. But of course you'll get something nice to
do. You paint, you draw, you sing, you play, you

" Oh ! " said Kathleen exasperatedly ; " I'll tell you," she
said vehemently, rising and standing before her friend tall and
firm, and showing more energy than she had in a long time.
."I'm cursed by doing ^oo many things well. Yes," she went
on in answer to the horrifled gasp of Mrs. Vanroy. "If I knew
how to paint, and paint only, I'd be an artist, with a very
small a perhaps, but I would feel as if I were really fulfilling
.my destiny. I sing just well enough to have people remark
that I really ought to have my voice cultivated. That, after
the nuns had filled my small successful soul with aspirations
.toward soloism or nothing. Oh ! I " and she broke off to bury
her hot face in the cushion, quivering like an aspen in the
storm of emotion she had raised, shaken in the throes of self-
analysis and finding it torture.

" You write"

Instantly her head shot up. " O Mrs. Vanroy ! " she
breathed, and threw herself before her friend, embracing her
knees and looking up at her, her soul in her eyes; "O

" My dear, would you really like to do that ? " she said,
wondering a little at the exhibit of strong emotion.

" O Mrs. Vanroy ! even before in my own beautiful home I

" Why did you not speak of it then ? "

Kathleen dropped her tear-dimmed eyes. She felt cold and
strange, half-sick with nervous dread of what she did not
know, unless it was to hear discussed in open the secret hope
that had lain in her heart so long. Early in her convent-life
she had come under the influence of one of the nuns, a wise,
good woman, cultivated, cultured, and wide in thought, who
had seen the little bud of promise and had given her the ines-
timably valuable advice : " Write write if you must, but bury

518 THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. [July,

everything you do in the deepest, darkest corner of your desk.
Leave it alone for months, for years if you can, then re-read it ;
if to your maturer thought it is good, then it is good, and
your time will come : remember, do everything for the greater
honor and glory of God."

How closely she had treasured those words, how faithfully
she had followed the wise admonition, and now ? Was her
opportunity come ?

On her palpitating senses Mrs. Vanroy's words fell like cool-
ing rain.

" Why, Kathleen, there's no trouble about that. The colonel
knows Winter, of The Horoscope, very well. He'll give you a
letter to him at once." And he did.

That night immediately after dinner she stole quietly out
alone and entered the lovely little chapel near by. A few
motionless figures were here and there praying silently in the
shadowy corners. She made her way directly to the altar-rail.
Overhead swung the golden lamp, the quenchless star, throw-
ing transient gleams of light now and then on the golden door
of the tabernacle. The quiet, the faint, sweet odor of hidden
flowers, the silent darkness, fell on her soul like cooling dew.
Only then did she realize that she was on the verge of a great
change in her life. Her father, her lover, home and wealth, all
gone in one brief week. But the pressure of grief was removed.
The buoyancy of youth reasserted itself. She felt in her heart
faint stirrings of newly-awakened ambition. But true to her
training, true to the instinctive loyalty that was in her, she
raised her eyes to that closed door and breathed fervently the
aspiration she had been taught at school. " O Prisoner of
Love ! come and remain captive in my heart. Oh ! " she went
on with a woman's passionate desire for sacrifice, " take all my
work, my aims, my life itself. I dedicate my pen to you and
yours for ever." And somewhere, somehow, the amen was
breathed in heaven.

The next morning she set out. She dimly wondered if
Columbus felt as she did while waiting for the day to reveal
the land he knew lay just beyond his vision.

She found the office easily, climbed the stairs, gave a pene-
trating downward look at the hang of her skirt, opened the first
door she came to, and going in, found a very young and happy-
looking gentleman tilted in an office-chair, enjoying a cigarette.

"Are you the editor?" she asked in a tone she tried to
make firm but which was almost falsetto.

i895-] THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. 519

" Not yet," he said gravely ; " first door to the left."

Here she found a white-haired old gentleman, very sedate
and precise, a contemporary of the colonel's evidently ; faithful
to the " old school " and limp, stock-supported collars. He toyed
with his eye-glasses while he talked to her, but all the time his
eyes, cool and penetrating, were classifying the bit of raw
material before him. He re-read the letter, that was ambiguous
as to her capabilities but direct and to the point as to her
requirements.

" What do you expect I can do for you ? " he asked with a
little asperity.

When actually faced with her expectations she was dis-
mayed to find how indefinite they were.

" Is there anything I can do ? " she asked. " Of course I do
not expect you to make a place for me, but in an office as
large as this I can surely find something."

If he were amused or annoyed he hid it beneath a half-
playful, half-sarcastic manner.

"Well," he said, eyeing her critically, "I'll keep the editor-
ial page for a while. In the meantime try your hand on these.
Here are three novels. Ever do any reviewing ? Well," as she
shook her head, " take this batch. You'll find quite a range
there. One is an old writer well established, the other is prov-
ing himself, the third is quite unknown. Good morning. Come
in in a day or so with them, and I'll see as to future openings."

She felt herself dismissed, and went out into the street abso-
lutely dejected. She felt that her first plunge had been
decidedly commonplace and could not be considered as ranging
on the side of success or failure. She hated his manner, yet
could not determine wherein it was lacking. Even the flippant
youth was better. " It is the first step that counts," she said
to herself ; then immediately made another. Directly opposite
her she read in large gilt letters, " Darkson's." Taking her
courage in both hands she walked confidently in, announced
herself as Miss Clark, book-reviewer of The Horoscope r , said she
had some leisure and would like to have it employed. The
fortune that lies around waiting to favor the brave came to her
side with praiseworthy promptness. A desk in the sub-editor's
room had become vacant that morning, and quite as a matter
of course she accepted the terms. She wondered if she would
be hyphenated as sub-, sub-editor, when she was actually en-
rolled on the staff, as she fully expected to be. She was told
to return the next day, and was out in the street again before

520 THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. [July,

she could realize what had happened. She tried to read the
well-established novel in the train on the way out to Orange,
but found it impossible to do anything but hold herself in and
refrain from giving outward and visible sign of the inward
invisible emotion surging in her brain and heart.

Mrs. Vanroy took it very quietly.

" I really cannot see what is so elating in it," she said in a
discriminating tone, a little piqued, too, that Kathleen had not
shown her unusual vim and adventurousness to the editor the
colonel had chosen for her.

" Oh ! my dear Mrs. Vanroy, can't you see if I am to do
anything at all it must be in just this way? While I had posi-
tion and money my writing would have never amounted to
anything. My going out into the world, my actually being a
part of that life, will force whatever is in me to its best. And
there is something," she said with sublime self-confidence that
was half success.

" My dear, I believe you. Don't touch those books to-night.
Just lie and rest after your exciting day."

But she could not. She was feverishly anxious to begin at
once. She put all her fervor and conscientiousness into her
effort to do them brilliantly and well. She got along fairly
well on " the unknown," ventured on a little enthusiasm on the
" unproven," and was well on into the middle of the volume
of the " well established " before she realized the nature of the
book she was reading and was expected to review. It was
remarkably -well written. The characters were not lay-figures
pulled by visible strings, but real flesh and blood. But they
were not of her world. It purported to be a " story of to-day " ;
but if its filth were material it would have reeked in the nos-
trils of the fashionable class now buying, reading, and discussing
it. She said as much in her review. She put all her Catholic
purity of soul into what was a denunciation rather than a
review. She wrote strongly, for she felt strongly ; therefore she
wrote well. It was four when she went to bed, cold, stiff,
excessively weary, but filled with a delicious sense of power.

It did not look quite so strong when she re-read it after
breakfast, but she took it with her.

Mr. Winter read her manuscript, while she sat there feeling
Kke a fly under a microscope. He put down the first review.
"A little academic," he said, " but that is a good fault. It is
better than if it were smart."

" Oh, yes ! I detest smartness." She wondered what he

1895-] THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. 521

meant by academic, but did not like to ask, and consoled her-
self by reflecting that he had said it was a good fault to be
academic. But her little air of complacent self-congratulation
was instantly dispelled by his next words. He had glanced at
number two, but read through very attentively the last.

" This won't do," he said emphatically.

She was too frightened to ask why.

" Do you suppose I am going to give a free advertisement
like that to the author and publisher of this book ? Why, the
public would be buying it by the hundred to-morrow ! "

" But I said it was bad," she murmured with delicious nawett.

He faced around with a snort of derision. At the sight of
her sweet, pure, strong face his manner softened.

" My dear child, I know the world ; you do not. In con-
vents," with an almost imperceptible emphasis, " books may be
read in spite of their badness, perhaps, but here they are read
because of it. And moreover, people won't be preached at as
you have preached at them here. It is well done, but you
have wasted your ammunition this time. But you may leave
the reviews. I will recast this one, and then when you have
read mine you can more readily understand what I mean."

Poor Kathleen ! The flush had faded from her morning sky.
Everything was now of a uniform grayness. She had no time
to stop and weigh and consider the pro and con of the incident
just closed ; she only knew she had come in with a light heart,
and was going out with a heavy one. She had a hazy notion
of withdrawing her work, but hesitated, and while hesitating was
lost.

She found the duties in her new position across the street
were of a purely clerical character ; but the work was compara-
tively light, and she was in a " literary atmosphere anyway," she
reflected, and that at least was something.

It was not until she was at her desk the next morning that
the full import of her interview appeared to her. She had
strong, pure principles, had written in the light of her convic-
tions, and then had weakly succumbed and had not had the
courage of her convictions. She determined to go over at once
and regain her manuscript. She instantly laid down her pen, and
slipped into the editor's room to ask permission to go to The
Horoscope's office. She had not seen the chief the day before.
She found him a young man, and justifying the admiring com-
ment of " hustler " she had heard the office boy make that
morning. He received her a little abruptly but courteously

522 THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. [July,

enough, conceding nothing however to her ladyhood. He was
of such magnetic temperament she was won in spite of herself
into giving him her confidence, even relating her bit of daring
in entering his office. He threw back his head and laughed, or
roared rather. " Well, if that isn't a good one ! You'll do ; you've
got grit ! Where have you been placed ? " She told him. " And
now you want to get back your reviews ? Winter has had them
set up before this. Now, Miss Clark, let me give you a bit of
advice. Don't mix religion and business. We're all like the
Kentucky man who liked his whiskey straight. You won't know
your own words when you see them in print, they'll be so
cooked."

She sank into a chair, her big blue eyes staring into his,
" What do you care for, anyway ? " he went on. " Your name
would not be tacked on." As if she cared for that. She was
nonplussed, but the situation was so new to her, the unex-
pected demand on her promptness was so sudden, and never
before having been thrown entirely on her own judgment, she
felt compelled to leave it passively in the strong hands she
found so near and so willing to aid her.

Before the week ended she found a place made for her in
the editor's own room. Her position was somewhat of an
anomaly, but she so quickly adjusted herself to her new sur-
roundings, and was so receptive to the thousand new impres-
sions, she found but little time for introspection.

As time went on and her position became more and more
assured, her world accepted the hearsay of her success with
self-satisfaction, and attributed far greater things to her than
she achieved. It understood she was making money, and sev-
eral fictions in regard to the sums she received in the various
periodicals to which she had access gained ready currency.

As yet she had written nothing over her own name; but it
was not for want of ambition to do so. She was waiting for
something splendid to come, something she might send to the
convent with justifiable pride, something she could make at
once so pure and sweet and strong the world would be led by
degrees away from its husks and swine.

The day did come when she wrote her prose epic. Her
chief, more forcibly than politely, told her he did not propose
turning his magazine into a pulpit.

For some months after she was dormant. And then one
day her great story wrote itself. It was simple with the sim-
plicity of greatness. It ran smoothly along, showing here and

1895.] THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. 523

there depths in a stream many had deemed pretty but shallow.
It sparkled, and for a page or two glowed with the white heat
of passion. It surprised her chief into his first words of un-
qualified praise. He did more than praise it ; he passed it on
into the Centurion, saying a lift from that quarter then would
do more for her future than reams in a magazine of less note.

The day her check for two hundred and fifty dollars came
from them was the red-letter day of her career. She now felt
secure ; she had inserted the thin edge of her wedge.

Three months afterwards, when it appeared, she went home
a*s if treading on air. In the train she sat behind two ladies,
one of whom she knew was a resident of Orange, and one of
Father Snow's weekly communicants; the other was a stranger.
They were looking over the Centurion.

11 Why, here is Kathleen Clark ! " said her friend.

"Yes," said the other, "I've read it. It's really very good,
but I thought she was a Catholic."

" So she is."

" No one would imagine it to read that."

" Is it a Catholic story ? "

" No ; but the subject could be treated so much better from
a Catholic stand-point. I have no doubt that she's had her
bloom rubbed off, however, and like many another keeps her
religion for her chapel. It is not the all-wool-and-a-yard-wide
kind, as her father's was."

" H'm," smiled her friend, engrossed in the story.

Kathleen had heard every word. How happy she had been
that morning, lifted as she had been on the first round of
success, and now !

The click, click, clickity, click, click, sounded like sledge-
hammers in her ears. The conductor, who had known her from
childhood, asked respectfully, as he punched her ticket, if she
were ill. She shook her head. " 111 " was not the word. She
felt dreary, cold, forlorn, and wretched. Suddenly, as in a
mirror, she saw herself, a young untried girl filled with high
principles, fired with holy enthusiasm, kneeling at the altar-rail
and offering her pen to God. " O Prisoner of Love ! remain
captive in my heart." And to-day she had had her Catholicity
questioned. "Not with Me, against Me." The words beat in
her brain, while with heroic self-inspection she reviewed her
fourteen months' work.

Still in the dark mist of troubled thought, she left the train.
Fortunately she met no one and reached her own room unob-

524 THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. [July>

served. Since she had left it that morning a vital change had
come into her life, and her eye took in all the dainty belongings
with which Mrs. Vanroy's kindness had surrounded her. She
felt instinctively Mrs. Vanroy would denounce her hastily-
formed decision of leaving Mr. Darkson's employ, and dreaded
her coming. Her father's eyes smiled at her from her dressing-
table. She went to it, and kneeling down put her arms around
the photograph, laying her hot cheek on the cool glass. " O
father ! " she whispered, " is that what you meant by your
broken sentence ? " And she dropped her head and let the bitter
tears of grief and regret and penitence have full sway. She felt
dimly that her going out into the world had thrown her old
point of view entirely out of focus. She was the same, yet not
the same. In her intercourse with the great bustling world the
fine edge of her convictions had, imperceptibly, been worn off.
Her ideals, her traditions, were there it is true, but a film of
conventionality had dimmed their lustre. She could now see
just when and where she hag! loosened the strands of her
cable. Her truth-compelling verdict in her first review, that she
had allowed to be suppressed ; her insensible adoption in her
later reviews of the superficial treatment such as went on
around her ; her silence in regard to manifest impurities
dished up in the so-called purpose-novels of the day ; her
silent acquiescence when her best and purest work had been re-
jected or " cooked " ; her easy transition into the snappy, frothy
work of the day that glittered as it fell like gas-lit snow how
pitiful was the broken lance that had been lifted so bravely for
Christ ! A great heart-broken sob shook her frame as she was
struck with the sense of utter failure in the midst of a success
that was even then being discussed in the whole fashionable
reading public of her gay little town. She felt she had escaped
rather than achieved.

A peremptory knocking roused her. She rose and let Mrs.
Vanroy in, who at once inquired the reason for red eyes and
downcast looks. Kathleen began in a half-hearted way to tell
her everything.

As she expected, Mrs. Vanroy could not or would not come
round to her point of view.

" You are suffering from over-scrupulousness, or your liver's
out of order," she said. " I never heard of such wildness," she
went on vehemently. " You have, in a very short time, achieved
a success it would take years for any one else

" For that reason, perhaps, I do not value it ; but no, there

I895-] THE TIDE AT ITS FLOOD. 525

are deeper things than that. As Father Snow said on Sunday,
' What business on earth have we except the business of our
salvation ? '

" Good heavens ! what nonsense you are talking. Are you
going to lose your salvation because you do not write as a Cath-
olic ? "

" Yes," said Kathleen bravely, fixing wide, brilliant eyes on
Mrs. Vanroy's face. " My failure to-day is only the beginning
of which that would be the end. Untarnished purity of pur-
pose and steadfastness of soul are something impossible to keep
on the dusty highway. I am a Catholic by the grace of God,
and I'll write as such or not write at all."

" Then there's nothing left you but the Catholic press."

" Having that I have everything," said Kathleen with fire ;
" the Catholic press is the only power, for it cares for men's
souls, while the other ignores the very word."

Mrs. Vanroy made no answer, but put her arms around the
angry, tense little figure and said soothingly, " Come now, dress
and come to dinner."

As they were going down Mrs. Vanroy stood at the foot of
the stairs and looked up at the slender, black-robed figure, with
its pale, spirituelle face, and deep, intense eyes, and apropos
of nothing said :

" It's a pity, after all, you didn't go to China. But who
knows where Jim Nordiking is now?"

" Right here ! " said a voice from behind the drawing-room
portiere that made both women scream and jump, while one of
them ran into the dear familiar arms and cried as she had never
done for sorrow.

" O Jim, Jim ! " was all she said, but Jim knew his waiting
days were over.

It took him many hours, allowing for the pleasantest kind of
interruptions, to explain his sudden appearance ; how unexpect-
edly had come the offer to return with a wealthy patient, the
breaking of the vessel's rudder in mid-ocean, the thousand and
one delays, and his superstitious fear of announcing his inten-
tion.

" It is well you didn't," said Kathleen, " for then not to
have had you come would have been killing."

"Jim," said Mrs. Vanroy in mock solemnity, " you're an op-
portunity, that's what you are ; and lately Kathleen has learned
to embrace her opportunities." And then she ran away to
avoid the consequences.

SUMMER RAIN.

BY MARY T. WAGGAMAN.

O CLOUD-BORN symphony,
Swept from a million crystal strings !
The rustle of seraphic wings
Makes not a sweeter melody

Than summer rain,
A mingling with the lush refrain

Of myriad birds :
Like some supernal litany,
Not wove of words,
It rings it rings,
Adown the odorous air ;
Prostrate in pray'r,
The grasses lie ; in ecstasy,
The red rose flings
Her spirit forth in poetry

Of perfume wrought ;
A vagrant zephyr sings
A strain with mystery fraught ;
The labor-loving bee
Is tranced ; all solemnly,

The spider swings
Beneath a spangled canopy.
He hears the chimes amid the flowers,

The chimes the chimes,
More musical than rondeau rhymes,
The peal of silver showers !

1895.] SUMMER RAIN.

As swift as butterflies, the hours

Troll on the skies grow bright
The magic harmony
Is changed to dazzling light ;
Each note becomes a glistering gem
Fit for a fairy's diadem ;
Earthward the burdened lilies lean ;
The brimming caskets of a queen
Might envy them their treasury.
The groves and bow'rs are glowing green

With emeralds decked,
To every bud an opal clings,
The fragrant lawns are jewel-flecked
The wealth of countless kings
Seems strown upon the world:
When burning rays
Beset the days,
And Nature lies
With languorous eyes
In golden apathy,
With all her tuneful breezes furled :

Upon her fevered brain
There beats the rhythmic memory
Of the sun-silenced rain.

527

528 THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. [July,

THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA.

S a mirror reflects the countenance gazing into it,
so does the intellect of the Papal Delegate re-
veal to us the mind of the great Pontiff, Leo
XIII., on the great problems of humanity some
of which have been and others are yet to be
worked out on the soil of the United States. There is no
shadow of a doubt that this is a perfectly accurate statement of
the case as between these two illustrious men. We have the word
of the Pope himself for it ; we have the no less emphatic assur-
ance of the Delegate. We know, furthermore, that they have
been for many years in the closest relation, and that the views
they mutually hold are the result of the most earnest study of the
questions which have presented themselves. The greatest ques-
tion which this country is destined to see determined on its soil, is
that of the adaptability of the Catholic faith to an entirely new
form of civilization. Into this civilization the most heterogene-
ous elements have entered, yet the world has never seen any
amalgam like it. Its vitality is irresistible ; its enterprise un-
bounded. It is an enormous intellectual force exerting itself in
every sphere of physics to the utilization of the exhaustless
natural resources of a mighty expanse of territory and teeming
seas. The influence which this powerful agency must exert in
the shaping of the future must necessarily be preponderating.
Whether this influence shall be for good or for evil must large-
ly depend on the religious tendencies of the people. It is plain
that the religion most . likely to retain its hold upon such a
country and such a people is that which is sympathetic.
Whilst the Catholic religion never changes its doctrines, it has
always shown its ability to advance with the ages. Its system
is admirably suited to the processes of adaptation to new en-
vironments and novel conditions. Its priesthood, its orders, its
sisterhoods are ready to follow the people to the burning sands
of the Libyan desert or the icy wilds of Alaska.

This is the age of Democracy ; and it is in the United States
that Democracy finds its untrammelled and full expression.
Pope Leo XIII. is the Pope of the people. He follows out
great Democratic principles. Wherever the majority of the

1 89 5.] THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. 529

people has pronounced for and lawfully founded a Republic,
that Republic has his full countenance and blessing, and he
will neither encourage nor tolerate any Royalist conspirators
against it. This is no sentimental characteristic of the Pope's ;
he has shown that he means it and will act up to it. He
is for Home Rule all around, and this is the fundamental
principle of Democracy. His Delegate, Monsignor Satolli,
shares the Pope's views on this subject. He has now had a
wide and lengthened experience of the people and institutions
of the United States, and he has had no reason to change an
opinion formed years ago, that with these institutions the spirit
of the Catholic Church is in perfect harmony.

In his quest of the true religion Father Hecker was fond of
enunciating these principles many years ago, and he early
found evidences of the Catholic principle underlying the Con-
stitution of the United States ; his later studies soon convinced
him that it was under the Catholic system only that Republics
sprang into existence in Europe and flourished there for many
centuries. In his epoch-making work, The Church and the Age,
he sums up his examination of the subject in these striking sen-
tences : " The doctrines of the Catholic Church alone give to
popular rights, and governments founded thereupon, an intel-
lectual basis, and furnish their vital principle. What a Catholic
believes as a member of the Catholic Church he believes as a
citizen of the Republic. His religion consecrates his political
convictions, and this consecration imparts a twofold strength to
his patriotism."

There is another aspect of this Republic which struck the
observant Delegate. This is the opportunity it affords for the
development of the individual. Herein is the true function of
civilization, he believes. Father Hecker, a good many years
ago, set down in his diary this dictum :

" It is for this we are created : that we may give a new and
individual expression of the absolute in our own peculiar char-
acter. As soon as the new is but the re-expression of the old,
God ceases to live." And in The Church and the Age, further
on, he finds that " the American system exhibits a greater
trust in the natural capacities and the inherent worth of man
than any other form of government now upon this earth."

Now, this spirit is in direct war with the Calvinistic doctrine
of the total depravity of human nature ; it is the spirit of Cath-
olicism.

It is almost impossible, looking now over Monsignor Satolli's
VOL. LXI. 34

53O THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA.

collection of addresses,* to avoid being struck by the confirma-
tion which his personal observation has enabled him to give to
those views of the needs and aspirations of life which gave the
impulse to Father Hecker's spiritual life and his life-long de-
sires for the conversion of America. Every pronouncement
of his, indeed, but intensifies the admiration and astonishment
which fill us when we take up Father Hecker's biography and
ponder over his remarkable words. He was speaking as a man
living amongst the people of whom he wrote, and knowing them
intimately. This in one respect was an advantage ; in another
it was a drawback, inasmuch as he was unable to contrast
things as he found them at home with things as they ex-
isted abroad. To Monsignor Satolli the experience of the
American Church was new. He came fresh from lands where
a totally different order of ideas and a totally different eccle-
siastical life prevailed. And yet how forcibly his verdict con-
firms the positions taken up by the lamented founder of the
Paulist Congregation ! The fact is a signal proof of the keen-
ness of mind and ready discernment of the Apostolic Delegate.
He, indeed, is a man of no ordinary gifts. It is impossible to
read those addresses of his, ranging over a great variety of sub-
jects, and lay down the book without the conviction that in his
choice of a representative here the Holy Father was singularly
felicitous.

The training which his Excellency received did not altogether
unfit him for the delicate and important mission with which
the Holy Father entrusted him. A profound theologian and
teacher of theology, he was armed and equipped for the settle-
ment of any grave trouble that might possibly arise in ecclesi-
astical circles ; a canonist of the first rank, he knew how to
apply the law of the church in cases of dispute between bishop
and cleric. In troublous times in Perugia he was called up-
on to assume civil functions for the restoration of order in a
much-disturbed community ; and his experience of men and
authorities in those days must have been most valuable. His
studies in constitutional law and ethics in his early days gave
him an insight into methods and systems long ere his prac-
tical contact with existing ones enabled him to test for him-
self their adaptability or their unfitness for modern conditions.
He came to this country, therefore, in every sense, what
has been not inaptly described as " a full man," not versed

* Loyalty to Church and State, The Mind of his Excellency Francis Archbishop Satolli.
Baltimore : John Murphy & Co.

1 89 5.] THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. 531

merely in " the bookish theoric," but accustomed to deal with
men and affairs of state. And before we touch on any of
the actual contents of this book it is pertinent here to observe
the broad and statesman-like views which his Excellency holds
on the question of race-language in its relation to citizenship.
Replying recently to a petition from the French-Canadian
Catholics in Connecticut, asking for a French-speaking pastor,
Monsignor Satolli reminds them that they have left the country
where the French tongue was in general use and voluntarily
come to another in which another is universally prevalent.
They cannot reasonably expect the same provisions for the per-
petuation of their language as they before enjoyed, and it is their
duty to bow to the decisions of their bishop in the appoint-
ment of their pastors. The wisdom of this reply is clear ; and
it loses none of its mandatory effect by the mild and concilia-
tory tone in which it is conveyed. We have had trouble over
similar difficulties in the past, and it would have been fortunate
had some one equal in authority and sagacity been here at
hand to compose it.

The position which the school question holds invests all au-
thoritative utterances on it with a peculiar importance, to Cath-
lics especially. Other questions may have greater claims upon
minds engaged in politics or commerce, but to Catholics the
domain of morals is everywhere and at all times paramount.
National and regional and local conditions, besides, combine to
render it a vital question for the future of Catholicism much
more than for the present. Therefore we turn to the pronounce-
ments of the Apostolic Delegate on this subject with the assur-
ance that the wisest counsel and the soundest views will be
found reflected therein. There is a large number of addresses
devoted to this theme, and it is impossible not to admire the
clear-cut accuracy of thought which unfolds the true position of
Catholicism towards the educational institutions of a free coun-
try such as this ; as well as the responsibility of the teacher's
office. We may take an illustration from the speech delivered
at Waterbury High School, Connecticut :

"To say that the Constitution of the United States forbids
the civil power to frame laws about religion, or to become
involved in matters strictly pertaining to religion, is one thing.
But it is altogether different to hold that the American Consti-
tution is godless, or that the American life requires not the
influence of religion. For it is consonant with the spirit of true
liberty and well-ordered government so to educate youth and

532 THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. [July,

so to enlighten their minds that they may not only know true
religion, but also love and practise it.

" The youth of ancient Greece entered the lists on Mount
Olympus, and so much importance was attached to their ath-
letic exhibitions that periods of time were designated as the
Olympiades.

"The youth of the Roman republic spent their lives in mili-
tary pursuits in the camp of Mars, but American youth spend
their time in the school-room, to form a nation eminently free
and desirous of peace and prosperity.

" The state has every reason to put forth its zeal for the
advancement of the public schools. It deserves great praise for
having surmounted so many obstacles ; for having erected so
many schools, and for the excellent discipline maintained in
them. Because all this tends to build up the character of
American youth, as well as to* exclude anything prejudicial to
their moral and religious interests. . . .

" In the domain of instruction and education church and state
go hand in hand, working together to accomplish the noble
purpose of forming citizens worthy of this country, and sincere
believers in the Catholic religion.

"The state, in so far as it is free and progressive, need fear
nothing from the Catholic Church, but, on the contrary, ought
to expect great benefit from it.

" Because it was her institutions and effective influence that
broke the shackles of slavery, and secured true civil and Chris-
tian liberty, and produced modern civilization from out of the
confusion of barbarism."

The judicious tone of certain of these passages is not a mat-
ter of accident. It is evident that it is deliberate and meant to
have its effect on the general discussion of a subject in which
good temper and moderate language are the first essentials. In
the addresses dealing with the relations between the church and
the state the same wise spirit is visible ; and it is a fact not
to be overlooked that the views now expounded by Monsignor
Satolli are not new ones with him, but were held and expressed
two years before the Encyclical of Pope Leo XIII. had ap-
peared. As he reminded the assembly at the Carroll Institute,
Washington, last February :

" It is the duty of whoever receives a public mission to
conform himself in word and act to the intention and desires
of the one who sends him, and I have the gratifying conscious-
ness of having acted in conformity with the intention and
desires of the Holy Father, thus far, in the exercise of my
office as his delegate in America. For this reason I await fear-
lessly the judgment of the public and of posterity. Justice,
charity, and loyalty to church and country are always and

1 89 5.] THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. 533

everywhere true characteristics of Papal diplomacy. I dare
affirm that the Papal encyclical is a complete and authorita-
tive synthesis of all that I have had occasion to express from
the beginning up to the present moment. In fact, the Holy
Father begins his encyclical by indicating his esteem and affec-
tion for the American people : ' We highly esteem and love
exceedingly the young and vigorous American nation, in which
we plainly discern latent forces for the advancement alike of
civilization and of Christianity.' '

In a free state the unfaltering and conscientious discharge
of citizen duty is, both in the mind of the Pope and his Dele-
gate, a function as imperative as the fulfilment of religious ob-
ligations. The admonitions of the Encyclical on this head
are strongly emphasized by Monsignor Satolli. He says :

" By these words Leo XIII. does nothing else than repeat
the social lessons taught by SS. Peter and Paul in their epistles
to Christians of all ages. Moreover, the Holy Father recalls the
teaching of his former encyclicals, and wishes that the Christian
doctrine, so clearly set forth in them, should be preached by
the clergy and constantly recommended to the practice of the
faithful. ' Let those of the clergy, therefore, who are occupied
with the instruction of the multitude, treat plainly this topic of
the duties of citizens, so that all may understand and feel the
necessity in political life of conscientiousness, self-restraint, and
integrity ; for that cannot be lawful in public which is unlaw-
ful in private affairs. On this whole subject there are to be
found, as you know, in the encyclical letters written by us from
time to time in the course of our Pontificate many things
which Catholics should attend to and observe. In these writ-
ings and expositions we have treated of human liberty, of the
chief Christian duties, of civil government, and of the Christian
constitution of states, drawing our principles as well from the
teaching of the Gospels as from reason. They, then, who wish
to be good citizens and to discharge their duties faithfully,
may readily learn from our letters the ideal of an upright life.
In like manner, let the priests be persistent in keeping before
the minds of the people the enactments of the Third Council
of Baltimore, particularly those which inculcate the virtue of
temperance, the frequent use of the sacraments, and the
observance of the just laws and institutions of the Republic.' "

Lest any one should imagine that this admiration for the
republican principle in government was a new thing in the
Catholic Church, the Apostolic Delegate is found, in the same
address, recalling the fact that all the Republics of the Old
World sprang into existence under the influence of the church ;
and it might with perfect truth be added that it was, despite

534 THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. [July,

the Catholic Church that the republics of Italy succumbed one
by one to the spirit of royal and imperial encroachment.

The development of that mighty instrument of civilization,
the Press, is one of the most wonderful accompaniments of our
latter-day expansion. To underrate the value of this great in-
stitution, or to fail to recognize the importance of having its
intellectual guidance in the hands of men of integrity and
ability, would be a cardinal oversight. Monsignor Satolli has
more than once testified to the loyalty of the Catholic press to
its mission, as well as to the ancillary help of the secular press
to the cause of morality and progress. Only general princi-
ples can be laid down for the elevation of the press, and this
fact is recognized in the message from his Holiness announced
Decently by the Delegate in reply to the address of the Catholic
editors of the United States :

" * We are aware that already there labor in this field many
men of skill and experience, whose diligence demands words of
praise rather than of encouragement. Nevertheless, since the
thirst for reading and knowledge is so vehement and wide-
spread amongst you, and since, according to circumstances, it
can. be productive 'of either good or evil, every effort should be
made to increase the number of intelligent and well-disposed
writers who' take religion for their guide and virtue for their
constant companion.' No one can fail to see how wise are the
admonitions he gives the Catholic press. He encourages its
existence, secures its liberty, and protects it from error." . . .

To these recommendations the Delegate refrains from adding
much comment. Manifestly it would be outside his province to
indicate any particular line of action to be taken or to point
out any particular models in the Catholic press. The laws of
development and natural fitness apply in this direction as in all
other fields of human advance, and the growing intelligence
and spreading culture of the age will make itself felt very
speedily in the conduct of the Catholic press as in literary mat-
ters generally.

It is matter for reflection that the Apostolic Delegate reveals
a higher conception of the mission of the press, and its nobility
as a profession, than some of those who speak at public assem-
blies as its responsible mouth-pieces. There is a tendency in
this country, unfortunately, to regard journalism as any com-
mercial pursuit is regarded, and to forget that it has a mission
beyond the mere chronicling of events as they pass. Speaking
at the dinner of the Washington Gridiron Club lately, his Ex-

1895.] THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. 535

cellency gave expression to this high and liberal thesis of the
role of the public press :

" I cannot agree with Mr. J. W. Kellar, who makes of jour-
nalism a mere trade, and a poor one at that. To me it seems
a life of devotion to high and noble work, to the enlightenment
and betterment of mankind, and brings with it that reward,
richer than the mere accumulation of wealth, the consciousness
of being a factor in the onward progress of humanity. If, then,
the public press is a kind of social priesthood, one can easily
understand that those who administer it should be conscious of
their high office, and conform always to the rules of sacred
duty. I may not be indiscreet in suggesting that over the door
of every newspaper building should be inscribed the words,
< Truth, Justice, Honesty. Of All, for All.' ' . . .

11 I cannot conclude without calling your attention to one
other important consideration concerning the relation of the
church to the nation in this country. The opinion is certainly
growing, that we are nearing a most critical point in history,
and that in this country especially great problems will soon
demand positive solution. All the horrors of a social revolution
are predicted by men no less renowned for accurate and calm
thinking than Professor Goldwin Smith and Professor Von
Hoist. All agree in selecting this country as the field of the
greatest of the disorders which threaten society. This being so,
it is interesting to note the words of a non-Catholic writer in
the latest number of an important magazine. He says : * The
tacit acknowledgment of the religious primacy of the successor
of St. Peter is one of the clearest signs of the times. It is a
significant recognition of the fact that the Catholic Church
holds the solution of the terrible problem which lies on the
threshold of the twentieth century, and that it belongs to the
Pope alone to pronounce our social pax vobiscum? '

Passing from this subject we find the Delegate taking
advantage of the opportunity the occasion offered of repudiat-
ing once for all some of the fee-faw-fum nonsense which had
been set afloat regarding the object of his mission to the
United States. He said :

" If you want to know what my mission is not, you have it
in the words of this same writer, in which he explains what he
thinks it is. He asserts that I am here to further the claims
of the Pope to l a kingdom of this world,' ' a kingdom which
embraces the whole world,' ' all the kingdoms of the world and
the glory of them.' In my own name and in that of Leo
XIII., who sent me, I repudiate any such purpose. And when
it shall please the Pope to recall me, trusting in the kindness
and rectitude of the public press, as Samuel of old on laying
down the government of Israel appealed to the assembled peo-

536 THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. [July,

pie to express their satisfaction or dissatisfaction with his ad-
ministration, so I shall not hesitate to present to the press of
the country the record of my labors, and say, ' Judge me.''

And following up this idea, we find it still further illustrated
and amplified in an address delivered at Poughkeepsie :

" For the direction of the religious ministry we have the
solicitous and wise authority of the ecclesiastical hierarchy,
directed by the Pope, the supreme Pastor, who has from Christ
the authority and duty of spiritual teacher and ruler. He is
Catholic, that is, universal. By the nature of his office he has
no nationality ; he is American, as well as Italian. And we
are glad to say that the essential character of the Papacy
shines with special splendor in the venerated person of Leo the
XIII., by reason of his singular qualities, and of the policy
which, during the sixteen years of his Pontificate, he has dis-
played in literature, and in the political, natural, and theological
sciences. Let me add history to this list, for it is well known
that to its study he has given a powerful impetus by throwing
open to public use the archives of the Vatican ; and finally, in
the moderation and peace-loving character which has distin-
guished his policy. Now, in the presence of Leo XIII., there
can be no shadow of foundation for the suspicion that Papal
authority and the influence of the Catholic Church are not in
perfect accord with that spirit of justice, liberty, and fraternity
on which depends the welfare of a people."

On one other great question of our day Monsignor Satolli has
put himself on record unequivocally. His intervention had been
sought in the temperance question, over the decree of Bishop
Watterson regarding saloon-keepers and Catholic societies, and
he gave it unreservedly in favor of the bishop's right to take
the step he did in his own diocese. This was a ruling with
regard to a specific case; the Delegate's attitude towards the
wider general question is well formulated in this letter of his to
the committee of the Buffalo Catholic Temperance Union :

' The aim and work of your Union are highly commendable.

" It should be encouraged and fostered by every reflecting
and upright man, who has at heart, not merely the glory of the
Catholic religion, but also the welfare of his country.

" Who can deny that the abuse of intoxicating drinks is a
great evil, and that its consequences are deplorable ? It would
seem that drunkenness was quite prevalent at the first preach-
ing of the gospel ; and probably even among the Jews, for they
had already degenerated from the piety of their fathers.

" Hence, St. Paul, in his epistles, declares that drunkards,
like other evil-doers, are excluded from the Kingdom of Christ.

1 89 5.] THE PAPAL POLICY TOWARD AMERICA. 537

" It would take too long to give here the legislation and
the discipline of the church on this head.

" Now, we must always, especially in the matter of eating
and drinking, distinguish between the use and abuse, between
moderation and excess.

" But, as in the Catholic Church counsels are distinguished
from precepts, and as the object of the evangelical counsels is
to insure the observance of the precepts, so likewise the pur-
pose of total abstinence in the Catholic Church is to withhold
her children from the abuse of intoxicating drinks. It fre-
quently happens that total abstinence is the sole sure remedy
for this abuse, particularly in the exciting business life, and
sparkling, brilliant atmosphere of ardent America. It restores
and preserves that temperance which constitutes the physical
and moral strength of body and soul alike. Total abstinence is a
safeguard of the individual, of the family, and of society."

Those topics at which we have glanced are not the only
ones embraced in the scope of these addresses of the Apostolic
Delegate, but they are the salient ones. Embodying what may
correctly be described as the official utterances of a distin-
guished authority, the book possesses a distinctive value. It
has a literary interest also, not only because of the unusual cir-
cumstances of its compilation, but as a reflection of the im-
pressions of an observer of the higher life of this country and
people, perfectly impartial and coming directly from a land
whose associations and institutions and ideas were as far re-
moved from those which obtain here as any antithesis in the
whole world could be. It is a very graceful act, too, to conse-
crate whatever of profit there is in the disposition of the book
to the work of the conversion of the negro race. We have no
fear of the effect of the book upon the American public. It is
a testament whose honesty speaks in many a passage. This is
a quality which is appreciated here in the world of morals at
all events, and the American people will not refuse an honest
verdict to Monsignor Satolli.

538 WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? [July,

WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS ?

BY F. M. EDSELAS.

'INCE the aged live more in the past than in the
present or future, there may be within the mem-
ory of the oldest inhabitant of some large city
a tradition of the long ago when girls were girls,
boys were boys, and flesh-and-blood children
walked this earth. Though still bearing the name, we too sel-
dom find these flowers from God's earthly garden ; perchance
soil and climate are not adapted to their growth ; some plants
will not stand the forcing process of the hot-house. The hints
here given may help to bring back those days of yore, when
old heads were not so often set on young shoulders, but inno-
cence and simplicity gave their charm to these beautiful spring
blossoms.

Venturing, then, to retain the good old-fashioned title of chil-
dren, the question, What shall we do with our girls? forces^ it-
self upon us just now in Commencement season when the clos-
ing school sends out into the world its bevy of maidens. Their
rosy cheeks tell of the sunshine's kiss, and we catch the light of
their merry, dancing eyes, the melody of rippling laughter that
echoes the joy bubbling up free and pure from their happy,
happy hearts. Oh, young and blooming life ! we exclaim. In-
deed, with what a world of sunshine do they flood the earth,
sending us old fogies on our way younger and happier all the
day long.

God bless and keep them thus ! we say from our heart of
hearts, remembering such as they are now once were we, and
such as we are will they ere long become, only wiser and bet-
ter we fervently pray. Then it is that this idea of their future
sets us thinking in dead earnest ; and a serious matter indeed
it is, knowing as we do that the character of many a Mary and
Helen hinges upon that of our own Daisy, and hers upon theirs.

What shall I do with this child to make more of her than I
have of myself, that she may have fewer faults and more vir-
tues, and become a truer, nobler woman ?

Do with her? Just what God intended, neither more nor

1 895.] WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? 539

less. Fill up her measure of capacity whether large or small.
Avoid great expectations and the steam process that goes with
it. God's mills grind slowly. She may have little marked ability ;
never mind, that is not her fault. Perhaps she will not be
beautiful and attractive, as the world measures such things ; no
matter, all the better perchance for her in the end. Do not
complain of the inevitable ; even though mind and body may be
crippled, such as your child is she came from the hands of her
Maker. " Nature is ever fairer than any touch you can give
her."

Whatever nature's defects, s.he is not perforce doomed to
an isolated life. God's great law of compensation works .here
as elsewhere. This good Master may have given that happy
temperament which is a greater blessing than if she were beauty
and wisdom personified.

Let her anticipate the needs and wishes of others, turning
each day into one o-f gladsome sunshine, instead of letting it
break in a thunder-storm, then surely she will not have lived in
vain. To be sure we can look on the cloudy side of life and
make the worst of our ups and downs, but can't we quite as
easily turn our sun-glass the other way, and catch the radiance
that is always waiting for the first comer? We read of bottled
sunshine, a chemical device : using a little spiritual chemistry in
a similar way might not be less effective.

There is too much of this standing in our own and other
people's sunlight. The cheery face of the young girl who
carries the olive-branch of peace and good-will has ever a pass-
port to hearts and homes, far outweighing all other gifts.

Perilous beyond human ken is that transition state called
maidenhood. Until then parents and teachers guided the falter-
ing steps ; but presto ! a change has come : things are not what
they seemed ; new views of life and the world are revealed ;
leading-strings have snapped, and our little maiden walks alone.

Smiling upon the world, it in turn smiles upon her. Under
her gingham sunbonnet she was only Daisy : now, in her velvet
hat with its pink-tipped feather, she is Marguerite ; some of the
lads prefix Miss. A little abashed, of course, when the title is
first conferred, soon a thrill of pleasure through her quickly
beating heart is the glad response.

Looking around, she finds other buds of promise just blos-
soming like herself, and almost unconsciously wishes to be the
peer of them all. Little airs and graces are donned with the

540 WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? [July,

new hat and feather, as gaily she looks out upon the bright
world opening before her.

Hopes and fears, plans and purposes, flimsy and illusive in
themselves perhaps, but none the less important to our young
maiden, come in turn like so many air-castles, taking a hundred
different shapes, ever tumbling down only to be rebuilt under
other forms : these fill the new world before her, as Miss
Marguerite sits by her moon-lit window. There, imagining her-
self a Juliet, Desdemona, or some other romantic damsel, she
passes through the greatest of all crises.

After all, the real, vital question is, What of her character,
her inner life ? This is the question above all others ; sound
and measure it well, for here lies your field of labor.

Many a too fond mother, who looked upon her darling as a
rara avis, found later on that she was the same as other fledg-
lings, whose wings require clipping now and then lest the bird
fly too far. Passions will need to be checked, inclinations trained
and fostered, delicacy and refinement of feeling cultured, result-
ing in that tender regard for others' needs and failings which
is the current coin of true womanhood.

Be not surprised at the cropping out of nature's freaks and
foibles ; at the strong, positive assertions of " wills " and
"wont's"; at suspicions breeding jealousies, and jealousies sus-
picions, with tricks and slippery actions now and then ; Dame
Nature is still our mother, and we are chips of that old, very
old block, Mother Eve, and must bide the consequences. Then
let your child's faults be matter for grief rather than surprise
and anger.

Human nature is so variable that of half-a-dozen girls in the
same family special training might be required for each ; yet
consistency, hence impartiality, is indispensable.

With their quick little wits, in nothing do children sooner
note defects, and realize the consequences too, ever giving the
preference to that Ego which came at our birth and abides with
us till death.

In this great work have ever in view something higher and
better than the mere act itself. Never will this suggestion be
more pertinent than in giving correction, which should be as a
necessary means to a necessary end, not in spasmodic doses, or
as a vent for suppressed steam ; neither in promises and threats
effective as a puff of wind : nothing sooner weakens authority,
making of it a dead-letter.

1 895.] WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? 541

The exceptional tact and discernment so necessary will lead
the wise parent to see that one must be roused and urged on,
another held back and led cautiously ; the timid braced and
strengthened, the obstinate and wilful softened and subdued by
the mother touch and word, rather than crushed and broken on
the wheel.

That very stubbornness, turned into the right channel, later
on may give its possessor the very will-power needed for some
grand, beneficent work, and as Carlyle, the cynic seer, admits,
" Make it possible to write on the eternal skies the record of a
heroic life."

You must learn, too, how to take these little maidens ; they
have their moods as well as we. " In the pouts " with them is
" a fit of the blues " with their elders. Sometimes they sing
gaily in the tree-tops, then suddenly are down in the valley,
hardly knowing how they got there. Be very sure that these
fits are not allowed to grow upon them, for out of nothing else
can you sooner make a cranky, moody woman than of such
material. To our sorrow we have all met them.

Just now one comes before me : an exceptionally gifted per-
son, a fine musician and vocalist, charming in social intercourse,
magnetic in character, yet withal so moody at times that she
hardly speaks to her best friend, even failing in the most
common courtesies of life. Such persons are a torture to them-
selves and others, hence too much care cannot be taken to pre-
vent this defect becoming a chronic disease.

The choice of associates cannot ^be too strongly emphasized,
demanding as it does wisdom and discernment in a supreme de-
gree. Prove to your daughter by actual facts that what they
are she will actually become. Draw comparisons between young
girls of her own age, calling attention to what is worthy or un-
worthy of imitation, showing the impressions already made out-
side their own little circle by their demeanor and general con-
duct. This will prove far more effective than severer measures
in breaking off an undesirable friendship which, in nine cases
out of ten, would lead to secret meetings and its consequent
evils.

The more surely to gain your point, open the doors to some
bright, pleasant girls, who will prove an advantage to your chil-
dren. But don't make them gilt-edged visitors, to sit on your
best chairs in the parlor ; no, give the range of house and
grounds as far as possible, making your welcome so cordial that

542 WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? [July,

the enjoyment will be mutual ; even though a few decades mark
the gap between your age and theirs the pleasure need not be
less. It is possible to keep a young heart enshrined by one
who has passed the allotted three-score-years-and-ten.

I know of such a treasure, and see her before me now,
through the mist of years : the bright, sunny nature beaming
out of the cheery face framed in silver drew around her a
circle of merry, winsome girls, delighted to bask in the sunlight
of that pleasant home.

" Call her old ? " exclaimed one of the young sprites. " Why
she's as young and full of life and fun as any of us ; that's
what keeps her from growing old. She gets us out of our mis-
chief, shows us how to do things, work for the poor and all
that ; says young folks shouldn't be only good, but good for
something too. All her children are grown up and away from
home ; but when we're there she says we bring 'em all back
again, just as they used to be. Everybody can't help loving
her, so I'm going to try and keep young too, till I'm a hun-
dred anyway." Thank God for all the Mrs. Blanks in the
world : may their number never decrease or their shadows grow
less, while each of us adds our own name to the blessed
list!

As Miss Marguerite enters her teens the rewards and punish-
ments of early years should give place to some higher motive,
leading to a choice of the right for its own sake. Let your
training be rather that of a guide than ruler. That is indeed
a brutal nature which can be governed only by force ; cases
there may be requiring it, but let these stand as the sad ex-
ceptions rather than the rule. Above all avoid that constant
nagging which begins, continues, and ends with a litany of
dont's, dont's, donfs ; why it takes all the courage and good-
will out of the ordinary girl, until she is afraid to walk, run, or
even sneeze, lest she hear the ever-recurring don't. Small won-
der if she says to herself, " Bless my stars ! is there anything I
can do ? " The same old saws continually repeated lose their
meaning, and come to be regarded as the way old folks have
of talking to children. A young girl away from school, glanc-
ing over the closely-written pages of her home-letter, said to
her companion :

" Pshaw ! this is the advice part ; I always skip that, don't
you, Nell? I know it by heart already."

" No, indeed ; mamma and papa hardly ever write the same

1 895.] WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? 543

thing twice unless I do something to make them ; then they
always end off with, ' Hope we need not remind you of that
again ' ; and you'd better believe they don't, for I can just see
the real meaning look they have then ; and I tell you, it's
worth yards and miles of scoldings and lectures, and hurts more
too. I tell mamma everything, and she tells me too, and we
do have such good times together."

Results prove the training given. Our teeming crops tell of
their culture and the soil that nurtured them.

Could we see the workings of those busy little brains, often
puzzling over our inconsistencies, many a shrewd and just com-
ment would we find upon our methods. In the freshness of
their simple faith, in blessed ignorance of the world's delusions,
they fail to see that the varied phases of truth and falsehood
can easily be made syn.onymous through their convenient sub-
terfuges. The usages of society, or more truly, social shams,
are the most common examples of this evasion. For instance,
taking a person into your friendship and gushing over her in
public only to make a foot-ball of her elsewhere. How can the
vital principle of honesty as the summum bonum be thus in-
culcated ? And yet this is only one of the many ways in which
* integrity of character is imperilled.

Avoid eagerness in the culture of these young plants : soon
enough if well enough. The lowest orders of animal and vege-
table life mature most rapidly and as quickly die, that of many
being limited to a single day. Shall your child develop like
the mushroom ? Then will her existence be like that of this
ephemeral plant.

That which is enduring cannot have too sure and stable a
foundation. Your child's character is formed for eternity ; build,
oh ! build then wisely and well. Better far the slow, insensible
development that through months and years of patient waiting
she may become, like the strong and sturdy oak, at once a
memory and a promise.

Follow nature's trend, giving the higher, better instincts free
play, and you are safe. Time, patience, and a tremendous
stock of unwearied effort are the indispensables. Aim not be-
yond God's mark ; forestall not his designs to make out of your
timid, shrinking child, if such she be, that for which she was
never intended. We are still unable to fit the square into a
circle, or the cube into a sphere. To cramp and twist her
nature out of its destined shape can end only in failure.

544 WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? [July,

Abnormal growths produce only monstrosities. Do your best
with the material in hand. Not how much, but how.

You may perhaps want to make of your daughter a nightin-
gale, when the first germ of the vocalist isn't in her. Bushels
of acorns will never produce a single elm, nor a hundred ears
of corn one grain of wheat. Through the blindness of parental
folly how much time is wasted by forcing this art of arts into
the service of your children !

Simply because some famous musician electrifies the world,
must it follow that you have given birth to another ? It is well
that your child should be nearer and dearer to you than any
other, but don't put her into a pneumatic tube, expecting she
will be landed at once on the pinnacle of fame ; little wonder,
if she were, that the sudden elevation would end in a speedy
downfall. Genius, that of your Marguerite included, must and
will assert itself.

Experiments often give the clue to a discovery. Tapping a
tree tells if the sap is ready to flow. " Trifles light as air are
inspirations strong as holy writ."

The talent of a young maiden may be in the line of domes-
tic work, making her an excellent house-keeper, an accomplish-
ment too often neglected, yet contributing quite as much as
any other to the happiness of home. A good " square " meal
and a well-ordered house go farther with the great majority
than all the sonatas, paintings, and statuary ever evolved by
artistic genius. Not that these are to be overlooked, by no
means ; God-given, our higher, better nature demands this very
culture, but let the plumb-line of consistency be drawn, giving
essentials the preference.

With all their filmy, frothy, flyabout ways, these little wo-
men have much substantial ground upon which to build. See
how earnestly they throw themselves into their favorite occupa-
tion ; then give some wortky object as an out-put for this surplus
energy, making it as attractive as possible ; sugared pills are
more easily swallowed. Encourage the first awkward attempts,
failures though they be ; dogged perseverance is worth a hundred
times over what the world styles genius, which really is nothing
else. The strokes of the sculptor repeated again and again at
length reveal the beautiful statue, which, as Hawthorne tells us,
is hidden in every block of marble.

The implanting, or rather awakening, religious instincts is the
basis upon which character in its noblest aspect alone can rest.

1 895.] WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH OUR GIRLS? 545

These instincts in embryo are found in every human being ; to
foster and nurture this seed of divine life is " confessedly the
most serious problem a sane man can be called to solve."
Early inculcated and carefully nurtured, it will become so well
rooted that coming years shall only engraft it the more firmly,
enabling it to resist whatever may be brought to bear against it.

The beauties of our holy faith in its matchless simplicity,
stripped of the superstitious ideas with which well-meaning but
misinformed Catholics becloud the truth, typify some great
truth in our Lord's doctrine or event in his divine life.

Thus coming to the real essence of religion and imbibing
its spirit, they will learn what life is in itself, and still more
what is its meaning for them individually. Taking Christ as
their model, and being familiar with that simple but wondrous
life, theirs, too, will be moulded thereon. Seeing gentleness,
purity, charity, and all the other virtues that add grace and
dignity, sanctity and beauty to character, in fact that are the
make-up of every genuine character as mirrored in the Divine
Master's, they will desire nothing more, be satisfied with noth-
ing less.

It will then come to this: seeking religion will be for them
seeking Christ, learning his ways, breathing his atmosphere, and
imbibing his divine Spirit. Living this charmed life, the happi-
ness which you as parents so much desire for your daughters
is assuredly theirs, with the peace that can only come to a
soul stayed on God. They will see that this is Christianity,
real and vital, the truest philosophy of life ever presented.
With such guidance, little fear for your children's future,
since this is the perfection of living, "that life which is life
indeed."

VOL. LXI. 35

CATHEDRAL OF MARQUETTE, MICH.

BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE OJ1BWAYS.

BY REV. THOMAS JEFFERSON JENKINS.

ROM St. Paul to Duluth it had rained like a
Northern April, though it verged upon the last
week in August.

" Why, sir," remarked a questioned brakesman,
" you will not find that the grade between the
Mississippi and the lakes exceeds a hundred feet. There are
two inclines ; the 'rest is level pulling."

It was not to be believed. Indeed, the waters which reflect
the shipping of the Bay of Duluth are over six hundred feet
above the level of the sea ; and quite a thousand feet are
attainable in the granite ridge girding the twenty-three miles of
habitations, stretching their linked lengths along the American
head of Lake Superior.

But what is that curious minareted building, a crown and a
cross painted large over the door, and the date 1890 as visible
as they? A story handed verily down relates that a hundred
Polish families, not direct from their persecuted land, but con-
gregating by common purpose from this and the neighboring
State of Wisconsin, colonized together hereabouts, and putting
their little means as well as strong hands together, erected this
church.

There is a dramatic chapter of history connected with these

1 89 5.] BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. 547

too-seldom visited parts, which it will be necessary to reveal in
brief, if we would understand their geography. Here have I
brought together the main points.

Less then fifty years after the discovery of America, De
Soto indeed came upon the Mississippi ; but Cartier had twelve
years before sailed up the St. Lawrence, thus entering upon
and claiming for Catholic Spain and France the western valley
of the midland water-course and the immense territory around
the Great Lakes, and founding the French dominion, which
finally prevailed from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf.

Fifteen years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth, and
two years previous to the settlement of the English at James-
town in Virginia, the first permanent settlement of the French
was made on the St. Lawrence River. In the same year that
Lord Baltimore's Catholic English colony were erecting the first
cross on the Chesapeake, and on the feast of the Blessed
Virgin commenced the town of St. Mary's, a French Catholic,
Jean Nicollet, visited the Winnebagoes and other Indian tribes
at Green Bay.

A few years afterwards the future martyrs, Father Jogues
and a Jesuit companion, planted the cross at Sault Ste. Marie,
where three times is the blessed name of the Mother of Jesus
repeated in the names of fall, river, and town. We know that
it was not exactly trading or swapping knives that brought
these brave missionaries into these border-lands of the New
World. They were followed by the Recollects and Sulpitians,
and in fifteen years no less than ten Jesuits, one Franciscan,
and two Sulpitians were massacred for the faith along the St.
Lawrence and Great Lakes.

We have their Relations, as their adventures and histories
are called, which form the basis of the history of these parts,
translated by a non-Catholic bishop, Kip, and written upon
by Peabody, and especially by the great American annalist,
Bancroft. The historian, Francis Parkman, in his eight several
volumes does prosaic justice to our glorious missionaries and
the Catholic heroes who opened up this vast region to
Christianity and civilization. The latter says of them : " For the
edification of pious readers they are filled with intolerably
tedious stories of baptisms, conversions, and examples of con-
verts ; but," he adds, " they are relieved abundantly by observations
on winds, currents, and tides of the Great Lakes, and speculate
on an underground outlet of Lake Superior, give accounts of
copper mines, etc." It was said that a half-brother of a famous

548

BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. [July,

writer and archbishop, Fenelon, had been among the settlers in
this region.

And it interests us still more to learn that the first decent
map of this very
Lake Superior was
gotten out by the
Jesuits over two
centuries ago. It
will be a surprise
to learn that the
first civilized name
of the grandest of
lakes was Tracy
given by a trans-
planted Irishman
who had entered
the French colo-
nial service. He
had come from
Fort St. Anne,
built by Sieur
Champlain on the
lake called after
him, and we find a
great devotion to
St. Anne spring-
ing up and being
maintained in the
French settle-
ments from that
time to this. Lo-
rettos and lady-
chapels were erect-
ed in all the colo-
nies, and the white
virgin feet took
possession of all
these shining clear

FATHER MARQUETTE IN MARBLE.

waters, as the
northern bounda-
ry of her new dowry in this virgin world of ours. Several
French explorers had visited Lake Superior and this very head
of the lake waters a little in advance of Marquette ; but the

1 89 5.] BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. 549

Jesuit followed hard upon their heels, and founded Sault Ste.
Marie and, in union with Father Dablon, consecrated land and
water to Our Lady, in 1660.

Twenty years passed and the four explorers and pioneers of
church and state, La Salle, Marquette, Hennepin, and Le Sueur,
pitched tents at Mille Lacs, within the present diocese of
Duluth.

Marquette went down the " Father of Waters " to its
source, and discovered a hundred tribes of natives along its
banks. Hennepin went north as far as the Falls of St.
Anthony, now Minneapolis. By a common inspiration they
named the noblest of streams by one of the sweetest attributes
of the Blessed Mother, her Immaculate Conception. The first
civilized name given to our longest midland water-way was a
title of the Mother of Jesus, by which Catholics invoke her
now, by order of a pope, in the litany.

It was John and Daniel Duluth, the first white men to
visit the Great Waters of the Ojibways, or Lake Superior, who
rescued Father Hennepin from the Sioux near the present
region of St. Paul and Minneapolis. They no doubt brought
him back over this very site of the city named after the heroes,
as I find is also expressly stated by an historical writer in a
late magazine.*

" Daniel Duluth and Father Louis Hennepin had met before
on the bloody fields of Seneffe, during the war of the great
Cond against William of Orange and his allies, the soldier fight-
ing the battles of Louis XIV. and the Recollect ministering to
the dying in his capacity as chaplain. Hennepin, indeed, had
imbibed his thirst for wandering and travel from his weary fol-
lowing on foot of the French corps through France and Flanders.
But none more restless than he in war or peace, and he found
in the wilds of the Lakes and upper Mississippi the widest
scope for his Wandering Jew propensity. He and Marquette
are indissolubly connected with all the explorations of the
French possessions finally sold by Napoleon I. to these United
States. Nowhere, perhaps, have Christian pluck and enterprise,
in the members of all denominations, more closely joined hands
than in this glorious North-west, proving the benefit of united
action in the civil domain."

The thriving cities which crown the heights and enliven the
valleys at the head of old Lake Tracy, or Superior, are to be
congratulated on their public spirit in providing for the educa-

* " A Chevalier of the Royal Guards," Harpers, August, 1893.

550 BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. [July,

tion and elevation of their inhabitants. The Sieurs Duluth,
French heroes and devout Christians, may well look down with
pride on the 60,000 Christian citizens who bear their name.
Alive to all material requirements, and beautifying their su-
perb suburbs with
parks and recrea-
tion resorts, they
have built per-
haps the finest
high-school build-
ing in the North-
western States.

..' Having stocked a

^m| large library in the

course of three
years, they are
about to enrich it
with a magnificent
list of all the works
printed on this
developing north-
western group of
commonwe a 1 1 h s,
and comprising
six or seven pages,
quarto, of type-writing.

The Fond-du-Lac cities here grouped have an advanced
sentiment of the beautiful in nature and art. A community
from what a close looker-on can see in less than a third of a
fortnight has flowered out in this erstwhile desert rocky slope
and the adjoining once thickly pine-wooded banks of the inter-
locked natural canals, whereinto flows the St. Louis or Knive
River on the west, and has advanced its conquests on the
wilds until there is scarcely a vestige left of the shores lately
fringed with green to the water's edge. Skill and taste have
locked hands with pluck and thrift to tear away remorsely in
the fronts the obstructions to buildings, and at the back, as
the long foreshortened view advances before you up the heights,
a grand natural park of hundreds of acres has been deftly
shaped to the unrugged lines.

Our carriage wound up and about, with surprising new views
at the several landings ; and a practical smooth mountain-pass
road, finally taking the next highest ledge for its bed, circles

SILVER CASCADE, PAINTED ROCKS.

1 895.] BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. 551

and wheels in devious course to the south. At the highest the
horizon broadens to the three points of the compass in front
the world of WATERS OF THE OjIBWAYS. Clear, but now only
dimly, sparkles the bay in the sun, now dipping to the hidden
west ; to the right, Superior and West Superior across the
crescent bar and the bays. West Duluth forms the right wing,
and the corresponding left wing completes a semblance of the
American eagle, spreading its pinions to encompass the fresh
waters and brood over the heights and plains of its own Amer-
ican eyrie.

Now gradually down the further slope the shoulder of the lake
shore hides the upper wing, and only Duluth proper shelves in-
clined to its water edge. The cities, linked over the arms of
the bays covered with craft, but not now shrouded in the
smoke of puffing trade and commerce, are thrown out in per-
fect distinctness against the twilighted east the magic after-
glow setting each object in just that photographic light most
exquisitely adapted for a faultless picture.

At eight P.M. all the day is done, and the moon, now rising
in slow majesty,
raises its pale-fired
forehead from the
scarcely distin-
guishable waters
of Superior. The
dim cities, wrap-
ped in half obscu-
rity, in a vast cres-
cent of beauty,
twinkle their elec-
tric eyes for a
score of 'miles
around the lake-
head. Anon the
fair round orb as-
cends and silvers
as it rises ; the
points and out-
lines become more
distinct the cool
temperature of 55 lightening the air and bracing the limbs,
until even the fatigue of an hour's stiff walk gives way to ex-
hilaration.

MlNNEWAWA, NEAR THE OLD FURNACE.

552 BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE OJIBWAYS. [July,

A fine and unusual sight even for tourists was the lighted
panorama of the terraced city as we slowed out of the docks
on the Jay Gould, Captain Joseph White commanding, Messrs.
Rorback and Prior respectively purser and steward. Though
the moon was rising, curious to say, within a quarter-hour of
its time last night, naught but the darkest Rembrandt shades
of the city buildings could be seen. A half-mile out, only
the starry electric lamps brightened the western horizon.
But whoso has seen the galaxies of the Milky Way, or the
more brilliant bands of constellations, through powerful tele-
scopes, alone can form even a slight idea of the magnifi-
cence of the illumination. It was as though the mighty arch-
angel of the spheres had loosened his jewelled baldrick and let
it float between the sea and the sky in its blue-bright brilliancy,
to delight the children of men. Long hours its changing lights
glistened behind us ; and not even the full-orbed moon, throw-
ing its dusky corona of misty splendor on the farther sea, and
sending to us a shimmering path of light, could distract us from
the enchantment of the farewell sight of hill-throned Duluth.

August 30 was St. Rose's day. Providence gave us the
privilege of saying Mass in our South American " blossom
of sanctity's " honor in a church of the Franciscan successors
of brave Marquette and bold Hennepin.

Lingering all day in these lumber-bepiled cities, the delay
was utilized by boarding a round-trip boat to the neighboring
Catholic historic region. "Here," said a Franciscan, Father
Casimir, " some five miles to the north of the present Ashland
was Father Marquette's actual first mission of Saint Esprit
and not, 'as tradition wishes and books print it, at the Pointe on
Madeline Island. It was the year succeeding the visit of the
two discoverers of the Mississippi, 1661. Though the mission
on the former Magdalen Island is very old probably dating
within a decade of the explorer's first coming to Lake Tracy,
or Superior. Still the above date is certified by a hand-drawn
map in the records of the Bayfield mission, ante-dating any
other written testimony.

Washburn across the bay, some six miles distant, is a brand-
new town, only seven or eight years old, on the very track
where Father Casimir used to walk to his mission by Indian
trail, thirty-two miles, not ten years ago. He had fifty stations
to attend in North Wisconsin and the islands called " The
Apostles," though their number exceeds twelve.

Bayfield is approached by rounding Houghton Point bordered

1 895.] BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. 553

more beautifully with rock and forests of pine growing down
to the shore than any other shore hereabouts. In fact, this bay
has a more beautiful name Chequamegon than appearance,
the shores, with this exception, being devoid of vegetation and
rocky scenery. A fourth of the 8,000 Bayfieldians are French

BISHOP BARAGA, FIRST BISHOP OF MARQUETTE.

Catholics ; other three-fourths Norwegians and Swedes. The
father's charge comprehends some 400 families of whites and 120
families of Chippewas. At Buffalo Point, six miles below, the
Indians are just obtaining their citizen's papers, with additional
80 acres apiece of land ; and are described as generally very

554 BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE Oj IB WAYS. [July,

faithful Catholics childlike and biddable, saying universally Our
Lady's rosary every day.

On Madeline Island a new frame church takes the place of
the old Jesuit foundation. After Marquette's time there was an
interval of about a hundred years when no priests attended
these parts, until the re-establishment of missions by Bishop
Baraga in 1835. The Protestant mission dates some three
years later, but is now practically abandoned no sheep and
no shepherds only old frame houses being left on the spot.
There are scarcely a dozen houses left with inhabitants on the
Pointe, where once the Indian nations used to assemble from
hundreds of miles around for their councils. Back of the Pointe
is an old, old graveyard, where the braves and their badly-
used partners lie buried. Nearer the newer buildings is the
modern common cemetery.

"To the south-east of Bayfield," added the father, "is the
great battle-ground of the Chippewas and Sioux, where they
fought out their tribal feuds, with the result of banishing the
fiery Sioux and settling their foes in the north and west of
Wisconsin."

" It does not look inviting to explore, with the fine forests
gone and no chiefs left to tell the bloody tale."

" Oh ! " he laughed, " my Indians can recount a tale as well
as the Bill Nyean Westerner. But 'tis a pity no one- thinks of
removing their empty hotels here from the cities plumb back
into the islands Presqii Isle, for example where there are
Indians, romantic scenery, splendid fishing, and no lack of
larger game."

"Yes," rejoined a Duluthian, "isn't there a larger specula-
tion than that ? A quarter-century ago there was practically
nothing on the twelve-hundred-mile coast of Superior, save a
few names on the American, and some Hudson Bay trading
posts on the British shores."

" Have we, indeed," I queried, " much more to-day ? "

" No, 'tis true. Coupling the twin and triple cities along
our seven hundred miles of coast from Duluth to Sault, we
count about five new settlements they may yet be called, with
an average population each of twenty thousand souls. What is
this for a frontage equivalent to a continent's, and that too
showing the greatest ore region known, probably, to mankind,
from the Roman tin-mines of Cornwall to the Mesaba range,
discovered but yesterday ? "

* The Mesaba, I believe, by running digging engines on top,

1 89 5.] BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. 555

promises to reduce iron ore from $2.00 per ton to but 60
cents."

" Just so ; and we can import coal in barges and holds from
Buffalo and Cleveland for 50 cents or 40 cents per ton. The
old Hudson Bay Company, I tell you, never knew or cared
about what could be coined out of these coasts. And they
were so greedily insular that, as Senator West said in Congress
the other day, you' could neither beg, buy, nor barter a single
skin from them without their running the risk of losing their
charter. Every hide was to go to England."

" Well, we shall teach them what an empire of wealth we
shall rear on Lake Superior in another score or two of
years ! "

On August 31 the weather is calm and clear; anon breezy
and gusty. How good it is to be out of civilization while the
whole country south is wilting with drouth and heat. Only on
the west of the Mississippi is reported some rain for a State or

FORT MACKINAC AND BAY.

two. But we can break that record. A fellow-traveller, who
has come from New Zealand via San Francisco, thence around
Puget Sound by way of the Canadian Pacific Railroad to Winni-
peg on his way to Chicago, adds his good 9,000 miles to my tour
of 2,000, and neither of us has seen rain by land or sea in over
11,000 miles !

Arrived at Hancock, this natural strait, eked out by short
government canal, at 9 A.M., we are two nights and the second

556 BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. [July,

day out, and have scarcely put 200 miles of our voyage behind
us. The said canal has evidently changed hands but lately, and
is in a sad, dilapidated state. It is, however, so calm a water-
way between the two most savagely boisterous arms of the
lake exposed outside it, to cover 200 miles' stretch of clear
passage for nor'-easters and nor'-westers, that it is used as a
life-saving station, where we lit upon the crews in their white
duck blouses and hose, just caulking their boats.

Above Hancock, and Houghton opposite, great copper ranges
rise, one would judge, some 1,200 or 1,500 feet. Climbing by
slow stages, and frequent halts to gaze back on the ever-more-
extended panoramic views up and down the lake-river, I dis-
covered dismantled mines and totally abandoned villages in the
tops of the hills. Descending some 25 feet into the mouth of
an old mine, what astonishment it was to find a large block of
ice, melted on edges but plainly in sight from above, where
coats were doffed at mid-day and the prevailing golden-rod
stood full in bloom. The low waters of Bay River, which
appear sandy-reddish from the hills, on descending to the banks
assume nearly a blood color a decided red keel hue. The
phenomenon is partly due to the sandy bottom, but principally
attributable to the draining of the copper mines by means of
long, narrow aqueducts into the bays.

How pleasant, a few hours later, to steam away from the
waters contaminated by man, in mines or log-booms, into the
clear green, restless bosoms of the Northern Lakes too vast
to be soiled.

At Ontonagon, some scores of miles south-west on the coast,
are probably the first copper mines discovered by the emissar-
ies of old France. Next in age are the Eagle Mines on the
peninsula north-east from the strait.

We sight Huron Island, the first beautiful rocky spot met
on the watery wilds the fairer indeed for its isolation. Huron
Island rises, in sheer rocky rounded shores, out of the clearest
green waters eyes ever gazed upon. The government light-
house dominates in the centre, an engine-building on the west
end, with dummy car-tracks descending amid the wooded sides
to the water level on either end. The little bay is garnished
on the east by an island annex, connected with the main isle
by a rustic bridge. You gaze down from the ship's guards
into the still green breast of liquid, and the rocky roots of the
island home keep their shelving course in sight, until you can
see, the captain assures, twenty-five feet below the surface so

1 89 5.] BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. 557

small a speck as a shining tin can. The eye is deceived in the
really six-mile long and two-mile wide points, thrown up from
doubtless one hundred fathoms of water. What an ideal spot
for summering alone with the wooded, rocky heights and shin-
ing seas !

On September i we arrived at 5 A.M. at the docks of Mar-
quette, where we had three hours' wait. I had the consolation
of saying a votive Mass of Our Lady at the fine cathedral
erected by the generosity of these northernmost inhabitants,

BISHOP VERTIN, OF MARQUETTE.

strengthening the hands of Bishop Vertin. The genial rector,
Father Langan, busy as he was, took time to be courteous to
a stranger coming only on the credentials of his face and possi-
ble knowledge of his publications.

Little is to be seen from the harbor beyond a picture of
the right arm of the slightly bluffy city of the great Jesuit dis-
coverer. Foliage and the shoulder of a hill hide the left arm

558 BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE O JIB WAYS. [July,

and main body of a town numbering some ten or twelve thou-
sand citizens.

There is talk, seemingly backed by the oral authority of a
professor of history in our foremost college and by some written
testimony of whom I had not chance to learn that the poet
Longfellow conceived and partly executed the writing of his
" Hiawatha" on or about the site of this deserted village.

Journeying along the shores where repose in majestic beauty
the cliffs called " Painted Rocks," from the resemblance of their
natural coloring and shading to artificial work, the strong poet
trod in the very footsteps of the native tribes scattered on beach
and lake, and roaming the mountainous vicinity. He foresaw
already the rapid retreat of the red man before the advance of
the pale face. His eye, the eye of a prophetic seer, read the
signs of dissolution in the tribes, and its sure, deadly work in
stamping out the nationality of the Indians and depriving them
of that virility which preserves a race even in the stress of
war with man and the elements. The children of the Ameri-
can forest, who had called all their own following the setting sun,
were disappearing from sight over the great green waters on the
North and the boundless green prairies on the West. He would
sing the swan song for the tongueless, extinguishing tribes, who,
though poets by nature, could formulate no farewell to their
homes and humanity which might reach their more favored fel-
lows and touch, mayhap, their mercenary certainly coolly indif-
ferent hearts.

The Canadian shore, which we first see distinctly outside the
mouth of Sault River, stretches off to the north-west until, by
mirage, the tongues of land reach up from the sea and look de-
tached in the air. Past the towns of Sault on both British and
American shores, guarded by old and new forts, the level plains
of conquered meadows lie flat on either hand.

There is no beauty in them distinct from the inseparable al-
lurement of the clear, fine air, and the shining water-courses
which join them. Steaming out into the broadening bosom of
smooth tracts of water, in the perfect light of this singularly
created gloaming, we view a scene that, I dare assert, rivals the
natural beauties of the bay of Naples, minus Vesuvius. It is cock-
sure that no such air blows over the palace heights there as
envelopes and identifies itself here with every object of sight.
'Tis only Mud Lake, the great obstacle in winter to navigation
on account of its remaining frozen across the path of trade,
that streams through these passes all the early spring, summer,

1 89 5.] BY THE GREAT WATERS OF THE OJIBWAYS. 559

and autumn. But its simple, joy-giving beauty overpasses the
stretch of imagination and defies description. The very wreaths
of smoke are transfigured ; shapes are smoothed to lines that
please ; nature sits here in her own plaisance, and man cannot
but communicate the movement of life to the deep, green wa-

THE RIVER SAULT STE. MARIE.

ters and wooded shores which erstwhile floated the canoe of
the aborigines.

I learn most of the farms and dwellings on either shore are
occupied by Indians and half-breeds, mingled with a few original
French, who, barring a little haying and primitive agriculture,
seem to eke out an existence by fishing.

Now, Sunday evening, we are passing by Mackinaw Island,
and down the continuation of the straits between the chain
of islands, Fox, Upper and Lower Manitou, until we reach the
straight stretch to Chicago.

560 THE CATHOLIC CHAMPLAIN, 1895. [July,

THE CATHOLIC CHAMPLAIN, 1895.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

UR Summer-School has arrived at that stage of
its existence when it may put forward some pre-
tensions on the score of antiquity. The stream
of life flows swiftly in these days. We live as
much in a decade now as the Old World used
in a thousand years. Four years of establishment as an educa-
tional institution (with a sort of Bohemian and al-fresco character
nevertheless) is a sufficient title to the reverence which belongs
of right to a recognized and old-established business concern.

The Summer-School, it was long ago apparent to all who
knew anything about it, had come to stay. But those who
could see a little way ahead besides, had no difficulty in per-
ceiving that so successful and promising an innovation was cer-
tain to arouse a spirit of emulation. It was inevitable, as
things go on this wide continent, that the lesson of success
would not be lost upon the shrewd minds of admiring on-look-
ers. It is the reverse of discouraging to find other Summer-
Schools starting up. The more the merrier. There is room for
all, work for all, intellect enough for as many as can be started.
The torch of knowledge is ablaze, and we hope to see it speed-
ing over the land like the fiery cross amongst the tartaned
clansmen when there was no telegraph wire to tell that all the
blue bonnets were over the border.

This idea of utilizing a holiday is a distinct mark and token
of the age. It is, moreover, an American characteristic a con-
crete embodiment of the spirit of this people. That intellectual
restlessness which seems as incapable of absolute repose as a
lake of quicksilver, forbade the idea of any number of people
wasting their time in mere holiday pleasure. From a high
medical point of view this apparent waste might after all be
the truest economy. But our lymphatic temperament forbids
the consideration of the matter from that stand-point. Our
gregariousness, our sociability too, precludes it. Our spirit of
inquiry, of advance, of conquest of the elusive but tangible and
perceptible, urges us on. It is found, moreover, that we can
enjoy a holiday all the more for having intellectual pleasures
added to those of travel and scenic opulence. They give

1 89 5.] THE CATHOLIC CHAMPLAIN, 1895. 561

zest and tone to what used to be but a social function of a
family character, usually ; sometimes a solitary pilgrimage.
They possess the additional attraction of widening the circle of
our acquaintance by very desirable additions, and welding the
intellectual forces of the country into an informal brotherhood
and sisterhood of knowledge a veritable Republic of Letters.

We have now about a hundred of these summer-schools
meeting annually throughout the United States. They consti-
tute the chief pleasure of a summer holiday. They are an
immense social force, as well as so many foci for the diffusion
of learning. They place the city in touch with the country,
they bring the higher learning of the university to the village
student, who otherwise must be entirely debarred from the at-
tainment of it. They are a splendid living illustration of the
noble principle of the brotherhood of man.

We shall probably have a plurality of Catholic Summer-
Schools in a very short time. The temperaments of West and
East, North and South demand a distribution of work and
separate recognition. Environment and local circumstance, and
the physical resources of the locality must ultimately determine
the lines on which specific education ought to proceed and
the centres whence its forces should radiate. The lines of
scientific investigation must follow the great natural features of
the soil, as it is to the development of the different resources
Nature has lavished on so many vast portions of this wide conti-
nent that the practical energies of the people must be incessantly
directed in the future. Our advance in arts and science will
be the measure of our conquests in the material world. The
problems of the future may be more perplexing, as the work of
material development proceeds. The social struggle may be
fierce, perhaps disastrous. It is only by bringing the light of
science to bear on it that we can hope for an intelligent solu-
tion ; only in invoking the spirit of the Catholic Church, which
is the spirit of charity, that we may disarm the forces marshalled
for mutual destruction.

Much has been gained since the first experimental session
of the Catholic Summer-School held at New London four years
ago. There the arrangement of lectures was more tentative
than of course. By the system adopted for the coming session
the mind will be better prepared for the assimilation of its pabu-
lum than it could have been at any of the preceding sessions.
Three distinct courses of lectures are mapped out for each week,
so that students may select that week or weeks of the session
VOL. LXI. 36

562 THE CATHOLIC CHAMPLAIN, 1895. [July,

which will be most advantageous to them in the particular lines
of study which they now happen to be pursuing. A glance
over the syllabus shows with what care these courses have been
arranged by the Board of Studies, and with how careful an eye to
the pockets of the students the arrangement of terms has been
made. Thus a student in some three branches of learning can
find all he wants in one particular week ; whilst another who
may be interested in three totally different subjects can find his
suitable term later on. This is a much better arrangement than
the old one under which students were compelled to wait for
perhaps the whole session in order to get the particular lectures
they wanted, as these were sandwiched in between other subjects
in which they had nothing more than an ordinary literary interest.

The interest which the great Leo XIII. takes in the Sum-
mer-School has already been manifested in the warm letter of
approval from his own hand which was published last year.
His Delegate, Monsignor Satolli, has shown that he shares this
interest to the full. In his own words, he regards the Catholic
Summer-School as one of the great works of the church in
America. He goes this year to Plattsburgh, to manifest by his
presence at the opening of the school that this interest is a liv-
ing sensation, not a mere sentiment. The American hierarchy
will also be strongly represented during the session. Among
those who will be present we find the names of the Archbishops
of New York and Philadelphia, the Bishops of Springfield and
Nashville. These dignitaries will preach during the session, and
other distinguished preachers will be Rev. Dr. Garrigan, Vice-
Rector of the Catholic University of America, and Very Rev.
Dr. Mooney, Vicar-General of New York ; Rev. Dr. Conaty,
President of the Summer-School ; Rev. Clarence E. Woodman,
Ph.D., of the Paulists, New York ; Rev. Father Whelan, of Ot-
tawa, Canada ; and Rev. Father Belford, of Brooklyn, N. Y.

Thus a threefold benefit awaits all those who have the good
fortune to be able to make this delightful pilgrimage to the
historic Champlain. Their religious life will be cheered by the
eloquence of the foremost pulpit orators of the day ; their thirst
for knowledge slaked by a healthy regimen ; and their enjoy-
ment of active physical life quickened and renovated by an
alternation of scenery and social companionship which not even
the most churlish could resist.

It is proper to note that, although the Summer-School pre-
fixes the name of Catholic, its advantages are open to all who
desire to avail themselves of them. Non-Catholics are cordially

i8 9 5-]

THE CATHOLIC CHAMPLAIN, 1895.

563

welcome there, and they may go with the full assurance that
they will hear no word to grate upon their feelings, but words
of the warmest charity and good-will to all earnest searchers
after the truth in things eternal and in things material.

Simultaneously with the opening of the school at Plattsburgh
the Summer-School of the West will begin its first session in
the City of Madison, Wis. This locality has been fixed upon
as most convenient for Western students. The city is beautifully
situated, and is a most convenient centre as regards facilities
for communication, accommodations, and so forth. There is, be-
sides the State University, the State Historical Library, wherein
a hundred and sixty-five thousand volumes of books are open
to the use of the public. The programme of lectures does not
follow the same lines as those of the Plattsburgh school, and it
is to be noted that it is more varied. Whether this is an ad-
vantage or not to the students remains to be practically de-
cided. The arrangements for the reception of visitors and rail-
way facilities follow closely the plan adopted by the senior
school managers. The Papal Delegate has signified his inten-
tion of participating in the proceedings of the Western school
as well as the other, and the hearty co-operation of Archbishop
Feehan, of Chicago ; Archbishop Elder, of Cincinnati ; Bishop
Maes, of Covington, Ky.; Bishop Messmer, of Wisconsin ; Bishop
Watterson, of Columbus, and other prelates has been given in
the promotion of the enterprise. The scenic attractions around
Wisconsin are not surpassed by any locality on the American
continent, and ample facilities for reaching every place of in-
terest are within reach of the visitors. A programme of social
reunions and public receptions on a very generous scale has
also been arranged by the local authorities.

It is plain that we are only at the beginning of a movement
which must in time assume national proportions. The impulse
already given to intellectual forces through its means gives pro-
mise of reproduction all along the line in Catholic though. We
live in the fierce light of an age of universal inquiry. The
spirit of these days takes the shape of a huge note of interroga-
tion. The search for truth is earnest amongst many of those
whose regards are fixed upon the Catholic revival. There can
be no more splendid ambition than to be prepared at all points
to answer a vital question whenever such is propounded, and
so give an overwhelming refutation to the moribund slander that
the church of our faith and our love is a narrowing and obscur-
antist Alma Mater.

In Juliette Irving and the Jesuit * we have an
example of that species of novel whose motive
baffles all human comprehension. It is the story of
a Presbyterian young lady who fell in love with a
Jesuit priest, and having discovered that this was a
sinful and silly thing to do returned to her senses, repented,
became a Catholic, and married a young gentleman who had
been in love with her but for whom she entertained no affection
while her folly lasted. The details of this wild romance are
accompanied by other inconsistent events in the world of reli-
gion and matrimony, related in the longest sentences we have
ever endeavored to wind through, and a style somewhat like
that of The Scottish Chiefs.

Christian Marriage f is the first title of an excellent little
brochure, whose size and price make it an easily procurable
guide on a subject which, though trite, is ever crying out for
the earnest consideration of all. To the Catholic reader the
arguments for religious marriage are so self-evident that the
author, the Rev. Father Smith, wastes no more time on this
part of his subject than is absolutely necessary by way of
introduction. The greater portion of the booklet is devoted to
the all-important question of mixed marriages, and we would
earnestly commend its wise and warning counsels to all those
Catholics who feel themselves interested, directly or indirectly,
in the discussion of this subject.

A little volume by Miss Katherine E. Conway, under the
modest title A Lady and her Letters, might be described as an
essay on good taste and discretion more than a hand-book of
etiquette on the all-important matter of correspondence. If the
tongue is usually an unruly member, a far more unmanageable
and dangerous one is the pen in the hands of the ingenu-

* Juliette Irving and the Jesuit. By T. Robinson Warren. New Brunswick, N. J. :
J. Heidingsfeld.

f Marriage. By Rev. J. C. Smith, O.M.I., Rector of St. Mary's Church, San Antonio,
Texas. John Schott, printer.

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 565

ous and unsuspecting young lady fresh from school. To all
such Miss Conway conveys much sound advice, tendered in a
delicate and sympathetic way. There are very many otherwise
excellent and orderly-minded girls who find it hard to fall into
a system in the matter of their correspondence what to keep
and how to keep it, what to answer and what to ignore. The
book is a new treatise, in fact, " On the Polite Art of Letter-
writing," but one of a widely different and far more practical
character than its artificial prototype. But the sage and kindly
advice it tenders is not restricted to the bare subject of keep-
ing or fashioning the correspondence of a young lady. It
embraces incidentally many a side issue in which good breeding
and moral culture are involved. The lines of conduct and
modes of thought which it outlines are such as cannot fail to
be of lasting benefit to all those who lay them seriously to
heart and are influenced by them in their actions.*

Amongst the stories of heroism in " lost causes " few can
surpass those of many of the men who made the last stand for
the Papacy in the memorable events which culminated in the
seizure of the Pope's dominions by the Sardinian troops. Many
a noble life was offered, in that unequal conflict, in defence
of the oldest throne in Christendom, and if the purest loyalty
and most chivalric bravery could save a cause from disaster,
perfidy would never have gained the day before the walls of
Rome. In the ranks of the Papal Zouaves were as brave young
fellows as ever rode beside Roland in the Pyrennean passes.
Enthusiastic Irishmen, Frenchmen, Belgians, and English took
part in the final struggle. A memoir of one of these gallant
Catholics, an English lad named Giulio Watts-Russell, f was
honored by a brief letter of commendation by the late Cardinal
Manning, and his note now appears in the front of the little
book. The cardinal says of the work that it is " touching and
beautiful," a description so complete and just that nothing more
need be said to commend it to Catholic readers. The author
of the memoir was the late Most Rev. Valerian Cardella, S.J.,
consultor of the Propaganda ; and it has been translated by
Monsignor W. Tyler, M.A. It is evident from what is here set
down authoritatively that young Watts-Russell was not only a
brave lad but one of extraordinary piety as well. He fell at
the battle of Mentana, and he had a singular premonition of
his death. But with the certainty that he was to meet it there

* A Lady and her Letters. By Katharine E. Conway. Boston, Mass. : The Pilot Company.
f Giulio Watts- Russell, Papal Zouave. By the late Most Rev. Valerian Cardella, S.J.
London : Art and Book Company ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

566 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

he cheerfully went to his martyrdom, glad to be able to seal
with his life-blood his devotion to the Holy See. Surely the
cause that can produce such heroes can never be lost. It may
be eclipsed for the time, but it must shine forth again more
gloriously than ever.

The fact that a book which is not a medico-erotic or out-
rageously fantastic novel, but a solid historical work, has
reached an eleventh edition is strong presumptive evidence that
it is a good book. Such is the case with regard to the valuable
work on The Jewish Race* by A. Rendu, LL.D. It shows that
it has been very largely accepted by students as a text-book,
and we do not wonder that such should be the case. It is one
of the most comprehensive and panoramic reviews of the old
world and modern civilization, approaching closely in its scope
that magnum opus of historical surveys, Gibbon's Roman Empire.
To the student of universal history such a work must be a
boon, because of its orderly arrangement, its freedom from
verbiage, and its succinct presentation of all the salient facts.
It is not of the history of the Jewish race merely that the
work treats ; all the nations of the old world with which the
scattered race had any dealings in the course of their checkered
wanderings are sketched with bold and rapid touch. The liter-
ary style of the work is excellent. One of rfs advantages to
students is the copious index which is found at the end of the
volume.

The timely appearance of a new life of St. Anthony of
Padua, from the pen of the Rev. Father Ubaldus da Rieti,
O.S.F., will be welcomed in this country, where the fame of
that illustrious son of St. Francis is daily growing into a deep
and reverent devotion. This biography of Father da Rieti's
ought to meet the general desire for a popular biography of
St. Anthony, for most of those already written are not only out
of print, but are rather unsuitable, from their length, their
style, and other reasons. This biography is of the simple
order. It gives all the facts of the saint's life and his extraor-
dinary career as a preacher with an almost entire absence of
flourish or moral reflection. The record is a truly marvellous
one. That Anthony was a preacher of the most irresistible
kind is a fact attested by many a wonderful conversion.
More than any other of the saintly preachers of the missionary

* The Jewish Race in Ancient and Modern History. From the eleventh revised edition of
A. Rendu, LL.D. Translated by Theresa Cook. London : Burns & Gates ; New York :
Benziger Brothers.

I895-]

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

567

orders, perhaps, he possessed the rare power of overcoming
obstinate heretics, and what is more, making their conversions
lasting and sincere. He was a fearless denouncer of the civil
tyrants of his day, as he abundantly testified by his demeanor
before Ezzelino da Romano, the tyrant of the district afterwards
called the Quadrilateral. The manifold atrocities which this
powerful ruffian had perpetrated roused Anthony to " beard the
lion in his den." He went to Verona, where he had his strong-
hold, sought him out in the midst of his armed minions, and
boldly denounced his conduct. Instead of ordering his execu-
tion, as his followers thought he immediately would, the tyrant
was cowed and humbly sought forgiveness. This incident has
been well compared to the humbling of Attila, the ferocious
leader of the Huns, by the great Pope St. Leo, inasmuch as
the two tyrants bore a strong resemblance to each other in
their tiger-like and unappeasable lust of blood and plunder.
That many other evil and blood-stained men were brought to
renounce their criminal career through the marvellous eloquence
of St. Anthony there is the most irrefragable proof. A host of
miracles proved to have been wrought through his instrumen-
tality are related in this book, and the public manner in which
many of them were effected rendered the task of formally prov-
ing them remarkably easy. Hence his canonization took place in
a very short time after his death. At his shrine in the cathedral
of Padua, for long after his decease, many surprising miracles
took place, and still take place intermittently there.

Father Rieti's book has been printed at the Angel Guardian
Press, in Boston, and its typography is creditable to that insti-
tution. The work* is embellished with a copy of the fresco por-
trait of St. Anthony in the palace della Genga, and which was
executed during his lifetime and certified to be a true likeness.

The past politics of this country, especially politics since the
Revolution, must have a living interest for all who read and
take a citizen's part in its active life. An excellent little
book for the study of political fluctuations and the genesis of
our present political conditions is one recently published from
the pen of Noah Brooks. f It is luminous and at the same time
compact, whilst its tone is moderate and purely historical. The
work is furnished with some nicely executed portraits of de-
parted American worthies.

* Life of St. Anthony of Padua. By Rev. Father Ubaldus da Rieti, O.S.F. Boston:
Angel Guardian Press.

f A Short Study in Party Politics. By Noah Brooks. New York : Charles Scribner's
Sons.

568 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

The disputant who proves too much is not a desirable one
for the success of any argument. Such is the case with regard
to one John S. Hittel, who from San Francisco undertakes to
enlighten the world as to the spirit of the Papacy.* His book
is a concatenation of half-truths most clumsily linked in with
falsehoods which are patent to everybody. We have no trouble
in culling them they spring up thistle-headed on every page.
Here is a good specimen plumper :

"From uoo to 1500 the Papacy, which then enjoyed its
golden age, was the predominant power in western Europe.
. . . It possessed most of the learning and books, and men
who had leisure for study. It had thirty thousand monks in
fifteen thousand monasteries " just two monks to each monas-
tery ! " and a score of different monastic orders ; and among
these not one devoted* to the cause of popular education."

Mr. Hittel boldly gives the lie to every reputable English
writer Macaulay, Green, Mill, Thorold Rogers, and many others.
These authorities were no friends of the Papacy, but they did
not care to incur the reproach of besotted ignorance or reckless
mendacity or imbecile folly. They testify that in England and
Scotland the church had a free school in every parish for the
use of the people. Over the greater part of the European con-
tinent the same condition of affairs prevailed. Very interesting
historical memoranda on this head are furnished periodically to
the American public by the Commissioner of Education. People
who desire to know the truth would prefer this authority to
that of J. S. Hittel. These reports have a permanent place in
every public library, whilst J. S. Hittel's stupid stuff has no
destination but the chandler's shop.

St. Anne of Isle La Motte is the name of a well-stocked
but handy little compendium of literature and devotional exer-
cises connected with the veneration of St. Anne, the mother of
our Blessed Lady. It deals especially with the establishment
of the confraternity of St. Anne at Isle La Motte, on Lake
Champlain, and gives much interesting historical data in con-
nection with the locality, as well as with other shrines of St.
Anne in different parts of the world. The author is the Rev.
J. Kerlidon, of Alburgh, Vermont, and the manual is published
at the office of the Burlington " Free Press " Association.

Through the kindness of the Rev. P. Pajet, Superior of the
Missionaries of La Salette, Hartford, Conn., we have received a
copy of a new edition of the work of the Abb Bertrand on

* The Spirit of the Papacy. By J. S. Hittel. San Francisco : J. S. Hittel.

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 569

the apparitions of La Salette. This work is published in Paris
by Blond & Barral, at 4 Rue Madame and 59 Rue de Rennes.
It gives an exhaustive and careful report of the whole proceed-
ings connected with the apparitions at La Salette, and is
embellished with many excellent wood-cuts of the principal
personages, places, and events mentioned in the course of the
wonderful narrative. The narratives of the two children, Maxi-
min and MeUanie, regarding their conversations with the appari-
tion of Our Lady, which are set forth as they were taken down
with great circumstantiality, must ever be read with the most
profound interest, inasmuch as, next to the story of Jeanne
Dare, it appears to be the most explicit manifestation of the
supernatural on record since the Middle Ages.

D. C. Heath & Co., of Boston, publish a treatise entitled
Four Years of Novel Reading, by the Professor of English Litera-
ture at Chicago University. From this it may be learned that
the systematic reading of fiction is now regarded as a branch
of the sciences. Professor Moulton appears to lay much value
on it as such, as he wishes to introduce a plan which has been
found to work well in the mining districts of England. The plan,
shortly stated, is to let all the members of a reading union get
the one novel to read, with a direction of points to be noted
by some professional literary authority, and then hold meetings
and debate these points when the reading is done. The ex-
perience of the Backworth Reading Union is set forth Back-
worth being a village in Northumberland in England. The re-
sults noted do not afford any reliable data for coming to con-
clusions, but this much may be said of the plan : If it be not
the best thing in the world to ask practical men to spend their
time reading novels, it is good for those who are inclined to in-
dulge in this form of mental dissipation to endeavor to place
the best and cleanest novels that can be got before them and
keep out the trashy and pernicious ; and this appears to be the
course and aim of the Novel-Reading Union. But it is question-
able whether the ends of education, or even amusement, might
not be better served by substituting other forms of literature
for even the most unobjectionable novels. There are master-
pieces of literature in history and biography and travel, and
other fields of useful knowledge, that are far more fascinating
than any work of the imagination. To such minds as those of
practical and usually phlegmatic toilers like the English, this
field of literature ought certainly to be more acceptable than
the modern novel, or any other novel for that matter.

5/o NEW BOOKS. [July,

NEW BOOKS.

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, New York :

The Plated City. By Bliss Perry.
B. HERDER, St. Louis, Mo.:

The Venerable Mother Frances Schervier. By Very Rev. Ignatius Jeiler,
O.S.F., D.D. Translated by Rev. Bonaventure Hammer, O.S.F.

LONGMANS, GREEN & Co., New York :

An Historical Survey of Pre-Christian Education. By S. S. Laurie, A.M.,
LL.D. England's Responsibility towards Armenia. By the Rev. Malcolm
M'Coll, M.A. A Memoir of Mother Francis Raphael, O.S.D. Edited by
Rev. Father Bertrand Wilberforce, O.P.

OFFICE OF THE " AVE MARIA," Notre Dame, Ind.:

A Short Cut to the True Church ; or, The Fact and the Word. By the Rev.
Edmund Hill, C.P.

A. WALDTEUFEL, San Francisco :

Andachtsbiichlein zu Ehren des hi. Antonius von Padua. Von P. Clemen-
tinus Denmann, O.S.F.

WILLIAM I. COMSTOCK, New York:

Churches and Chapels. By F. E. Kidder, C.E., Ph.D. With Fifty-two illus-
trations.

CASSELL PUBLISHING Co., New York :

Witness to the Deed. By George Manville Fenn. Is She not a Woman ?
By Daniel Dane. The Wee Widow's Cruise in Quiet Waters. By An
Idle Exile.

H. L. KlLNER & Co., Philadelphia :

Little Comrades : A First-Communion Story. By Mary T. Waggaman.

FR. PUSTET & Co., New York and Cincinnati :

Revealed Religion. By Franz Hettinger, D.D. Edited, with an Introduction,
by Henry Sebastian Bowden, of the Oratory.

BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

Elements of Religious Life. By Father Humphrey, S.J. Divine Love and
the Love of God's Most Blessed Mother. By Right Rev. F. J. Weld, Pro-
tonotary Apostolic. History of the Popes from the close of the Middle
Ages. By Dr. Ludwig Pastor. Edited by Frederick Ignatius Antrobus, of
the Oratory. Vols. III. and IV. Charily is the Greatest Created Gift of
God to Man. By the Very Rev. J. A. Maltus, of the Order of Teachers.
Child's Prayer- Book of the Sacred Heart. Illustrated. New Speller and
Word Book. On the Road to Rome, and how Two Brothers got there.
By William Richards. Outlines of Dogmatic Theology. By Sylvester J.
Hunter, S.J. Vol. i. St. Chantal and the Foundation of the Visitation.
By Monsignor Bougand. Translated from the French ; with a Preface by
Cardinal Gibbons. 2 vols.

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

Home Geography for Primary Grades. By C. C. Long, Ph.D.

BUFFALO HISTORICAL SOCIETY :

Annual Report of the Board of Managers.

SILVER, BURDETT & Co., Boston, New York, Chicago, Philadelphia:

Foundation Studies in Literature. By Margaret S. Mooney, State Normal
College, Albany, New York.

WEED-PARSONS PRINTING COMPANY, Albany:

Practical Lessons in Algebra. By Josiah H. Gilbert, Ph.D., and Ellen Sul-
livan, High School, Albany.

1 89 5.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 571

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

CHURCH WORK IN ENGLAND THE SOCIAL QUES-
TION.

(General William Booth, Founder of the Salvation Army, in the Homiletic

Review.}

IN regard to the social question, it may be said that a spirit of discontent has
existed among the poorer classes in England about as far back as I can remem-
ber. This spirit has been steadily growing, and it is now in a transition state.
The great army of the discontented is travelling toward the goal of organization.
When this vast body becomes thoroughly organized, under able leaders, I can only
prophesy that unless society does something to satisfy the demands of these peo-
ple, there will be such an upheaval as the world has seldom seen. It is singular
how quiet the great mass of people are in view of the present social condition and
the demands of the poorer classes. The mass of people in all countries have not
only become aware of the fact that they have wrongs which require redressing,
but they are determined to have them redressed. It will be a sad day for the
peace of society unless the various governments institute legislation which shall
ameliorate the condition of this class of people. But the great mass of citizens
seem to have no gift of foresight ; they seem to be living in a fool's paradise. In
nearly every land they have put the power of governing in the hands of the people.
It only remains for the people to learn how to use it.

It is to be feared that the right, or privilege, of univeral suffrage will land
them so far ahead toward the accomplishment of their wishes that, when their
natural rights have been attained by this method, after that will come the Deluge.
They will get beyond the voting stage, and they will come to use force. While
they stick to votes not very much harm will come. The mere placing of a social
democrat at the top will not matter so much ; but when you come to put the aris-
tocrat, the refined and wealthy republican, at the bottom, that will be a very un-
pleasant change for society. Still, as long as you stuck to votes, that would not
mean the destruction of society. The trouble is that in all such movements in the
past, as I read history, they have gone beyond that. If they had done nothing but
vote in the French Revolution, it would probably have soon come to an end, and
without any Reign of Terror.

The cause of the social trouble is poverty. As I have said elsewhere : " Here
is John Jones, a stout, stalwart laborer in rags, who has not had one square meal
for a month, who has been hunting for work that-will enable him to keep body
and soul together, and hunting in vain. There he is -in his hungry ruggedness,
asking for work that he may live, and not die of sheer starvation in the midst of
the wealthiest city in the world. What is to be done with John Jones ? " Society,
by its peculiar methods, is breeding the submerged classes, the destructive classes.
You put Jones in prison if he steals a loaf of bread, but he had no notion of com-
mitting the deed until his necessities forced him to it. While he is in need of
something to eat he sees men about him living in ease and luxury. The condi-
tions to which I have just alluded are very much stronger in foreign countries than

572 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [July,

they are in the United States. The conditions of working and living are far better
in America than they are in England and on the Continent.

If the rich did their full duty to the poor, they would not be so rich, and Jones
would not be so poor. The rich would give away more of their wealth. A man
should make all the money he can honestly, and save all he can with due regard
to the necessities of others. He should give away all that he can to those who
have not been favored as he has been.

UNIVERSITY DEGREES FOR WOMEN.

(An Oxford B. A. in the Fortnightly Review.)

As a mere man, who has taken an Oxford degree, and has never found it of
the slightest possible use, perhaps I may be permitted to say that the anxiety of
ladies to be allowed to present a university with *] ios., in exchange for a couple
of letters, has frequently occasioned me some surprise. The plain fact about the
B.A. degree is that it means very little. Indeed, it is a very misleading thing,
because it is equally open to mere " passman " and to the most brilliant scholar
of his year, and puts them both on the same level. If you want to know what a
man has done at Oxford, you think nothing of the B.A. degree and everything of
the class he has taken, which would be the same whether he took his degree or
not. It is the fashion to take one's degree ; and the fashion is so strong that
schoolmasters are practically obliged to do so ; but for ten men out of every
dozen who pay the extra fees to the university the degree is quite useless in after-
life, and in England we never think of putting it after our names, except occasion-
ally on the title-page of a book, if we write one. However, there is another side
to this question. If " going to the 'Varsity " ever became as common an incident
in the lives of well-to-do young women as it is in those of young men if, say, as
many lady students as men went into residence annually at Oxford or Cambridge,
this aspect of the degree its uselessness might prevent its being sought by a
large proportion of the ladies.

If properly qualified Englishwomen need university degrees, they will have
them. In point of fact, they can get them practically everywhere but at Oxford,
Cambridge, and Dublin ; and the refusal there is unjust, unpatriotic, financially
foolish, and educationally mischievous. Common-sense must at length prevail ;
and it will not prevail the less soon because most people will rightly think that the
women who will want degrees are on the whole a limited and exceptional class.
There is an unconsciously amusing touch in some of the sentences in an open
letter recently sent by an American lady at Gottingen to the Collegiate Alumnae of
America, describing what has been done in Gottingen and what the pioneers of
that movement hope for its future. " It is plainly understood," she writes in per-
fect seriousness, " that no woman student is desired who is not well prepared and
has not a definite aim and motive in her study ; no one is desired who comes out
of curiosity or mere amusement. If this year instead of fifteen women there had
come one hundred, we would have had cause to tremble for the outcome of the
experiment ; the mass would have been too large and too heterogeneous. It
would be deplorable for it to become within a few years the mode, the fad, for
American women-students to study at Gottingen University ; the university would
not desire it ; it would overtax the present limit of its hospitality ; it would thwart
the success of the experiment and the purpose of the cause."

i895-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNIOK. 573

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

MEMBERS of Reading Circles who may not be able to attend the opening ex-
ercises, on July 6, of the Catholic Summer-School on Lake Champlain
should bear in mind that the session will continue for six weeks, till August 19,
and that each week has distinct attractions. Apart from the lectures there are
many advantages to be gained from the opportunities of meeting the leading work-
ers of the Reading Circle movement. Some from circles already firmly established
can tell how the obstacles which arose at the start were overcome ; others from
circles yet struggling can find solutions for various questions, and encouragement
to persevere. Those who are anxious to organize, but may not know how to be-
gin, will receive the necessary information. All will be sharers in the enthusiasm
which such a meeting will develop, and will return to their homes with renewed
energy to continue the work of self-improvement.

Ample accommodations for lodging and boarding have been provided in the
village of Plattsburgh. The Local Committee have prepared a list of all the pri-
vate families who are willing to receive Summer-School students as guests, and
are prepared to give all information regarding location and rates. Board and
lodging may be secured in private families at rates varying from $5 per week up
to $1.50 per day. All communications will be regarded as confidential. Appli-
cants should state as accurately as possible what rates they wish to pay, when
they wish to occupy their quarters, for how long a time, and how many will be
in their party. Accurate information will at once be forwarded on request, to-
gether with a map of Plattsburgh, showing location of house. Applications may
be sent at once to R. E. Healey, Secretary of Local Committee, Plattsburgh on
Lake Champlain, N. Y. For those in the West who desire information about
the Columbian Summer-School, which will hold its first session at Madison, Wis.,
beginning July 14, applications should be sent to Edward McLaughlin, M.D.,
Fond du Lac, Wis.

The studies at Madison and Champlain are intended for all minds sincerely
seeking for sound information. Non-Catholics are cordially invited to attend.
Catholics should be eager to promote by their presence and support a wider diffu-
sion of the truth under the guidance of the church.

* * *

The Most Rev. John J. Kain, D.D., Archbishop of St. Louis, has recognized
the need of having a more vigorous expression of opinion from Christian people
of all denominations to > prevent the spread of debasing literature. In a recent in-
terview he spoke as follows :

" One of the crying evils of the day is the bad book that poisons the minds of
the young. The presses to-day are teeming with literature that keeps within the
bounds of decency as prescribed by law, but the circulation of books of this char-
acter is nothing less than a crime. As the law now stands their circulation cannot
be prevented. While this is a land of freedom, yet license prevails to a large ex-
tent, and still when one talks of establishing a censor'ship over the press he is
treading on treacherous ground. But it appears to me that regulations more
strict than those now in vogue could be established by law whereby the civil au-
thorities could be given the power to prevent the sale of a large number of books
which all right-minded persons class as dangerous and debasing. Some means
should be evoked to stop the spread of this immoral literature.

574 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [July,

" In this respect I can say that I think the Catholic idea of educating the
young is the best. I mean by the Catholic idea, that the youth in our church have
the benefits of daily religious education along with the secular. They know that
they are to worship God not only one day in the week, but every day. The ten-
dency toward secularism seems to be growing stronger in regard to public educa-
tion in this country, and if not checked the ultimate results will be fearful to con-
template. The Catholic Church is fighting bravely against this growing tendency
to secularism, because there is only a small stepping-stone from secularism to
scepticism. If the minds of the young are to be kept pure and holy, they must
not only be given wholesome literature to read during leisure hours, but they must
have religious training daily along with their secular education."

Archbishop Kain especially condemned the cheap novels that incite the young
mind by presenting lurid pictures of criminal life. In his address recently before
the Sunset Club, at Chicago, Bishop Spalding mentioned two books destructive of
faith and of the best culture, Innocents Abroad and Peck's Bad Boy. It is a mis-
fortune that the author of the most vulgar specimen of juvenile literature should

be allowed to hold a high office.

* * *

Under the auspices of the Catholic Young Ladies' Literary Association of
Toronto a very notable gathering assembled at Massey Hall June 5. Among
those present were the Governor-General of Canada, the Honorable T. W. Anglin,
Lady Thompson, Sir Frank and Lady Smith, Thomas Long, Hugh Ryan, J. J.
Foy, Q.C., Vicar-General McCann, B. Hughes, Eugene O'Keefe, Mrs. W.
Kavanagh, Miss Annie Lane, and the officers of the Literary Association. Arch-
bishop Walsh presided, and in terms of highest praise introduced Lady Aberdeen,
who delivered a remarkable lecture on " The Present Irish Literary Revival." She
wore real Limerick lace, with the rose, the thistle, and the shamrock worked into
a pattern with ivy, the badge of the Gordons.

A lecture by a countess is a startling novelty even for some advanced thinkers.
That it was most excellent in choice of matter and style of treatment may be
seen from the passages here quoted :

" I make no apology for the subject which I have chosen for the address
which you have done me the honor to ask me to deliver under the auspices of your
society to-night, and I wish at the outset to relieve any apprehensions as to any
even distant allusions to controversial matters, whether religious or political.
Happily this is a subject round which all lovers of their country can meet, how-
ever much divided they may be in their opinions, and it is a subject which has
special claim on many of us here who can claim connection either by birth or by
parentage with that green isle whose royal and magic sway over her children even
to a remote generation only once more proves that the greatest thing in the world
is love.

" But even outside that charmed circle are there not many who in their heart
of hearts feel a thrill of tenderness for those ,old, far-away times of heroic deeds
chronicled for us by the wandering bards who upheld amongst those wild warrior
tribes the ideals of justice and honor and purity and love so well that a prepared
and fruitful soil was found by the great apostle for his divine message which was
to make Ireland the Isle of Saints, and which would enable her to win truer
laurels than those to be gained in warfare, in the fields of learning and art and
music and architecture and missionary labors ? The estimation in which music
and literature and art were held, and the justice and mercy which distinguished
the laws, should be a source of veritable pride to all who can boast of Celtic blood ;
and the instinct for constitutional government ruling through the will of the people

1 89 5.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 575

expressed at these tribal and national gatherings, which were so central a feature
in the life of the times, is one which may well claim the attention and admiration
of the present generation, who are sometimes tempted to believe that to them
belongs the discovery of political freedom. There could be little scope for tyranny
where it was a deep-seated custom that no action could be taken by family or
tribe or people without an assembly. When the Fianna or Irish militia of the
third century were established by the great King Cormac there were various con-
ditions necessary to be observed by candidates desiring to join it, showing intel-
lectual gift as well as military skill ; but the two first injunctions which were laid
upon every soldier was: i. Never to seek a portion with a wife, but to choose
her for good manners and virtue ; 2. never to offer violence to a woman.

" It must be remembered that the bards who are so prominent in these
assemblies were recognized as being practically the schoolmasters and historians
of the nation, as well as its poets. They could only attain the dignity of their
position by years of hard study, and there were seven different degrees amongst
them, each of which had to be reached by means corresponding to the modern
examination. They travelled about the country from north to south, followed by
their pupils, and everywhere they were received with honor and suitably enter-
tained, whilst in return they would sing or relate the stories of love and heroism
which were so dear to the hearts of their hearers, the reciting of which in all parts
of the country made the different tribes to know about one another, to value one
another's powers, and in some degree to realize the whole nation. The fact that
there was so much love for literature prevailing in the land, that there were a con-
siderable number of these bards, that they met from time to time to compete with
one another and to confer as to the correctness of the tales, many of which they
mutually told, all tend to make us believe that the chronicles which were thus
handed down from mouth to mouth, and finally gathered together and written
down, contain much that is true, and represent in a very real way the life and
character of the early Irish."

After a passing tribute to many of the great names in Irish literature, Lady
Aberdeen thus described the present Irish literary revival : " Fifty years ago a
company of young men banded themselves together to remedy this, and were busy
digging up the buried relics of history, to enlighten the present by a knowledge of
the past. But the famine of 1847-48 came, and its results brought the attempt to
an end for the time. But within the last few years a revival has grown up which
bids fair to endure. Irish literary societies have been springing up everywhere,
Dublin taking the lead in 1888, as was her right. The Irish Literary Society in
London has been organized under the presidency of Sir Charles Duffy, who had
been one of the chief workers of the earlier movement fifty years ago, and is com-
posed of members of all politics and all religions, there being but one object the
fostering of Irish literature, both ancient and modern. Commodious rooms have
now been established in London for the use of the members, a library begun, and
most interesting monthly lectures delivered. A magazine called the New Ireland
Review, ably edited by Father Finlay of Dublin, points out in the current number
how many distinctly Irish volumes have been issued during the last two years out-
side the New Irish Library, and many of these are books which have claimed wide
attention outside Ireland, although the subject-matter is Ireland. Mr. Rolleston
asks what is meant by Irish literature, and he answers this by saying that it is
literature written by Irishmen under Irish influences, whether these influences be
of the past or of the present, and that all this stir about Irish literature means that
the Irish imagination is endeavoring to do what is always the highest function of

576 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [July, 1895.

the imagination to do, namely, to idealize and ennoble what is near and familiar
to it, idealizing those old stories of by-gone times, idealizing the scenes of every-
day life in Ireland by giving them historical associations. Those exquisite Irish
idylls of Miss Jane Barlow, bringing out the pathetic beauty, the patient courage
and devotion of the Irish peasantry, the fascinating though tragic story of Crania,
by Miss Lawless, not to speak of her Hurrish and Maelcho, and the delightful
sketches of Irish character in Mrs. Tynan Hinkson's Cluster of Nuts, are all books
which should be in the hands of every Irishman and Irishwoman, though I would
fain see them also in the hands of every other English-speaking man and woman.
They can only make us love Ireland better and make us wish to work for its wel-
fare in some way or another.

" I must not, however, be tempted to quote more from our modern Irish wri-
ters, but merely tell you of one result of the present Irish literary revival which
may be of use to you personally. Reading Circles have been formed, with a view
of promoting and directing the reading of those who wish to study Irish history
and Irish literature consecutively. Lists of books have been made out for certain
periods, and a little magazine published for the help of the readers. Those at the
head undertake that no over-controversial books shall be introduced, and that the
politics of none need be offended. It might be of interest to your society to in-
quire into the course of reading recommended, or you at least could recommend
lists of the best Irish books to be easily obtained.

" You, young ladies of the Catholic Young Ladies' Literary Society, are doing
a noble work in fostering this love of reading and study. Those who have never
formed this habit in youth little know the riches they lose by its neglect ; and, if
this love is to be of the highest use to us, it must be trained and directed. We
have reason to fear that there are many young people in our time who only use
their education for the purpose of devouring the worse than empty literature with
which all countries are flooded, and which can do nothing but deteriorate. If you
can meet the young girls leaving school and encourage them in habits of self-cul-
ture, of disciplined reading, you will not only be benefiting their own lives and con-
ferring on them a source of truest happiness and blessing, but you will be blessing
the homes of the future by cultivating and developing the thought, intelligence of
our future wives and mothers."

We commend this excellent advice from Lady Aberdeen about reading to all
the graduates from Catholic academies. The managers of Reading Circles would
do well in arranging for future work to include some of the numerous books repre-
senting Irish genius in literature.

* * *

A very large, cultured, and thoroughly representative audience gathered in
the music hall of the Rideau Street Academy of the Grey Nuns at Ottawa to hear
Mr. John Francis Waters give the concluding lecture of the series he has delivered
during the past season at the institution. Among those present were the Hon.
J. J. Curran, Mr. Sandford Fleming, C.M.G., Mr. Consul-General Riley, Rev. J. J.
Bogert, Mr. Shannon of Kingston, and many prominent citizens, both French and
English. The lecturer's theme was " Charlotte Bronte," and Mr. Curran, in ten-
dering Mr. Waters the cordial thanks of the audience, characterized his mastery of
the subject as perfect and his treatment of it as superb. The lecturer dealt with
the character of the author of Jane Eyre, of Shirley, of Vzllette and The Pro-
fessor in such a way as to emphasize the virtues of patience, resignation, fortitude,
self-denial, self-sacrifice, and unconquerable energy of which no life affords a more
noble example than does the life of Charlotte Bronte. M. C. M.

Ontario

SHE SHONE AMID THE HARVEST FIEU),
AS FAIR A FI<OW'R AS EVER GREW."

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXI. AUGUST, 1895. No. 365.

THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE.

BY REV. J. M. CLEARY.

, EADERS of THE CATHOLIC WORLD have been
delighted, edified, and encouraged by the unique
reports given by Father Elliott of the excellent
work in his missionary tour through the State
of Michigan, and with the diocesan missionary
band in the diocese of Cleveland. Every priest with zeal for
" preaching the gospel to every creature " realizes how timely
and how practical this kind of missionary work is. Never since
the learning of Athens gave willing attention to the preaching
of St. Paul have people, who did not well understand the
Christian faith, been better disposed to give a generous and a
respectful hearing to the word of God. Our fellow-citizens,
outside the Catholic fold, are hungry for a knowledge of divine
truth, and for an understanding of spiritual things.

The only remembrance of the Sunday-school and of reli-
gious training that clings to the minds of thousands of our peo-
ple is a deep-rooted suspicion, carefully planted in their youth-
ful minds, of the Catholic Church and all its practices. Later
experiences may have weakened the suspicions and positive con-
victions of youth about the wickedness of the " Romish " reli-
gion, but many roots of the poisonous seed, planted with most
studious care, yet remain.

What have we done, and what are the ten thousand priests
in the United States to-day doing, to remove this prejudice and
ignorance ? A solemn sense of the responsibility of the charge
confided at ordination " to preach the gospel to every creature "
makes one realize where the path of duty lies.

5;8 THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. [Aug.,

Devoted, unselfish, tireless zeal has been manifested in
preaching divine truth to our Catholic people. No priesthood
in the world has done more faithful service in this direction
than the zealous clergy of the United States. One needs only
to visit foreign lands, even the great centres pf Catholic faith,
to know how to value at its worth the devoted zeal of the
American clergy in preaching the Gospel to the members of
the Catholic fold. In view of this creditable fact, our indiffer-
ence toward those outside the fold, who are willing to listen to
our words, is all the more surprising. Our methods and man-
ner seem to intimate that none but believers need apply. The
notion is conveyed to the general public that we have no mes-
sage to bring to those who have had the misfortune of not
knowing the true faith from their childhood ; the very ones who
most need the ministrations of Christian preachers.

FAILURE OF THE PROTESTANT PULPIT.

The almost universal misconception and misapplication of
Christian truth outside the Catholic Church demonstrates be-
yond all question the utter failure of even orthodox Protestant-
ism to make clear to the human mind the meaning of the In-
carnation, and Christ's purpose in coming into the world. Those
who are regarded as the most enlightened and progressive in
the pulpits of the different sects have practically abandoned all
pretence of expounding the Gospel's meaning, or of plainly in-
structing their people in the duties of a Christian life. It is
taken for granted that dogmas and creeds are out of date, relics
of religious superstition, and the preacher's duty seems to be
understood as entertaining a refined audience with some choice
literary selection on the Lord's day. The praiseworthy efforts
of the Salvation Army, and of the Evangelistic Revivalists, are
a protest against the betrayal on the part of the Protestant
pulpit of its solemn obligatrons. These make earnest and noble
efforts to arouse the conscience and to move the human heart.
If we compassionate them for their crude and unskilled attempts
at converting sin-burdened souls, we may with great profit imi-
tate their tireless zeal. Our non-Catholic fellow-citizens are
more than willing to give respectful attention to the message
we have to offer. They are famishing for the word of God.
They realize that something is sadly needed to supply the
craving of their spiritual need. How to supply this want, how
to feed their esurient souls with the bread of divine life, is a
problem that they could scarcely be expected to solve easily.

1895.] THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. 579

The solution is in the hands of the Church of God in these
closing days of the nineteenth century, as it ever has been.
Our duty is manifest and plain ; we must make it easy and at-
tractive for all men to come to a knowledge of the truth.

We cannot relieve our consciences by claiming to have made
ample provision in our churches for all who wish to hear lucid
explanations of God's truth. Non-Catholics ordinarily do not
and will not come in crowds to our churches. As a rule they
are not made to feel at home inside of Catholic churches. This
complaint is universal, confined to no particular part of the
country ; and, alas ! too well founded. The reasons, however,
that exist for this unfortunate fact do not by any means all
spring from any discourtesy or inhospitality on the part of our
Catholic people. They have a deeper source. They may be
traced to cherished Catholic traditions, founded upon the objects
for which the church edifice was reared, and also to Protestant
traditions and customs dear to them.

CATHOLIC CHURCHES NOT PLACES FOR SOCIABILITY.

Catholics everywhere rightly regard the church, the house of
prayer, the home of religious worship, as the one sacred place
where all God's children may meet on equal terms, for the sole
purpose of pleading with their Heavenly Father, or of offering
homage to his adorable name. They cannot consider their
churches as social centres, and in them the courtesies of social
life are supposed to yield to matters of more serious concern.
The Sacred Presence on the altar, the tremendous sacrifice of
the Mass, hallow the temples of our faith, and make manifest
the inappropriateness of exchanging therein social civilities.

The houses of worship among the different sects, on the con-
trary, have been regarded as veritable " meeting-houses/' where
the people assemble, not only for purposes of religious worship
but 'also for the exchange of social amenities. Within the
meeting-house there is no religious symbol, no object-lesson to
remind the assembled congregation, while waiting for the preacher
to entertain or edify them, that they are in the house of God,
and that their thoughts should be centred on spiritual things.
As a social assemblage, therefore, the congregation in any Pro-
testant church may be regarded as a satisfactory success. No
wonder the Protestant, accustomed to such agreeable social en-
vironment, feels out of place and ill at ease in presence of the
serious solemnity of a Catholic church. If non-Catholics will
not come to hear, what must be done ?

580 THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. [Aug.,

We can readily understand how the early apostles did not
wait for Jew or Gentile to come to their humble places of reli-
gious worship, but gladly went wherever the people might be
found to grant them a hearing. St. Paul on Mars' Hill, and
St. Peter at Rome or at Antioch, preached Christ and him cru-
cified wherever they found ears willing to hear them.

Those who watch the signs of the times cannot fail to ob-
serve the obvious necessity of providing some different method
of placing the case for Catholic truth before our non-Catholic
brethren, if we would fulfil our manifest duty, and remove the
false impressions that have created a distrust of the church in
this free land. The educated and cultured minority well know
that the absurd calumnies heaped upon the church are unde-
serving of the notice of human intelligence. But the great mass
of the people are influenced by at least some lurking suspicion
that much truth is concealed in the weird tales they have heard,
for the statements have often been repeated, and they have
never known of a refutation. The Catholic press is never seen
by them, and were its writings placed before them they very
naturally would regard them with some suspicion as engaged in
a case of special pleading.

FAILURE OF THE POLEMICAL METHOD.

Our controversial literature has too often been tinctured with
an asperity that savors more of personal enmity against an an-
tagonist than of the meek firmness of the spirit of Christ. The
world has grown weary of controversy. Calm, unimpassioned,
plain presentation of Catholic truth is what honest and candid
minds are waiting for with eagerness.

It has always seemed to me that the priest should bear care-
fully in mind that he is a teacher of divine truth, not a profes-
sional debater in the field of religious inquiry. His highest am-
bition should be to know the best and plainest manner of pre-
senting to the human mind the doctrines of Christian truth, and
how to reach the human heart, and to lead it in attachment
and love to the sweet truths of the Gospel.

Learning, as a matter of course, is needed ; and learning pro-
found, practical, and of the highest order. The best test of
true scholarship is found in making plain to inquiring minds, by
simple and easily intelligible terms, great and necessary truths.
The popular preacher, in the correct sense of the term, is the
preacher whom the people most easily understand. But as the
highest art is that which comes nearest to nature, so the Chris-

1895-] THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. 581

tian preacher reaches the summit of his art when he succeeds
in conveying to the minds and hearts of his hearers, in the
manner most interesting to them, a clear conception of the
meaning of Christ's message to the world.

The writer has had some experience in this work of the
Public-Hall Apostolate, and for the benefit of others, especially
his clerical brethren, even at the risk of being regarded as ego-
tistical, he is willing to publish the result.

HOW FALSE IMPRESSIONS OF CATHOLICISM ARE SPREAD.

Over twenty years' experience in the field of temperance
work has brought him into close contact with thousands of hon-
est and earnest Protestants, the majority of whom had otherwise
known little or nothing of the true work of the church. Many
thoughtlessly had fallen into the error of judging the church
by its worst, instead of by its best members. Disreputable
saloon-keepers boasted of their loyal attachment to the church
of self-denial and mortification. Among their degraded patrons
hundreds might be found who seemed to glory in their shame,
and proclaimed their faith most loudly when they brought it
the greatest dishonor. Non-Catholic reformers had seen but
little of the church, except as they came in contact with its
members in their noble work of rescue and reform. Even
among their most prominent leaders but few had ever heard
a priest deliver a moral discourse, or preach a sermon on
Christian virtue. Fewer still had ever been present in a Catho-
lic church on a Sunday morning, or at any public solemnity.
The well-known leader of the W. C. T. U., a lady respected
and honored for her earnestness and candor by all who know
her and her work, had never been present at Mass, or heard a
Catholic sermon, until she came, as the guest of the Catholic
Total Abstinence Union, to the general convention at Washing-
ton in 1891.

From September, 1887, until June, 1888, my entire time was
spent in giving temperance lectures throughout the country, in
public halls, court-houses, or wherever audiences could be assem-
bled. Invariably honest non-Catholics were among our best
friends and most attentive hearers. They were also invariably
generous in the credit which they unhesitatingly gave to the
church for its work . in the temperance field. It became evi-
dent, beyond all doubt, that if similar opportunity were offered
to honest but mistaken people to know the church as she is
known to her children in all her good work, the result would

582 THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. [Aug.,

be most gratifying to our divine Master and bring joy to the
angels of God. An inviting field was found in the growing
and progressive city of Minneapolis.

A PRACTICAL BEGINNING OF THE APOSTOLATE.

On the 20th of November, 1892, the work of the Public-
Hall Apostolate was begun. A pleasant hall, with accommoda-
tions for about eight hundred people, was secured. The first
discourse was on " The Idea of a Church." About six hun-
dred people, mostly Catholics, were in attendance. The second
Sunday the hall was filled. " The Authority of the Church "
was the topic. On the third Sunday singers were secured, and
thenceforth a volunteer choir led the congregational singing.
We always opened with a hymn, then followed a prayer selected
from Father Young's small hymn-book, the Our Father, Hail
Mary, Apostles' Creed, and the hymn to the Holy Ghost. The
discourse occupied about an hour, and the services closed with
a hymn and prayers from the manual. This work was kept up
during the entire winter ; the hall was so crowded every Sunday
evening that an extra supply of seats became necessary. The
attention of non-Catholics was soon awakened and they came in
large numbers. On Good Friday night a sermon on " The Pas-
sion " was delivered in the same hall, which drew out an over-
flow audience of all classes. Catholics who had remained away
from the church for many years, and who had become ashamed
to be seen at the church, began to come to the public hall,
where all felt free and welcome, and thus many were brought
back again to the faith of their childhood.

OVERFLOWING AUDIENCES.

In the following September, 1893, on resuming the work, it
became evident that larger quarters must be secured, as the
first hall was altogether inadequate to accommodate the people.
A larger hall, more central, and capable of seating about
twelve hundred people, was secured ; but the former experience
was repeated. Standing-room was at a premium, the enthusiasm
and interest grew, many coming to the hall an hour before the
time announced for the services to begin in order to secure
seats, and the attendance of non-Catholics greatly increased.
During this winter the national conference of the Methodist
Episcopal Church met in Minneapolis, and, as a matter of course,
the errors and x intolerance of Romanism were freely and acri-
moniously discussed by the Methodist bishops and Methodist

1895-] THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. 583

missionaries to foreign lands. Terrible tales were told of the
vices of Romanists in South America, Spain, and Mexico, as
well as blood-curdling prophecies made of what the Romanists
would do when they had taken possession of the public schools
of this country, and sunk all the people in ignorance. This
furnished the opportunity for discourses by me on " Romanism
in Foreign Lands," " Romanism at Home," and " Romanism and
our Public Schools." The subjects were all announced in the
daily papers, and drew hundreds of people to listen to an ex-
position of Catholic truth people who could never have been
persuaded to enter a church for the same purpose.

In the discourse entitled " Romanism and our Public
Schools " it was made clear that the Catholic Church had not
been the aggressor in this controversy. Hundreds were unable,
unfortunately, to gain admission to all of these meetings for
want of room. Crowds patiently waited in the outer corridors
and on the stairways, in their eagerness to hear the Catholic
side of these questions.

The "escaped nun" and the "ex-priest" had found Minne-
apolis an inviting and popular field for their nasty work. A dis-
course on " Ex-Priests and Escaped Nuns " was considered
timely. The overflow attendance on that Sunday evening was
fully as great as the number that was packed into the hall. At
least five hundred people were obliged to return disappointed
to their homes, and with great difficulty the speaker himself
gained admission to the hall. Discourses on " Confession,"
"The Sale of Indulgences," and "Why Priests do Not Marry"
brought out equally large audiences.

Every effort was now made to secure greater accommodations,
but without success until Easter Sunday, in the spring of 1894.
We then moved into a spacious and comfortable hall, capable of
seating ordinarily about fifteen hundred people, and two thousand
could be seated by introducing an extra supply of chairs. It was
taxed to its fullest capacity at once, and the attendance con-
tinued to crowd this large audience-room until the warm weather
set in and the work was suspended for the summer season.

EXEMPLARY DEMEANOR OF THE LISTENERS.

In the different halls which I have described we were at
some disadvantage, from the fact that they had not been known
as popular places of resort, they were not favorably located, and
had never been attended by fashionable audiences. In fact
some of them had been known solely as places of amusement,

584 THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. [Aug.,

not always of a very respectable or elevating character. Yet
interest was aroused, good order was always observed, and as
much respect shown for our services as if they had been con-
ducted in the most imposing church in the land. During the
two winter seasons in which these public-hall meetings were
held we were never once annoyed by the slightest disturbance
notwithstanding uncomfortable crowding, or any attempt at dis-
respect or discourtesy.

The people freely applauded any sentiments that met their
special approval, but as a rule the attention given was as care-
ful and respectful as is ever seen in any church edifice.

THE LECTURES SELF-SUPPORTING.

The expenses for hall-rent, etc., were met by the collections
taken at each meeting, and these were more than sufficient for
the purpose. The people never object to contributing their share
towards meeting the necessary expenses of this kind, and no hon-
est and reasonable person will remain away because of the collec-
tion. In fact the small contribution he may feel disposed to
offer creates a feeling of special personal interest in the meet-
ing, and he does not feel like an intruder, or the beneficiary of
some one's bounty. I am convinced it is a positive benefit to
the people who attend such gatherings to be given an opportu-
nity of sharing the burden of expense. They then do not feel
like objects of sentimental charity.

SUPERIORITY OF THE PUBLIC HALL AS A LECTURE-PLACE.

Our new church, with a seating capacity of one thousand,
was opened in June of last year, and my duties in connection
therewith prevented a continuance of the public-hall work. Since
September of last year, however, I have preached every Sun-
day evening in the church, dealing with current and popular
topics, and explaining in plain and simple terms the doctrines
of the church, much in the same manner as formerly in the
public halls. The now popular " question-box," placed at the
main entrance to the church, is freely used, and proves to be
of inestimable service in directing attention to current miscon-
ceptions of Catholic teaching and practice. While the atten-
dance at the church has left nothing to be desired, and has at
all times taxed its seating capacity to the fullest extent, I yet
feel convinced that this would not have been the case had it
not been for the fact of the great popularity of the public-hall
meetings. Many non-Catholics who had been frequent atten-
dants at the hall seldom or never come to church. My experi-

1895.] THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. 585

ence confirms my conviction that the public hall is the best
and most attractive place in which to convey a knowledge of
divine truth in our time and country to our separated brethren.
By this means "other sheep not of the fold" will best hear His
voice, and there may be "one fold and one shepherd."

No one will, I trust, misunderstand me and imagine that I
could, for one moment, favor the abandonment of our churches
dedicated to divine worship, and the resorting to public halls
for the ordinary work of the church. The church edifice is for
our own Catholic people ; there the members of the household
of faith should, with greatest profit to them, hear the word of
God and receive the sacraments. The public hall is the rally-
ing place for all whom we would bring into the fold. Faith
comes by hearing and pondering on the word of God. We must
cause that word to be heard wherever men will best listen.

Many devout and earnest souls have seriously supposed that
our non-Catholic brethren might be attracted to the church,
and learn to appreciate its beauty and truth by witnessing its
grand ceremonial. I feel persuaded that this is a mistaken
notion, and I think it arises from a misconception of the mean-
ing of the ceremonies of the church. The ceremonial of the
church is a beautiful and charming outward manifestation of
deeply rooted convictions. It is a grand external manifestation
of earnest faith. Without faith in the teachings of divine truth
the ceremonies of the church may be a pleasing show, but they
are meaningless ; they may fascinate, but they will not convince
the reason or convert the heart. The church did not convert
a pagan world by means of entrancing music or gorgeous cere-
monial, but by preaching the word of God. Christ's solemn
charge to the apostles was to " teach all nations," not to charm
the eye by expressive manifestations of a living faith, which
are simply a puzzling mystery to the unbeliever. Ceremonies
of religion, like all outward expression, must follow, not pre-
cede conviction, if they are to exert any noteworthy influence
on thinking men.

A FRIENDLY PRESS.

The work of the public-hall apostolate can be prosecuted
with greater and more far-reaching success in large cities than
in smaller communities, on account of the very efficient aid that
will be given by the daily press. A thousand people may hear
an exposition of Catholic truth on Sunday evening, but ten
thousand will read the same in the Monday morning paper.

586 THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. [Aug.,

This is a great advantage which the smaller community is, of
course, unable to offer. The enterprising dailies in all our
cities are only too willing to give generous space in their col-
umns if we have anything to offer which the public is anxious
to hear.

It is a most fortunate fact in favor of the spread of Catho-
lic truth in our country that everywhere the daily press is our
kind and generous friend. How short-sighted it is on the part
of public teachers of eternal truths -not to make the best possible
use of this modern and powerful vehicle of public opinion !

THE CHURCH A CHURCH FOR ALL MEN.

The priest who has the fortitude, born of honest, earnest
zeal for the salvation of all men, to adopt new and attractive
methods of presenting divine truth to hungry souls, must be pre-
pared to run the gauntlet of unjust and unkind criticism. He will
receive but little generous encouragement from his own, and will
be regarded as a* disturber of pleasant and traditional customs
which, too often for the welfare of religion, are but vain pre-
texts for lethargy and sloth in delivering God's message to the
world. He will be cautiously warned against innovation and
novelty. But let us never forget that it is the glory and
the pride of our spiritual mother, the church, that she never
grows old, that she never fears the new, that she is gifted with
a divine vigor that endows her with a ceaseless activity, and
sends her in the vanguard of every noble movement for the
benefit of man. She must always be a leader, never a follower,
in moral reform and in dispensing divine truth to the world.
She is the salt of the earth, the light of the world, and her
sublime mission must not be hampered by the jealousies and
the selfishness of her children.

The Saviour of mankind did not establish his church for the
sole purpose of guiding to their eternal home those who might
receive the divine gift of faith in their childhood, but he placed
his church in the world to be a living and watchful witness of
eternal truth for all the children of men. Catholics should not
submit to the delusion that the church was watered by the
blood of Jesus Christ for their benefit alone, and that non-
Catholics have no title to her saving influences.

A SACRED CHARGE.

The priest is chosen from among men to bear aloft the
gleaming light of divine truth, that it may be easily seen and

1895.] THE PUBLIC-HALL APOSTOLATE. 587

known by all the children of Adam ; to place it upon the moun-
tain top, a guide to the weary wanderer.

The Public-Hall Apostolate is the inviting and timely work
of our day. Our beloved Sovereign Pontiff, in his latest encyc-
lical, which comes to us as the final appeal of a devoted and
affectionate father, sounds the key-note of duty and action for
the church in these United States. With what benignity and
paternal kindness he expresses his solicitude for our non-Catho-
lic fellow-citizens. He says : " How solicitous we are of' their
salvation, with what ardor of soul we wish that they should be
at length restored to the embrace of the church ! . . . Who
shall deny that with not a few of them dissent is a matter
rather of inheritance than of will? . . . Surely we ought
not to desert them, nor leave them to their fancies, but with
mildness and charity draw them to us, using every means of per-
suasion to induce them to examine closely every part of Catho-
lic doctrine, and to free themselves from preconceived notions."

Ours is the serious and solemn duty of placing the most
precious treasure which God has left in human keeping within
easy reach of the most energetic, most progressive, and most
intelligent people on the face of the earth the great American
people. It must be unveiled to candid and inquiring men.

When our duty has been faithfully done, in presenting to
honest and anxious souls, that had been deceived and led astray,
an opportunity of knowing the ineffable loveliness of the glori-
ous spouse of Jesus Christ, we can at least feel consoled by
the fact that we have not hidden our talent in a napkin, but
have made an honest effort that it increase and spread blessings
among our fellow-men.

The zealous and timely work of the energetic Paulist Fathers
marks an encouraging epoch in the history of the church in
our beloved land. Father Elliott's noble and generous ex-
ample may well be imitated by a hundred priests in this
country.

May the Master of the vineyard ordain that every bishop,
priest, and layman realize the pressing duty of the hour ! Let
every diocese in the country have its missionary band, for in
very truth " The field is ripe for the harvest."

Minneapolis, Minn.

OF THE RACE OF THE GENTILES.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.
(See frontispiece.}

HE shone amid the harvest field,
As fair a flow'r as ever grew ;
The downcast lids a heart concealed
As loadstone to the magnet true.
Fast as the ivy's clinging band,
Where'er her love was, there her land.

The fields laugh out in golden glee

Where smiles the sun o'er corn and vine:
Love is the day-god, only he,

Who ripened, Ruth, that heart of thine
That priceless heart which none could tear
From where its tendrils fastened were.

And type and sign, fair Ruth, art thou

Of that rich love that, all untaught
Before Christ's blessed Spouse did bow
Where his own kin would have her not.
Fair Gentile, none so dow'r'd as thee
With trustful faith and constancy.

The reapers bronzed, the maids who bind
The laden sheaves, watch her askance ;
No Jewish dame half so refined

As Moab's daughter, she whose glance,
Scarce lifted from her lowly task,
Would deprecate the boon she'd ask.

No wonder that the lord of all

That harvest plenteous and the land
Felt thy sweet grace his heart enthrall
And plighted thee his heart and hand ;
For from the Psalmist's stock he sprung,
The race most blest in heart and tongue.

And we who glean, in fear, apart,

'Mid fields whose harvests are for God,
Take hope from thee, O constant heart,
And tread the way thy footsteps trod.
Desire us not to leave thee, Lord ;
Not death shall part us from thy word.

1 8 9 5.]

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE.

589

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE.

BY A. HINRICHS.

HE beautiful scenery along the coast of the Sound
between Copenhagen, Elsinore, and the island of
Hveen, with its white cliffs rising sheer out of
the sea, presents a panorama of singular beauty.
The island is six miles in circumference. Moun-
tain-like it rises, terminating in a high, flat table-land of about
two thousand acres. It is of irregular, oblong outline, sloping
gently towards the east. The island is almost destitute of for-
ests and groves, but the sea, studded with vessels, and bounded
by the richly wooded coasts of Sealand and Scania, greets the
eye in every direction, and enhances the peculiar charm that
Hveen possesses for one interested in its illustrious associations.

One of the numerous myths concerning the origin of this
famous island is the following :

Hvenild was a giantess who carried pieces of Sealand in her
apron over to Scania, where they formed the hills of Rune-
berga. On the way her apron-strings broke, and she dropped a
piece in the sea. This piece is the island of Hveen.

Neither prior nor subsequent to the time of the man who
gave renown to this little isle has it figured in the history of
Denmark. But tradition asserts that years ago this picturesque
spot was the scene of heroic deeds. There are the ruins of
four castles or forts, supposed to have been destroyed in 1288,
when the Norwegian king, Erik the Priest-hater, ravaged the
coasts of the Sound. To-day but a few stones and a slight
elevation of the ground bear evidence of the site of each fort,
but at the time when the Danish sovereign had consecrated
Hveen to science, there were unmistakable traces left.

On the isle of Hveen Tycho Brahe, the greatest astronomer
of ancient or modern times, passed the most useful, and active
years of his grand life. Tycho Brahe and his incomparable
observatory, Uraniberg, with its wonderful instruments, gave
everlasting glory to this otherwise insignificant island. To-day,
alas ! as Wormius has aptly expressed it : " There is in the
island a field where Uraniberg was."

A review of the life of this celebrated astronomer shows

590

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE.

[Aug.,

that he was destined to revive the sciences and to establish the
true system of the universe. While yet a mere boy he recog-
nized that which had escaped the attention of all astronomers
before him ; namely, that an extended, unbroken, and regular
series of observations was indispensable for a better knowledge
of planetary motion, and ability to decide which system of the
world was the true one. He was the first astronomer who
would take nothing for granted. Ancient hypotheses were not
accepted by him. Early in life he resolved to determine every-
thing for himself. It was clear to him that the only means of
solving astronomical problems was to study the heavens with
improved instruments and by systematic observations. His
labors proved the foundation for modern astronomy, and Kep-
ler's stepping-stone for completing the work begun by Coperni-
cus.

The general public knows Tycho as the author of a special
system of the world, rather than the founder of a modern

astronomy of observation. This
Tychonian system is intermedi-
ate between the new Copernican
and the old Ptolemaic systems.
Tycho rejected the motion of
the earth, and, in accordance
with ocular evidence, accepted
the Ptolemaic view of the fixity
of the earth in the centre of
the world, a view which for ages
had been commonly held, for
it seemed in accordance with
the direct testimony of our
senses. But with Copernicus he
let all the planets the earth
not being considered a planet
revolve around the sun, which
carries them along in its daily
and annual motion around the
earth.

There can be no question
but Tycho, as an empiric, was

perfectly right. His system is the exact expression of all that
was positively established in his day relative to the motions of
the heavenly bodies. He also manifested great satisfaction on
account of the fact that his empirically correct theory was ex-

1895-] URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE. ' 591

actly conformable with the direct expressions of Scripture con-
cerning the structure of the world ; these expressions mani-
festly and necessarily being in agreement with the testimony of
the senses.

Strangely enough, modern writers have blamed Tycho for
not having adopted the Copernican system. Some have gone
so far as to assert that he was not serious in this matter ;
that he published his system merely to please the church and
the conservative public, while the great astronomer himself
could not possibly have believed in his own system. This sup-
position casts an entirely gratuitous reflection on the noble and
manly individuality of Tycho. It is but charitable to say that
such writers have no clear knowledge of the actual condition of
this great problem in the days of Tycho, who lived before the
telescopic observations were made and the science of dynamics
had been established, whereby the obvious scientific difficulties
of the Copernican theory were removed. The wonderful obser-
vations of Tycho permitted Kepler to remove the cumbrous
.system of epicycles which was common to all three great sys-
tems of the world : namely, the Ptolemaic, Tychonian, and the
Copernican.

Surely, our modern empiric scientists ought not to blame
Tycho for having refused to go beyond the facts established in
his time. Since his system is the only one that was strictly
in accordance with the known facts, he should receive credit for
the formal expression thereof, instead of blame for agreement
with existing belief or pity for lack of understanding.

Tycho was of noble birth, coming of an ancient family which
for centuries flourished in Denmark and Sweden. The family
still exists in both countries. He was the second child of Otto
and Beate Brahe, born December 14, 1546, at the estate of his
ancestors, Knudstorp, in Scania, the most southern province of
the Scandinavian peninsula, which at that time was part of
Denmark. Tycho was christened Tyge, but he latinized his
name to Tycho. He was the eldest of ten children five sons
.and five daughters. Tycho remained but one year under his
father's care. He was then reluctantly given to a childless
uncle, Jorgen Brahe, who was anxious to adopt and educate him.

With his seventh year Tycho began the study of Latin,
which he continued for five years. He acquired his early
education under private tutors; then, in April, 1559, he entered
the university of Copenhagen.

Jorgen Brahe was ambitious that his adopted nephew should

592 ' URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE. [Aug.,

become a statesman. Consequently special attention was
directed towards philosophy, rhetoric, and belles-lettres. At
variance with these wishes, Tycho soon showed his decided pre-
ference for astronomy. This greatly displeased his parents and
relatives. Only his youngest sister, Sophia, who was herself an
accomplished mathematician, sympathized with her brother.
She likewise devoted her mind to astronomy, and gave Tycho
all possible aid and encouragement.

The public had long been interested in an eclipse of the sun
which was to take place on August 21, 1560. Intense excite-
ment prevailed. At that time such a phenomenon was linked
with the prosperity or adversity of nations and of men. Tycho
eagerly studied the astrological diaries of the day. When at
the exact instant, true to prediction, he beheld the sun darkened,
he marvelled that man could so accurately know the motion of
the planets. To this eclipse is traced his inspiration to become
master of the science of the heavens.

Assiduously he studied the best astronomical works. Many
of these, probably, were beyond his immature comprehension.
During his three years' course at Copenhagen mathematics and
astronomy engrossed all his thoughts.

In the hope of estranging the youthful star-worshipper from
this fascination, his uncle, in February, 1562, sent him to the
university at Leipzig. Here he was to study jurisprudence.
Being remote from former associations it was hoped that he
would now apply himself to studies better suited to the making
of a statesman. Vain hope !

Tycho was accompanied by a young tutor, his senior by only
four years. The tutor, Vedel, did his utmost to confine his
charge to the study of legal authorities. By stealth, and with
considerable difficulty, Tycho managed to pursue his beloved
study. Most of his money was expended on astronomical
works and instruments. Through the midnight hours he
mastered higher mathematics, which still more intensified his
devotion to astronomy. While his preceptor was slumbering
Tycho studied the firmament. From a small celestial globe, no
larger than his fist, he learned the constellations, following
them night after night through the heavens.

Naturally, this forbidden perseverance resulted in some feel-
ing between tutor and pupil. However, Vedel appreciated the
insatiable thirst for science in his pupil, who in turn realized
that Vedel was but faithful to his duty. This was the begin-
ning of a life-long friendship.

l8 95-] URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE. 593

A conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter in August, 1563, first
impressed Tycho with the necessity of recording observations.
He had but the crudest implements, and only a pair of ordinary
compasses. By holding the centre close to the eye, and point-
ing the arms to two stars, or a star and a planet, then apply-
ing the compasses to a circle divided into degrees and half-
degrees, he found the angular distance of the stars. His first
recorded observation was made August 17, 1563. A few days
later, the 24th, he noticed that Saturn and Jupiter were so close
together that the interval between them was almost impercepti-
ble. This observation showed him that the Alphonsine Tables
erred an entire month in the time of conjunction, and that the
Copernican Tables were several days in error.

On May I, 1564, Tycho made his first observation with a
" radius," or " cross-staff," an ingenious instrument of his own
invention. To this " radius," together with the vast mass of
complete and accurate observations, Kepler has attributed the
restoration of astronomy.

The radius was faulty because it failed to give the angle
accurately. To remedy this defect Tycho constructed a table
of corrections to be applied to the results. The radius con-
sisted of a light, graduated rod, three feet long, and another
graduated rod of half that length. At the centre the shorter
rod could slide along the longer one, thus constantly forming
a right angle. The cross-rod being movable, by shifting until
he saw through its two sights the two objects of which he
wished to measure the angular distance, he could calculate the
required angle from the gradations and a table of tangents.

Having concluded his three years at Leipzig, May, 1565, he
was about to make a tour of Germany when he was called
home by the death of his uncle. Early the following year he
entered the university at Wittenberg. He remained but five
months, when, because of the plague, he left for the university
at Rostock. Here an incident occurred which, but for so faith-
ful an outpost as his nose, might have cost him his life, and
the world a sure basis for astronomy.

On December 10, 1566, at a betrothal feast at the home of
a professor, Tycho quarrelled with another Danish nobleman.
The dispute arose from a difference of opinion respecting their
mathematical acquirements. They parted in anger only to re-
new the trouble at a Christmas party on the 2/th. It was then
agreed to settle the difficulty by the sword, and in total dark-
ness. Accordingly, they met two days later. In the blind
VOL. LXI. 38

594

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE.

[Aug.,

its
was an

combat Tycho lost the whole front of his nose. He repaired
the loss by cementing upon his face an excellent imitation of
.the lost member, made of a composition of gold and silver.

Tycho remained two years at Rostock. Then he visited the
ancient city of Augsburg. He was deeply impressed with the
extent of its fortifications, its magnificent public and private
buildings, spacious thoroughfares, and beautiful fountains. Still
more was he charmed with the culture and refinement of its
people, and the love of literature and science cherished by
wealthy classes. Among these was Paul Hainzel, who
ardent disciple of astronomy.

Hainzel undertook the cost of an instrument designed

Tycho a quadrant with
a radius of nineteen feet,
and bearing the single
minutes on the graduated
arc. By the skill of the
best available artisans,
clock-makers, jewellers,
smiths, and carpenters the
huge instrument was com-
pleted within a month.
Its size may be conceived

from the fact that twenty
men were scarcely able
to erect it in Hainzel's
garden.

The two principal rec-
tangular radii and the
arc were of well-seasoned
oak wood, bound to-
gether by a frame-work
of twelve beams and iron
bands. A slip of brass
along the arc had the

marked upon it. The quadrant was suspended
and was movable around it. The two sights
of the radii and the measured altitude was
The weighty mass was attached to a
placed in a cubical frame-work of
turned round by four handles, to
fixed in any vertical plane. The
to an oak pillar shod with

THE MURAL QUADRANT.

5,400 divisions
by the centre
were fixed on one
marked by a plumb-line,
mammoth beam, vertically
oak and capable of being
allow the instrument to be
frame-work was securely fastened

1895-] URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE. 595

iron, driven into the ground, and kept firm by solid masonry.
.The instrument was too large to be conveniently placed under
a permanent roof. It was protected from the weather by a
covering made of skins. Thus it stood for five years, when it
was destroyed during a vioFent storm. This quadrant was
adapted only to the determination of the altitudes of celestial
bodies. Tycho, feeling the need of an instrument for measuring
their distances, constructed a large sextant for that purpose,
with which he made many valuable observations.

While at Augsburg he also made a great wooden globe. It
was six feet in diameter. The outer surface was turned with
remarkable accuracy into a spherical contour. Warping was
prevented by interior wooden beams supported at its centre.

In 1570 Tycho departed from Augsburg, and returned to
Knudstorp. The year following his father died.

Tycho's fame was not lost to his countrymen. He was
warmly received, loaded with favors, and invited to court by
the king.

On November n, 1572, while walking homeward from his
laboratory, he discovered a new star. The constellation ap-
peared as bright as Venus at her maximum, and was somewhat
larger than Jupiter. It grew less and less bright in the course
of the following sixteen months, until finally it hardly exceeded a
star of the fifth magnitude, and in the end ceased to be visible.
With its decline in brilliancy it also waned in size. In color it
changed from white to yellow, red, and finally to lead color,
so long as it was visible. On this remarkable star Tycho
.wrote a detailed account of his observations. After relating
how he first saw it, he treats of its position among the stars,
its magnitude, color, its decline and change in size and color,
concluding with his opinions about its astrological effects. Not
unlike great minds of that time, Tycho believed in the force of
planets and stars over men. Indeed, he found much pleasure
in casting the horoscopes of noted men and of his royal
patrons. In his later days, however, he seems to have entirely
renounced his astrological faith.

Upon the publication of this book Tycho had proposed a
tour into Germany and Italy. A fever and Hymen interposed.
He displeased his proud relations quite beyond reconciliation
by wooing and wedding, not a lady of gentle blood but a
quiet peasant girl, by whom he had five daughters and three
sons. With the exception of two children, all survived him.

Tycho's rising fame had now (1574) attracted the attention

596 URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE. [Aug.,

of the capital. Several noble Danish students at the univer-
sity were anxious that he should deliver a course of lectures.
He did not favor the proposition, and complied only upon a
most urgent appeal from the king. Beginning September, 1574,
and extending throughout a year, he gave a full course treating
of the science of astronomy ; also defending and explaining all
the speculations of astrology.

Subsequent to these lectures he travelled extensively in
Germany ; made the acquaintance of the immortal Landgrave,
Wilhelm IV. of Hesse, at Cassel ; then went to Frankfort-on-
the-Main ; thence to Basle ; through Switzerland to Venice, and
back to Denmark.

The patronage which had been extended to astronomers by
several of the reigning princes of Germany seems to have
created a love of science in the minds of other monarchs. The
King of Denmark, Frederick II., felt chagrined that the only
astronomer of his domain should carry on his observations in-
distant kingdoms, and that such discoveries should reflect glory
upon other courts than his own. Early in 1576 his attention
had been specially drawn to Tycho, by Landgrave Wilhelm II.
He urged the king to assist Tycho, so that the distinguished
astronomer might pursue his investigations at home. This
course would reflect credit upon the king and his country, and
be of inestimable value to the advancement of science in his
dominion.

Tycho was about to leave his native land for ever and
reside at Basle, when noble messengers summoned him before
the king. His majesty received him with flattering kindness,
and made a munificent offer. He promised to give Tycho a
grant for life of the island of Hveen ; to construct and furnish
with instruments an observatory ; to erect a palatial home for
his family ; and to equip a laboratory for the continuation of
his chemical studies. Tycho deliberated a few days, consulted
his friends, and then accepted the offer. He was loyal to his
country, and rejoiced in the thought that whatever success and
glory should attend his future efforts would ' belong to his
native land.

Tycho was well pleased with his new possessions. Nearly in
the centre of the isle, one hundred and sixty feet above sea-
level, he selected a spot as the site of his residence and obser-
vatory. This he properly named Uraniberg, " The City of the
Heavens."

Work commenced immediately. The corner-stone was laid

i8 9 5-]

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE.

597

with the rising of the sun on August 8, 1576. Building opera-
tions proceeded steadily under the direction of an architect and
the personal supervision of Tycho. The house was soon ready
for occupancy, although it was not completed until 1580. On
Tycho's birthday, December 14, 1576, he began a series of
observations which were continued for more than twenty years.
Uraniberg was in an enclosure 300 feet square, the four
corners of which corresponded exactly with the four cardinal

TYCHO'S ASTRONOMICAL PALACE.

points. The stone-covered earthen walls forming -the enclosure
were 18 feet high, with a thickness of 16 feet at the base. At
the middle of each wall was a semi-circular bend 73 feet in
diameter, each enclosing an arbor or summer-house. At the
east and west angles of the enclosure were gates to its interior.
In small rooms over the gateways mastiffs kept watch, and
their barking announced the arrival of strangers. At the north
and south angles were small buildings, in style similar to the
main structure, erected respectively for printing-house and for
servants' quarters. Inside the walls were extensive orchards,
shrubberies, and flower-gardens.

Uraniberg was built of red brick with sandstone trimmings,
after the school of the Gothic and Renaissance. Slender spires
and tastefully decorated gables and cornices harmonized with
the serene life and habits of a worshipper of Urania. Pictures,
inscriptions, statues, and ornaments, in lavish profusion, bespoke
the refined taste and high culture of the possessor. The build-
ing was one hundred feet long, surmounted in the centre by

598 URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRA HE. [Aug.,

an octagonal pavilion, a dome with clock-dials east and west,
and a spire with a gilt Pegasus serving as weather-vane.

In this building were museum and library, underneath in a
subterranean crypt was a laboratory, with sixteen furnaces of
various kinds. Below this again was a well forty feet deep,
supplying water by siphons to every part of the building.

Besides the principal building were two others to the north
and south, one for a work-shop, the other a farm-house.

On the hill south of Uraniberg was a subterranean observa-
tory for larger instruments which required to be firmly fixed,
and protected from wind and weather. Tycho named this ob-
servatory Stiernberg. It consisted of several crypts, separated
by solid walls, and to these there was a subterranean passage
from the laboratory in Uraniberg.

During the erection of these many buildings Tycho was
busily occupied in preparing elaborate and costly instruments
of observation. Upon these he expended not less than a " ton
of gold " of his personal income, and was continuously aided
by the generosity of his royal patron.

Within this ideal " City of the Heavens " Tycho passed his
serene and valuable existence from the end of 1576 to the
spring of 1597. During these years he accumulated a mass 'of
invaluable observations. He was assisted by a dozen pupils,
whom he boarded and educated. Some of these were sent
by the king and were educated at his majesty's expense.
Others were sent by different cities and academies, and promis-
ing students of astronomy who came of their own accord were
likewise admitted and educated by the generous Tycho.

There was much to do for all these young men. Astro^
nomical work was their principal occupation. The laboratory
was also in constant use. Tycho had a fondness for compound-
ing medicines, which he distributed free of charge. As a result
those in need of remedies flocked to Hveen. In the official
Danish pharmacopoeia of 1658 several of Tycho's elixirs are
quoted.

Every phenomenon that appeared in the heavens was ob-
served with the utmost precision. Regular series of observa-
tions were carried on for determining the places of fixed stars,
and for improving the tables of the sun, moon, and planets.

Scientific work was never neglected. Physical recreation, for
which the island offered diverse means, was by no means over-
looked. In the orchard provision was made for games of vari-
ous kinds. Arrangements were made for the trapping of birds,

I895-,

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRA HE.

599

and there were plenty of hares and other small game for hunt-
ing. Lovers of the rod found prime sport in the great number
of fish-ponds divided by sluices into two rows which met in a
lake, from which a winding river rippled through the cliff to the
sea. On this spot Tycho afterwards built a paper-mill, which was
driven by water from the fish-pond. The same water-wheel was
used for turning machinery for preparing skins. Besides these
lighter amusements, Tycho indulged in others of a higher plane.
In 1584 he put up a printing-press. This he intended, primarily,

BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF URANIBERG.

for the printing of his own works. When not thus employed
he used it for the publication of his poems to the memory of
departed friends, and other rhythmic effusions, in which direction
he was quite gifted. Furthermore, Tycho was a princely host.
His hospitality was unbounded. He graciously received throngs
of visitors, learned and unlearned, nobles, princes, and philoso-
phers, who came to pay homage to the first astronomer of the
age and admire his magnificent temple.

- Tycho realized the insecure position governing his creations
at Hveen. His endowments were dependent upon the king's
pleasure, and the island was given to science only so long as

6oo URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE. [Aug.,

the astronomer's life should last. Some day these splendid
buildings and this marvellous apparatus would vanish. Painful
thought ! His study of heaven and earth but the more forcibly
convinced him that " life is short and art is long." True, while
his royal protector lived Tycho and his beloved science were
secure. The king, Frederick II., appreciated the rare genius of
his gifted subject. He was proud of that genius as conferring
honor on his realm, and on the monarch who supported that
genius. Nay, more, he regarded Tycho as a confidential and
trusted friend to whom he ofttimes turned for counsel and
advice. As proof of this high personal esteem, Frederick II.
gave Tycho a golden neck-chain, with a pendant in the form
of an elephant, bearing the king's initials and motto.

The year 1588 was one of serious significance to Tycho.
King Frederick died. His eldest son, Prince Christian IV., at
the age of eleven, was elected his successor. Life at Hveen
continued as before. Tycho was honored and feted by com-
patriots and foreigners. This year, 1588, was further made
memorable by the publication of a volume containing some of
the results of his work at Uraniberg, and embodying his views
on the construction of the universe. The special subject of
this volume was the comet of 1577, the most conspicuous of the
seven comets observed during his time.

Naturally, Tycho's brilliant renown created for him many
enemies, jealous because they were utterly eclipsed by his high
achievements. Rancor smouldered within their bosoms. The
succession of the child-king was propitious to these enemies.
They would prejudice him against Tycho. But the disposition
and temper of Christian IV. were good. Moreover, a strong
taste for science, above all for astronomy, had taken vigorous
root in the Danish court.

In 1591 Christian IV. visited Uraniberg. He was charmed
with Tycho and his attainments. Tycho observed the young
king's admiration for a brass globe, which through internal
mechanism imitated the diurnal motion of the heavens, the
rising and setting of the sun and the phases of the moon.
This Tycho presented to the king, and in turn received a gold
chain with his majesty's picture, and the assurance of his un-
alterable devotion and protection.

Nevertheless, Tycho was justified in fearing a discontinuance
of royal patronage. Trivial complaints were the foundation for
serious offense. His envious enemies made mountains from
mole-hills.

I89S-]

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE.

60 1

A nobleman kicked Tycho's dog. Tycho resented the
cruelty. He reproached the nobleman, at the cost, however, of
incurring that aristocrat's bitter animosity. A petty dispute
with a tenant was grossly magnified, and proved an obstruction
to the great astronomer's hitherto unbroken peace. Another
fruitful source of annoyance was that he failed to keep in
repair a chapel in the Roskilde Cathedral, from which he en-
joyed the income on condition that he keep it in repair.
These really trifling things undermined his position in Denmark,
because his jealous fellow-nobles embraced these opportunities
for fanning the flame of discontent with the highly paid and
much favored scientist.
Another of the several
causes which eventually
induced Tycho to leave
Denmark was the quarrel
with a former pupil, who
at one time was betrothed
to Tycho's eldest daugh-
ter.

It is difficult to trace
the real motive of the
young king's change to-
wards the illustrious as-
tronomer. No doubt
Tycho's brilliant attain-
ments and almost miracu-
lous prosperity brought
him enemies in propor-
tion. It was inevitable.
Success and jealousy are
comrades. At opportune
times his enemies suggest-
ed that Tycho had been
petted quite long enough,
and such enormous funds
expended on instruments

was sheer extravagance, especially as Tycho had considerable
means of his own.

Tycho keenly felt the lack of appreciation with which he
was now received. He pined for the companionship of conge-
nial minds. In a measure this yearning overcame his regret at
leaving Hveen ; Uraniberg, his happy home for nearly a quarter

SEXTANS TRIGONIUS.

6o2 URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE. [Aug.,

of a century, the buildings and instruments wonders of the
age creatures of his mind and labor, and the obscure island
celebrated solely because of his work.

It is generally supposed that Tycho was forced to leave
Hveen. This is a mistake. There was no absolute compulsion,,
but things in general were made disagreeable beyond human
endurance. Tycho left Hveen March 29, 1597, for Copenhagen,
From thence after a few months, he sailed for Rostock.
Tycho attempted a reconciliation with Christian IV. His ap-
peal was harshly rejected, showing how thoroughly the young
monarch's mind had become estranged.

The plague hastened Tycho's departure from Rostock. He
accepted the invitation of Heinrich Rantzov to reside at his-
castle, Wandsbeck, near Hamburg. This castle had recently
been rebuilt. It was elegant and comfortable to some extent
even bearing favorable comparison with the home he had just
left for ever.

Tycho resumed his observations and began the work of an
illustrated description of his instruments. For years it had
been his idea to publish such a book, and now he deemed it
very desirable. In fact it was almost imperative to sustain his
reputation, and impress learned and influential men with the
unparalleled extent of his scientific research. He had brought
his printing-press along, so the book was printed under his own
eyes. The volume was dedicated to Emperor Rudolph, whose
service Tycho was about to enter.

Tycho arrived at Prague hi June, 1599. The German
emperor, Rudolph, was deeply interested in science. He was
most gracious towards the distinguished astronomer, and fixed
upon him a liberal salary and the castle of Benatky as his
dwelling and observatory. But work here was somewhat
hindered by financial difficulties.

It was at castle Benatky that Kepler sought Tycho. After
considerable misunderstanding between these two great men
Tycho who had given Kepler the " place to stand on," and
Kepler who " did move the world " co-operation in the service
of science was established between them.

On October 13 Tycho was invited to a supper. At table he
was seized with an illness which was the beginning of the end
of his illustrious career. He lingered but a few days. Con-
scious of near dissolution, he begged Kepler to continue his
noble work for the advancement of astronomy. Tycho's death
occurred on October 24, 1601.

URANIBERG AND TYCHO BRAHE.

603

On November 4, with great pomp and ceremony, the re-
mains of the immortal Tycho were entombed in the Teynkirche.
His resting-place is marked by a handsome- monument of red
marble erected by his children.

Considering the magnitude of Tycho's labor, his life of
nearly fifty-five years seems a long one. His name and work
will be revered and live so long as does the science of astron-
omy.

Tycho was above the average in stature ; corpulent in later
years ; of ruddy complexion, with " reddish-yellow " hair and
beard. He was of lofty independence of character, ever fear-
less of speaking his convictions, regardless of making dire
enemies. Hypocrisy he abhorred. He was frank, honest, and 1
kind, a man of great piety, whose daily life was elevated by
constant reference to a superintending Providence. He had the
deepest veneration for the Scriptures. The sublime wonders of
the heavens intensified his admiration of the divine power and
wisdom.

THE MURAL QUADRANT. Tycho's famous Mural Quadrant was a brass arc of 6^ feet
radius, 5 inches broad, and 2 inches thick, fastened to the wall. It had two movable sights.
At the centre of the arc was a small window or hole in the wall. In this aperture, at right
angles to the wall, was a gilt cylinder, along which the observer sighted within the movable
sights on the arc.

The space on the wall between the arc was artistically decorated with a picture of Tycho,
and six interior views of Uraniberg. The astronomer is pointing to the opening in the wall ;
a dog lies at his feet ; two views each, of the observatory, library and laboratory, are in the
spaces indicated in the drawing. Directly behind Tycho is a niche with a small globe, to either
side of which are portraits of King Frederick II. and Queen Sophia.

SEXTANS TRIGONIUS. This instrument was of solid wood, with brass arc $% feet radius,
supported on a copper-sheeted globe. This arrangement permitted adjustment of the instru-
ment in any plane. When in the desired position two long rods, resting on the floor, held the
sextant firm and steady.

604 CESAR'S HEAD. [Aug.,

C/ESAR'S HEAD.

BY JOHN J. A BECKET.

'ND so, with that tender thought in his mind of the
sweet girl clinging to her father's hand and im-
ploring him with childlike earnestness not to lean
over Caesar's Head and look straight down two
thousand feet upon the blended tops of the
trees so far below, Duncan Cameron fell asleep. How long he
slept, or what really woke him, he never knew. He himself
always believed it was the instinctive moving of his heart at
the psychic touch of the One Woman.

Then he heard a faint creaking of the hall-door. The
thought occurred to him that the wind had blown it open, and
feeling that such hospitable entrance accorded to the chilly air
would mean cool rooms for the party he sprang out of bed,
threw on his clothes, and went to close it.

The porch of the hotel annex at Caesar's Head was simply
an embrasure with a small room on either side, while the door
into the gaunt hall was set in the front of the house between
them. Cameron occupied one of these outside rooms. He
found the door half open. Then he reflected that he had been
the last man to come out, and that he had carefully latched it.
The wind was not strong enough to burst it open ; therefore
some one must have come out.

" Perhaps Carey wanted to have a smoke and preferred to
take it in this fine moonlight," he said to himself.

So Cameron pulled out a cigar, lit it, and strolled forth
himself into a night which made sleep seem sordid. For a
glorious moon, full and lustrous, rode in stately loneliness high
in the heavens. The wind rustled softly through the young
leaves.

There was an alluring isolation in the place and hour for
the fine-fibred young fellow. The day before had been so
full of wholesome stimulus. The long horseback ride up the
wild mountain road through an air of effervescent purity ; the
grim, aching barrenness of this deserted annex to a summer
hotel on the heights ; the exorcism of its bald discomfort by
huge wood fires on the sepulchral hearths, and the most savory of

1895-] CAESAR' s HEAD. 605

suppers in the one-storied cottage where the hotel man lived
and housed his lively brood of children. The strongest note
in it all, like the evening star glittering on the front of night,
had been she, that fair, sweet girl, woman in her strength of
feeling, child in her utter simplicity. How acute a yearning he
felt for her !

The scene from Caesar's Head had been a unique factor in
the day's delightful emotions : that small plateau, the top of a
column of two thousand feet of rock springing from a plain of
forest trees into the air. From it the eye seemed to see a
misty stretch of ocean, dim, blue, mysterious, while a long line
of swelling ground had looked like some huge billow curling
till it should break in voiceless lapse upon the dumb shore. It
had been fascinating, this phantom sea of such ample reach and
without the big, hollow boom with which the ocean chants its

joy-
When he had hooked his foot in a fissure of the rock and
had leaned over to sound with his eye the misty depths, what
a touch of sweet alarm had quivered in her entreaty that he
would not ! She had said that she could not have stood so
near the brink without feeling that impulse to cast herself down
which assails some brains on lofty heights.

The fancy took Cameron to wander to the Head now and
look forth on the great blue vastness below swathed in the
pearly folds of the moonlight. He turned and walked down
the path. There was a dainty charm about the young trees
with their slender branches and small leaves that fretted the
silvery path with inky arabesques. He thought of the Latin
poet to whom all in nature sang the name of his beloved.
The hushed silence of the night seemed to breathe Eva's name
to his heart. How sweet and tender she was. And how
simply true ! What a new world her love would make for him.
No wonder that her father guarded her as the apple of his

But what was that ? Ahead, through the bushes, he caught
a gleam of something white. Probably the moonlight blanch-
ing the lichened face of some rock. But no ! There it was
again. This time plainly discernible through a clearing a
white form, moving. Near Caesar's Head, too. Did the spot
boast a ghost undiscovered by the guide-books ? What a lure
for a " harnt," that solitary eyry !

Suddenly another thought, infinitely more perturbing, shot
through his mind one that made his heart leap to his throat.
It was an awesome fancy. He dashed forward, bounding lightly

606 CESAR'S HEAD. [Aug.,

along on the tips of his feet like some swift thief of the night.
Then his legs refused to move and all strength died utterly
from out him !

For there, right on the small, flat top of Caesar's Head, was a
fairy figure in white, with soft masses of hair lying like a halo
round her head, where the moonbeams touched it. The girl
had crossed the first part of the ledge and with slow steps was
advancing steadily toward the brink of the abyss, tranquilly
moving on toward the dread edge of the cliff.

To his dying day Cameron could never recall unmoved that
frightful moment in which all use of his limbs seemed denied
to him. His mind was working with the lightning energy of
excitement while he seemed doomed to stand there, stricken to
inertness, and behold her walk calmly on until her last light
step should hurl her, like a storm-blown snow-flake, into the
depths.

With a frenzied effort he shook off the paralysis his horror
had begotten. As lightly as possible he sprang forward with
mad haste. The thought of the shock of awakening her darted
through his mind. If he could avoid that ! But she must be
brought to a halt at any cost. On that hung life or death
beyond the peradventure of a doubt.

He slipped breathlessly in front of her, and braced himself
like a wall. He was not a yard from the brink, but he took
no heed of the dim blue depths below. He stood like a thing
of stone, despite his labored breathing. His heart hammered
against his chest, his temples throbbed.

She touched him as she moved forward. What would she
do? Would it awake her? No! She paused. Then slowly,
hesitatingly, turned aside. A few quick steps, and again he
stood in her path. There was the same hesitation on the part
of the girl as she encountered once more this obstacle ; but she
once more deviated from her course, and this time her steps
were no longer toward the brink of the cliff. Using the same
tactics he had already employed with success, Cameron directed
her slow, tentative steps back into the woodland path leading
to the " Annex,"

At last the strange companions, the strong man, quivering
from the nervous strain and so achingly awake, and the delicate
girl, in the calm unconsciousness of slumber, arrived at an open
spot, some yards from the Head. But Cameron was by no
means at ease as yet. There was still a point to be settled.
Ought he to awaken her? If he could guide her gently and

1 895-] CESAR'S HEAD. 607

surely back to the very door of her room so that no one, not
even the girl herself, should know of this adventure of the
night, that would be the best solution of the whole thing. But
with his heavy shoes he could hardly hope to go through the
hall without creaks from the wooden floor, and he knew no way
to arrest her till he should have removed them.

But this night air on her thinly-clad person ! He feared the
effect of that. If she were awakened she could easily return to
her room without alarming any one. Poor Cameron hadn't
the faintest idea what one did when roused from a somnambu-
listic state. Would she scream, or have hysterics, or promptly
faint ? Or might she be so gradually led to a knowledge of
things that the full shock of surprise and fright could be
avoided ? A slight shiver that ran over the girl determined him
to awaken her, at all events.

He gently took her fingers in his hand. There was no
response to this. He gave a quick, strong pressure to her
chilly fingers. The girl halted, slowly withdrew her hand, and
shivered again. Then her eyes began to fill with consciousness.
Her hand went pitifully to her head. As she looked about her
in a frightened way Cameron spoke.

" Don't be alarmed, Miss Donaldson," he said, in as calm a
tone as possible. He even tried to inject a cheerful sound into
his words. " We were walking, and you had a slight spell of
unconsciousness. You know me Duncan Cameron ? How do
you feel?"

" Where am I ? What is the matter ? " There was a tremu-
lous quiver in her voice, and she looked vaguely around, letting
her startled gaze flutter back to the young fellow, who was try-
ing his best to simulate a matter-of-fact ease. He had all a man's
horror of a scene, and had a sense of impending hysterics. But
the die was cast.

" First, you must feel perfectly calm," he said with decision.
" It is nothing at all. Won't you let me put this coat about
you ? You see, you came out for a little walk in this lovely
moonlight, and I chanced to meet you ; and now you are go-
ing back to the house very quietly so as not to alarm them.
Just put this coat about you. Do, I entreat you ! It is so
cool."

He threw off his coat and wrapped it about the girl's shoul-
ders. She looked into his eyes with a troubled gaze, and trem-
bled all over. Then she burst into a little moan and cried
brokenly :

6o8 CESAR'S HEAD. [Aug.,

" Oh>! I do not understand anything. Where is papa ? How
am I here ? Tell me ! I must know ! "

" You know me, do you not, Miss Donaldson ? Duncan Cam-
eron. You must know that no harm can come to you while
you are with me ? I assure you, if you will only be calm and
control yourself, I will explain the whole thing, and you will
see that it is nothing. I beg of you to compose yourself."
For she was still looking nervously about her, unable to fully
realize the situation.

He marked with some satisfaction that her gaze seemed to
become clearer as it rested on him. He bravely kept up a
smiling front, as if it were a very simple thing after all.

" Keep the coat about you or you will feel the air too much.
You see, it is only this. Will you take my arm ? and we can
walk on while I explain. You must have left the house in a
half-asleep condition, you know. I happened to hear you go
out, and realizing what it was, came and roused you ; that is all.
Now it is all right. There is not a bit of harm done. Don't
you understand, my dear girl ? "

To his immense relief the strained look had somewhat died
out of her dilated eyes. It was a positive joy to him to see
that she grasped the situation and would not break down. She
spoke hurriedly.

" You mean that I have been walking in my sleep ! I can-
not understand it. Is that the hotel there ? " for they had now
come to where the broad side of the wooden building gleamed
whitely in the moonlight. "But where is papa? why is he not
here ? "

" He does not know it. Nobody knows it but me. I was
awake and heard the door. If you get quietly back to your
room no one need know it until the morning. There is no
object in frightening your father, as it might if he were to
learn it now. Won't you go quietly and bravely back and go
to sleep ? In the morning you will be all right. I implore you
to do this, like a brave girl."

"Yes, I will," said the girl. "I never did such a thing as
this in my life before. You are very good. What a shame
that you should have been awakened ! What time is it ? " she
exclaimed quickly.

" I haven't my watch here," said Cameron with a short laugh.
" But I will look at it as soon as I get to my room and will
tell you to-morrow morning."

" And there you are in your shirt-sleeves ! " she cried re-

1 895.] CESAR'S HEAD. 609

morsefully. " You are right, papa must not know it until
morning. He would not sleep a wink all night, and he could
do nothing. You are very kind. This is dreadful ! How could
I have done such a ridiculous thing?"

She was walking rapidly now toward the house. She softly
ascended the steps, and Cameron pushed the door open gently
for her to enter.

" Thanks ! " she said in a whisper. " Here is your coat.
Good-night." She extended her hand hurriedly.

" Good-night, and God bless you ! " said Cameron in a whis-
per. He bent on the impulse of the moment and pressed his
lips to her hand with intense fervor. She drew it away then
with tender coyness, touched his cheek lightly with her finger,
a timid, caressing stroke. Quickly and softly the door was
closed.

Cameron was too much roused to sleep. Besides, there was
a leaven of thought within his brain which made it sweet to wan-
der in the hallowing calm of the austere moonlight. He had
saved this dear girl's life. Probably some strange germ of
thought, sown in her brain the preceding day, had led her in
her sleep by a nearly fatal fascination to the airy crest of
Caesar's Head. Oh, if he had not awakened ! A shudder ran
through him at the thought. What a proud happiness to him
that some occult feeling had roused him at that juncture. How
true his feeling toward her, and what sympathy it proved be-
tween them, that her danger should have affected him when
they were both wrapped in slumber !

And what eloquence there had been in that light touch of
her ringer upon his cheek ! He put his hand up to his face to
feel the consecrated spot. He had saved her life, and that gave
him a claim upon it. Would she not save his ? for he could
not live without her. He felt that now, strongly and surely.
Ah, if morning would only come ! But he was excitedly hap-
py as it was, and paced to and fro over the short grass like a
knight keeping vigil over his mistress. Knight or not, that is
what he was doing. There was hardly a likelihood of another
somnambulistic sortie on Eva Donaldson's part ; but if there
should be, he was there.

And there he was when the sun, like a mass of molten
metal, squeezed its way up through the different strata of haze,
straining on to its full unconfined splendor. It was the most
undignified sunrise Cameron had ever seen. The sun was
stretched and crowded and squeezed, now pulled out like a
VOL. LXI. 39

6io CESAR'S HEAD. [Aug.,

pear, and again flattened like a pumpkin, yet rising still with
fat, soggy doggedness.

" Poor old sun ! " Cameron said to it apostrophizingly. " You
might usher in this day for me with a little better rise than
that. You look groggy and the worse for wear."

That he might not look a little too much so himself, Dun-
can Cameron went to his room and took a cold bath and a
vigorous rub. But there was a slightly haggard look about his
honest eyes even then. However, as offset, there was a greater
brightness about them than usual when he met Eva Donaldson
and the rest of the party at breakfast. That young woman ex-
tended her hand with a little restraint as she bade him good-
morning, but her smooth cheeks were red enough to satisfy her
father's fondest desire as she did so. There was a cordial
warmth in the young man's greeting, and an eager tenderness
in his glance which disturbed and yet comforted poor Mr.
Donaldson. If Eva entertained a liking for this strapping fel-
low, he was somewhat consoled to think that it was a recipro-
cated feelmg. He was beginning to feel that it was.

They were to start back soon after breakfast. There was
really nothing of interest in the place save Caesar's Head. To.
Cameron that had decidedly waned as an attraction, and he was
sorry to hear Mrs. McNiel sav to Mr. Donaldson : " We will
walk over and take one more look from Caesar's Head, and
then we can start."

When they got there he remained with the girl and her
father somewhat in the rear. The event of last night seemed
like a dream. He was so honest that it weighed on him slightly
to think that the girl was unconscious of her nocturnal visit to
the spot, and that the bluff, hearty father was ignorant of his
dear daughter's wandering altogether. He was outspoken and
frank to such a degree that deception, even for pity's sake, irked
Duncan Cameron.

"I think I will go down there," said Miss Donaldson sud-
denly. " It is silly to have such a feeling."

" No, no ; don't ! " exclaimed Cameron impulsively. " You
mustn't carry away an unpleasant impression of the place, you
know," he added, quickly, as her eyes turned toward him with
quick inquiry in them at this outbreak. She remained where
she was.

Mr. Donaldson said he thought that the two women and
Mr. Cameron should ride during the first part of the return
trip. " The air is a little chilly, and you will get your blood in

1 895-] CESAR'S HEAD. 611

motion better on horseback than by driving. We can change
after awhile."

After they began the descent of the mountain Cameron
busied himself with a hundred things other than the subject
uppermost in his mind. The girl's cheeks were rather white
and her eyes seemed to him worn and tired. They kept with
Mrs. McNiel carefully. They were each trying to seem perfect-
ly natural. But there were passages of silence which spoke
loudly of the undercurrent in their thoughts. They were some
distance ahead of the buckboard. At last, when they came to
a comparatively long stretch of the road with an easy grade,
Cameron exclaimed with forced animation : " Miss Donaldson,
this beast of mine is longing for a splendid run and your little
mare is pulling on the snaffle. Let us have a good dash along
here. What do you say, Mrs. McNiel ? It will warm us up."

" Go ahead," said Mrs. McNiel. " I will catch up with you
if I don't keep up with you."

" Admirable woman ! " thought Cameron. Miss Donaldson
gathered up her reins quickly and struck the flank of her mare
a sharp blow with her crop. The two flew along in a wild,
long rush. Cameron had no occasion to keep his horse down
in order to stay closely by his companion's side. He looked
with fiery admiration at the slender, erect figure of the girl,
sitting her animal so lightly, so firmly, and guiding with so sure
a hand. For a mile they let out their horses, feeling all the
exhilaration of this bounding, free movement in the fresh morn-
ing air. At last Miss Donaldson pulled her horse in and they
fell into a walk.

" That is better than champagne," said Cameron enthusias-
tically. " It has brought the color into your cheeks. Did it
tire you ? "

" Not the least bit," she replied. " I should like to keep it
up for an hour. But you look worn and fagged out this morn-
ing." She darted a quick glance at him. " I am dreadfully
vexed with myself. Did you go to bed right away last night ? "

"Not right away," said Cameron with stress on the "right,"
as if it were almost right away. " The night was so glorious
that I enjoyed myself immensely stalking about in the moon
light."

Miss Donaldson almost stopped her horse as she suddenly
said : " I hope you didn't stay up with the idea that I would
indulge in any more night wanderings. I cannot imagine how
I could have done such a thing. And it is worrying me ; for I

612 CMSAR'S HEAD. [Aug.,

must tell papa, and it will upset him dreadfully. He has been
so happy here in Asheville, and had quite got over his absurd
fretting about my health. And now when he finds out that I
am given to strolling around in the silent watches of the night
sound asleep, he will worry himself to death."

"Well, I don't see why you should tell him at all," said
Cameron robustly. " It was a perfectly exceptional thing, and
not a bit of harm came of it. What is the object in telling
him ? "

" I have never had a secret from him in my life," replied
the girl pensively, "and it will make me feel so strangely to
keep this from him. But I do not want to worry him and there
is nothing he could do, as you say. What time was it when
you went in ? "

"Well, a little after sunrise," replied Cameron with a short
laugh. " And such a sunrise ! I wish you could have seen the
majestic orb of day crowding into the world. It was squeezed
all out of shape."

"Why did you stay up all night?" she exclaimed with an
accent of reproach. " Out in that chilly air ! And in your state
of health ! It was reckless."

Cameron leaned back in his saddle and the woods rang with
his mellow laughter. "My state of health?" he said, when he
had recovered from this outburst. " My dear Miss Donaldson,
I am as healthy as an ox. Where did you get such an idea as
that my health was not perfect ? And it was not cold. I
haven't had such a jolly good time for years as those hours
last night after you left me. They passed only too quickly.
I was thinking of you," he said with a change of voice, leaning
forward and looking at her tenderly.

" I am afraid Mrs. McNiel will get lost," she said thought-
fully, turning in her saddle and trying to see where that worthy
laggard was.

" Mrs. McNiel is all right. She is coming on at a comfort-
able jog which, I regret to say, will bring her up with us alto-
gether too soon. I only wish we were to ride all the way to
Asheville by ourselves," he added warmly.

" You might get very tired," replied Miss Donaldson. She
put forward her gloved hand and smoothed out a tangle in her
horse's mane. " How lovely those woods are this morning,"
she added, straightening herself and looking at the young leaves
twinkling in the sunlight. The charm of coquetry lies in a
pleased recognition of its mechanics.

1 895.] CESAR'S HEAD. 613

" Do you think," said Cameron, disdaining these attempts to
divert him from the theme, " that if I could walk all night per-
fectly happy in the mere thought of you, I should not find
your presence in the bright day a joy ? Miss Donaldson, I
found out something in this night on Caesar's Head which I
must tell you "; and his tone softened while he rode more closely
to her side and looked eagerly at the girl, whose head was
drooping a little. " I found that my life will not be much to
me unless I have you to share it with me. My dear girl," and
he put his hand on hers impulsively, " I love you. Tell me, is
there hope for me ? Do you care for me ? Will you let me
try to make your life a happy one ? "

He was bending toward her, his horse so close to hers that
his leg rubbed against the sleek side of the mare she rode.
The girl raised her face to his, her fair cheeks flushed, the white
lids drooping a little over her brilliant eyes. Her whole expres-
sion answered him, although she said not a word. She only
smiled ingenuously. It was the fully blossomed woman delight-
fully content to be a child for the moment.

He leaned still more toward her, and his long arm stole
about her slender waist. She swayed slightly toward him and
in another moment his lips met hers. It isn't the easiest
achievement in the world, an embrace on horseback, but Came-
ron felt that it was the most rapturous moment he had ever
known in the saddle.

" Then you will marry me, dearest ? " he cried with boyish
eagerness.

" You must ask papa," she answered coyly.

"But you love me, Eva?" he insisted impetuously.

She turned her rosy face, and with a childlike movement
leaned once more toward him, looked with the dearest modesty
into his yearning eyes, and said slowly, " Yes ; dearly."

" But, my darling," said Cameron, after another immeasurable
moment of life, " what if your father should positively refuse
his consent ?"

" Papa refuse to let me marry the man I love ! " she cried
with an ineffable air of wonder and amusement. " You do not
know papa," she added with decision. Then, as if considering
the impossible case as an hypothesis, she melted into a smile,
slow, bewitching, and innocently arch, as she said : " If he did,
why I should probably get up in my sleep and elope with you ! "

614 THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. [Aug.,
THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES.*

BY ORBY SHIPLEY, M.A.

EW studies are more interesting to a Catholic who
visits the centre of Christendom in the spirit, if
not in the garb of a pilgrim, than a study, how-
ever slight, of the churches of Rome. The inter-
ests, even apart from religion proper, connected
with them are almost as varied as they are boundless. Art,
architecture, history sacred and secular, biographies of saints
and sinners, politics national, imperial, and cosmopolitan these
and other mundane interests combine to make the churches
which cluster around the shrines of the apostles in the Eternal
City to be unique both in kind and in degree. Whilst, if to
the more temporary attractions be added features in their ex-
istence which possess a higher importance, the story and pres-
ent position of these sacred buildings assume an aspect which
before was wanting to them. The churches of Rome, then, it
will be allowed, deserve and will repay, from many points of
view, long continued and patient study. It was the writer's
privilege, many years ago, during more than a single winter
spent in the centre of Christendom, to be enabled to devote a
certain amount of time and some attention to this many-sided
and exhaustless topic, as an amateur student. Under such a
condition, the result of his studies could not fail to be super-
ficial ; yet even a superficial view of such a subject, if entered
upon with proper dispositions, is productive of benefit to the
mind of the student, and may be made of some interest to
others, if it be supported by authorities. It is not impossible,
therefore, that in conjunction with the professional leading of
an expert and master of the power of the late Mr. Fergusson,
and of ecclesiastical specialists of the position of Monsignor
Montault and of the late Dr. Donovan in those portions of
their several works' which treat of the topic in question facts
and opinions, judgments and memories, may be made from
rough notes, or may be repeated from more polished pages,

*A History of Architecture in all Countries. By James Fergusson. Third edition;

vols. i. and ii. London : Murray. 1893. Rome, Ancient and Modern. By Jeremiah

Donovan. In four volumes. Rome. 1842. L'Annee Liturgique a Rome. By X. Barbier

de Montault. Fifth edition. Rome : Spithover. 1870. Diario Romano. Rome. 1879.

1 895.] THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. 615

which may prove acceptable to the reader of the following
lines.

THEIR DISTINCTIVE CHARACTER.

One preliminary thought may be dwelt on for a moment.
The churches of Rome, as a whole, enjoy a special peculiarity
over those of any other modern city. Individual temples else-
where in Italy may surpass any given sacred edifice in Rome
always excepting St. Peter's, which stands alone in their design
or execution. The cathedrals or churches at Ravenna, Venice,
Florence, Milan, Siena, Padua, Perugia, -Assisi, Bologna, Verona,
Pisa, or Pavia, to name no more, may be able to boast of
special ecclesiastical attractions incomparably grand or beautiful
or rare or precious, in comparison with any other building in
the civilized world. Older and more magnificent mosaics, a
larger number of pictures and frescoes of note, finer marbles or
more delicate inlaid work, richer and more curious painted glass,
more elaborate tombs and sculpture in stone or metal, hand-
somer and completer exteriors or nobler and more impressive
interiors, higher or more elegant campaniles or more dignified
domes, or more aerial cupolas, or edifices with larger conven-
tual or religious or philanthropic institutions attached these one
by one may be witnessed and enjoyed elsewhere than in Rome.
But, on the whole, in the combination of varied interests, asso-
ciations or facts, whether in artistic instinct, intellectual
culture, historical memories, or devout use, the ecclesiastical
riches of the centre of Christendom are far greater than those
of any other single town, or it may almost be said of any
other single state. The churches of Rome are unapproachable
and unmatched, not without cause and reason, being as they
are those of the metropolis of revealed religion. Christian
Rome, as remarked by Dr. Donovan, " is pre-eminently distin-
guished for the multiplicity, magnitude, and magnificence of her
churches, in which she far excels all the other cities of the
Christian world."

HOW M'ANY THEY ARE.

Perhaps the first thing which strikes a stranger in a study
of the churches of Rome is their number ; ancient, middle-age,
and now again comparatively modern, by rebuilding or restora-
tion, they seem almost countless. It was formerly a common,
though always a hazardous and usually an unverified remark of
tourists, that you could see a fresh church in Rome every day

616 THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. [Aug.,

in the year. Apparently, there is no exaggeration here. Accord-
ing to the later estimate of Monsignor Montault, there exists,
as a fact, not fewer than 433, not including private chapels, and
conventual and other oratories, though Dr. Donovan, in 1842,
was content to account for only 300. Now, the population of
the Eternal City, before its siege and capture by the Italian
troops, was calculated at 200,000. Hence, if we adopt a moder-
ate estimate of churches and take a round number for facility
of creating an average, we perceive that in the days of its free-
dom Rome possessed one consecrated temple for every 500 of
its inhabitants. These 400 churches are divided amongst 54
parishes, of which 45 are inside and 9 stand outside the walls,
under a system finally arranged early in the present century by
Pope Leo XII. an arrangement which, within the circuit of
the walls, allots about seven churches or chapels to each parish.

A SEVEN-FOLD ARRANGEMENT.

The churches again are divisible into a seven-fold order :
i. The greater or patriarchal basilicas are so called because they
either were originally or were subsequently assigned in honor of
the five patriarchates of the Catholic Church, West and East, viz.,
of Rome, St. John Lateran ; of Constantinople, St. Mary Major ;
of Alexandria, St. Peter's ; of Antioch, St. Paul's outside the
walls; and of Jerusalem, St. Lawrence, also without the walls.
Before the Reformation the King of England was the official
Protector or Guardian of the Basilica of St. Paul ; but it does
not seem that the protectorate descended with the crown, as
did, by the irony of fate, that other papal title, granted to
Henry VIII. of England in the days of his faithfulness to
Rome, but which now appertains to the Protestant Sovereign
of Great Britain, Defender of the Faith. The kings of France,
also, were designated the Protectors of St. John Lateran ; but
it is doubtful if this honor has descended to the President of
the French Republic, though there be no reason in the nature
of things why it should not have so descended, but rather the
opposite; whilst, to this day, the King of Spain is the Guar-
dian of St. Mary Major, and the Emperor of Austria nominally
takes charge, when nothing has to be defended, of the Basilica
of St. Peter. 2. The titular churches are 50 in number. These
are the churches whence the cardinal-priests take their name and
jurisdiction ; they include four of the five minor basilicas : St.
Mary in Trastevere, St. Laurence in Damaso, St. Mary in
Monte Sancto (Piazza del Popolo), and the church of the Min-

1895.] THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. 617

erva, together with two of the seven stational basilicas, St.
Sebastian and St. Cross of Jerusalem. It was more than a
happy accident which has allotted to the English cardinal the
titular church of St. Gregory the Great, on the Ccelian Hill-
to the head of that " Italian Mission " whose duty it is to re-
claim for the second time the nineteenth century nation to the
obedience of Peter. It may be added, that the cardinal-priests

CHURCH OF ST. PETER AD VINCULA.

in their several titular churches are privileged to wear the same
sacred insignia that bishops wear in their dioceses, the mitre,
pectoral cross, episcopal cross, gloves and sandals, etc., and can
bestow solemn benediction with an indulgence of 100 days. 3.
The capitular churches and collegiate churches are 16 in num-
ber. They include three in each of the first two ranks, churches
already named, together with St. Mary in Cosmedin, of the second

618 THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. [Aug.,

rank, and nine other collegiate churches, or capitular churches
of the third, or lowest rank. The number of ecclesiastics who
are attached to the three greater capitular churches is note-
worthy. In addition to a College of Penitentiaries in each case
(Minor Observants, Conventuals, and Dominicans, respectively),
and also many chaplains, St. John Lateran numbers 52 priests,
St. Peter 93, and St. Mary Major 48. The clerical staff of St.
Peter's is described as follows : a cardinal-archpriest ; an episco-
pal vicar ; 20 senior canons ; 35 beneficiaries ; 26 beneficiary
clerks ; together with, as before said, chaplains and conventuals.
4. The parochial churches, 54 in number, have already been
named ; and are divided into 22 parishes under the care of
secular priests, 22 under religious priests, and 10 suburban dis-
trict churches. 5. In the year 1870 not fewer than 89 religious
orders, of men and women, were in this relation represented in
Rome. The churches belonging to these houses are termed
Religious Churches, and they number about 187 in all. 6. There
are 28 national establishments in Rome, using the word in a
liberal sense to denote natives of other localities, whether civic
or national. These 28 establishments represent 47 churches,
which are attached to cemeteries, hospitals, and colleges, reli-
gious houses and convents, and confraternities and congrega-
tions, whether priestly or secular e.g., the corporation of Ger-
man bakers. Two American colleges, and one English and
Scotch and Irish college, are included in this division. The in-
habitants of Bergamo, Brescia, Florence, Genoa, Lucca, Siena*
and Venice amongst cities ; and Armenians, Germans, Spanish,
French, Greeks, Poles, Portuguese, and Swiss amongst the peo-
ple of states not before named are also represented. 7 and
lastly: Churches and oratories of confraternities and guilds; but
it is not needful to consider this class of minor temples. The
statistics of the clergy who minister in these seven-fold descrip-
tion of churches may here be summarized. The 200,000 souls
in Rome are spiritually served by nigh upon 1,500 priests in-
cluding clerks, bishops, and cardinals or one priest to about
130 to 140 of the faithful. This does not include, however,
3,000 religious, divided amongst 50 congregations of men, many
of whom are in holy orders. Whilst it may be added, in speak-
ing of the population of religious in the Eternal City, that there
are upwards of 2,000 nuns, distributed among 72 convents, in
40 of which solemn vows are taken ; whilst there are 800 semi-
narists and collegians to recruit the ranks of the priesthood as
the clergy, aged or otherwise, pass one by one to their reward.

1895.] THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. 619

THEY ARE BUILT IN MOST OUT-OF-THE-WAY PLACES.

The next thing which attracts the observation of the
Catholic student is the local position of the churches in Rome.
Whether from an architectural or from an engineering point of
view their locality is most varied, in some cases is almost unex-
ampled. Of course, a considerable portion of the edifices are
placed in positions with which we are familiar in other towns,
in the piazza, or street, on a hill-top, or in the bosom of a val-
ley, or in any other commonplace locality. But the temples in
Rome are often found in any but commonplace localities they
are sometimes built in the most out-of-the-way places. The
employment of ancient sites and the utilization of ancient foun-
dations ; the adaptation of former buildings, however apparent-
ly incongruous ; the inequality of levels, high or low, artificial
or accidental or natural ; and the large tracts of country, culti-
vated or desolate, enclosed within the city walls these and many
other peculiarities, more or less apposite or more or less discordant
with the city and its story, give marked peculiarity and empha-
sis to the position in which the Roman churches are built. For
instance : One church is perched at the summit of a lofty flight
of outside marble steps leading to the west front, perhaps 120
or 130 in number; another is reached by a descending stair-
case, leading into the narthex, of perhaps half as many steps,
within the sacred building itself. Some are built so as to afford
architectural effect to the general plan of the neighboring streets
or houses ; others are deposited in spots where these effects are
ignored and the public ways have to be drawn to include the
church, rather than the church being made to harmonize with
the public way. Many are built in places where they cannot
be hid ; many are hid away in places which are hard to be
found. Some are partially buried among the ruins of ancient
Rome, or are wholly underground, or are cut out of a hillside,
or are levelled up from a lower foundation in the valley. Some
are discovered in wild, marshy, malaria-struck wastes without an
inhabitant, now or formerly ; others were once built or utilized
in the midst of a teeming population, where now a few peasants
cultivate their fields at the risk of their lives. Some, appar-
ently, have boldly seized upon ancient heathen temples, sprinkled
them with holy water, and dedicated them to the true worship
of a God no longer unknown ; and some have utilized the
foundations, facade, columns, or other materials of the earlier
building they supplanted, whether an imperial palace, a cata-

620 THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. [Aug.,

comb, a private dwelling, a bath or fountain, a circus or theatre,
a court of law, a public forum, or a common jail. One further
point in the locality of the churches of Rome deserves notice.
In the new edition of Mr. Fergusson's History of Architecture
a list is given of the exact orientation of many of the chief
early churches i. e., of those built in the first thousand years of
the faith. In upwards of a score of sacred buildings within
this limit, two churches only possess a true orientation, St.
Paul's outside the walls and St. Peter ad Vincula. Many face
due west, or west with an inclination either north or south ;
and few have any degree or two of east in their bearings. This
fact was either first observed, or having been observed previously,
was brought more prominently forward by Mr. G. G. Scott in
an essay on early English church architecture. The exact orien-
tation (so to say), however, of some thirty principal churches in
Rome, being ancient, are given by Mr. Fergusson's editor, and the
list is a curious and suggestive one, in view of the strong views
sometimes taken by excellent but ill-instructed persons on this
supposed law of Christianity, that modern Catholics ought to
follow ancient Christians in praying, by the compass, due east.

THE EARLY CHURCHES BASILICAN IN FORM.

Another point in relation to the early churches of Rome
seems not unworthy to be repeated here, from the work of an
architectural scholar. In buildings erected before the year 1000
for purposes connected with Christian worship, says Mr. Nesbitt
in a paper read before the Society of Antiquaries in London,
in 1865, "Rome, the metropolis of Western Christianity, the
centre of civilization, and the seat of the empire, is, as might
be expected, unquestionably richer than any other city ; . . .
and though many examples of the highest interest are to be
found as well in other cities, the series is everywhere far from
being as complete as it is in Rome. Even after so many cen-
turies of vicissitudes of every kind, Rome retains a series of
churches in many cases of ample proportions and of great mag-
nificence the original construction of one or more of which
may be ascribed to almost every half century between A. D.
300 and 1000 ; a series extending through a period the archi-
tectural history of which is almost a blank in Western Europe."
The value of this series of churches, continues Mr. Nesbitt, in
an historical point of view is enhanced by the circumstance that
we possess an extraordinary amount of information as to the
original foundations, additions to, repairs, or reconstruction

1 895.] THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. 621

of these buildings. Of course, these reconstructions more or
less complete, repairs, alterations, and decorations have gone
far to obliterate all characteristic features. Still, after long con-
tinued, repeated, and patient study of almost all the churches
which preserve anything of ancient character, Mr. Nesbitt
has come to the conclusion that the plan on which Chris-
tian churches were built, in the centre of Christendom, " con-
tinued to be substantially the same until and even long after

BASILICA AND CONVENT OF ST. LAWRENCE OUTSIDE THE WALLS.

the year A. D. 1000, the basilican form having been almost inva-
riably adopted, excepting in a few circular or octagonal build-
ings." This position he again enforces later on in his lecture.
He says : " One striking peculiarity presents itself in the history
of Roman church architecture, viz., that in the long period of
eight centuries and a half, between A. D. 300 and 1150, one type as
well of plan as of style prevailed." And that type was Basilican.

HISTORICAL INTEREST CONNECTED WITH THEM.

The historical and personal interests of the churches of
Rome are simply endless. It will be possible only to take the
merest and hastiest glance at them in this place. In the cases
of Christian temples built on the ruins of ancient Rome the
associations are world-wide and carry back the student to times
long anterior to the birth of our Lord. In the case of those

622 THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. [Aug.,

which have a distinctly Christian and individual origin, the mem-
ories are connected with many, if not with most of the great
events and the workers in them which tend to make the story
of Western Christendom. From the days of the catacombs, to
the years of Rome's imperial majesty, to the times of her gra-
dual decline, not to speak of her actual fall, to each century,
some would say to every fifty years, may be allotted a share
in the creation of church architecture, its growth, its develop-
ment, its change, if only in regard to the sites and foundations
of existing monuments. The apostolic leaders, the sub-apostolic
disciples, the Greek-speaking bishops, the early Latin pontiffs, the
emperors and p'opes of the middle age, the public and private
builders of the Renaissance, and the debased rebuilders and
renovators, the restorers and deformers of the post-Reformation
and later periods all are represented in existing fanes. Some
with credit to themselves and their handiwork, and some with
discredit and even blame. Amongst all these the late occu-
pant of the Throne of Peter, Pio Nono, of pious memory,
has perhaps surpassed all his predecessors in the extent, the
magnificence, the lavish cost, and, for the most part, the good
taste of the restoration of ancient work effected during his pon-
tificate ; and the reign of the present Holy Father compares
favorably with many another's tenure of spiritual power, by
reason of the material additions made to the ecclesiastical
architecture of Rome in the nineteenth century.

THEY PERPETUATE NOTABLE EVENTS IN SUB-APOSTOLIC TIMES.

In these historical and personal associations there is no need
to travel back to pre-Christian times. Early post-Christian
records, to which in the main attention will be drawn, overflow
with deep and wide-spread interest. Here we find a church
built over the spot where the Prince of the Apostles was cruci-
fied, and out of humility and reverence was crucified with his
head downwards; here another, where the Apostle to the Gen-
tiles suffered decapitation, the places where the severed head
fell and rolled being marked and reverenced ; here a third, near
the place where the Apostle of Love, martyr in will, not in
deed, escaped bodily martyrdom at the Latin gate of the city.
Not unnaturally, the houses and resorts and localities honored
by the presence of the saints of God even once became sites
on which future temples were consecrated for Catholic usage.
The house of the centurion where St. Paul lived as prisoner;
the house of the senator, Pudens, with whom St. Peter lodged

1 895.] THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. 623

for seven years, and whose two daughters, SS. Pudentiana and
Prassede, the saint baptized ; the house of St. Prisca, in which
the mistress was baptized by St. Peter ; the house and oratory
of St. Clement, bishop of the city, on the walls of whose church
the story of St. Alexius (to whom another temple is dedi-
cated) is told in fresco ; the house of St. Cecilia and the bath
of martyrdom, with all its touching and tragic domestic and
ecclesiastical memories all these became sites of churches in
the first five centuries of the faith. Again, we find a church
on the Appian Way to commemorate the spot where Christ met
St. Peter fleeing from persecution and replied to his servant's
question, " Domine quo vadis "; another commemorating where
St. Lawrence, the deacon, (i) distributed alms, (2) was tried, (j)
suffered execution, and (4) was buried ; a third where Costanza,
daughter of Constantine, was both baptized and buried ; and
two more where St. Agnes, the child of fourteen summers, was
burnt alive, and where she now reposes, and where to this day
two lambs are offered yearly on her festival in her honor. Nor
are these all that may be named whose memories are venerated
and honored by being mentioned in the canon of the Mass
e. g., SS. Cosmas and Damian, physicians who suffered under
Diocletian ; SS. John and Paul, not apostles, but court offi-
cers, done to death by Julian the Apostate ; SS. Nereus and
Achilleus ; St. Chrysogonus, and St. Anastasia names each
one which bring to mind some sacred shrine with special
memory and peculiar outline as they are repeated in divine
worship.

AND LATER ON.

Descending the stream of time, we find a church built on
the site of the abode of St. Paula, who hospitably entertained
St. Jerome in 390, when he was called to Rome from the East ;
a church on the site of the house of St. Gregory the Great,
from the steps of which St. Augustine of Canterbury took his
last farewell of the pontiff, and another which contains the
chair from which the same great saint was wont to deliver his
Morals on the Book of Job ; a church dedicated to St. Augus-
tine of Hippo, late indeed, but commemorating an early saint,
which contains the remains of the devoted mother of a devoted
son, St. Monica, who died at Ostia. Later again, we find
churches or chapels in memory of the two saintly brothers who
rivalled each other in their work for souls, SS. Dominic and
Francis, founders of the preaching and mendicant orders of the
thirteenth century ; in the gardens of the convents of St. Saba

624 THE CITY OF THE SOUL AND ITS CHURCHES. [Aug.,

and of St. Francesco are orange-trees said to have been
planted by these saints, and in a chapel of the former the two
saints passed the night together in prayer. Later again, there
is a church founded by the comparatively modern saint, the
gentle, loving, and devoted Philip Neri, in the sixteenth cen-
tury ; there are churches which form or did form the head-
quarters of the Company of Jesus, the Gesu, and St. Ignatius,
with many memories enshrined in them ; there is an early
church rededicated to that pious lady and matron and very
interesting character, St. Francesca Romana ; and there are
three or four connected with that great saint and bishop,
restorer and administrator, the founder of the Congregation of
the Oblates whom the late Cardinal Manning was instrumental
in introducing into England St. Carlo Borromeo.

Of necessity, no allusion has been made or can be made to
the personal or historical associations of the five great patri-
archal basilicas. Time and space would fail even to summarize
them St. John Lateran, the mother and head of all churches,
as it proudly and truly calls itself ; St. Mary Major, perhaps
the completest specimen of a Christian church in all its details ;
St. Lawrence, with its many features of an early basilica
church, including its triforium galleries, most if not all of which
have been restored with judgment and taste ; St. Paul without
the walls, the finest modern specimen of a basilica church with
monolithic columns and four aisles ; and the present represen-
tative church of the Roman See and Pontiff, with all its memor-
ies of the Papacy from early times to the present day the
church of which it has been premised that nothing shall be
here said, its size and its wealth and its relations and its story
being all too vast to be compressed St. Peter in the Vatican.
Of this wonderful and unique fane perhaps no truer or nobler
words have been written in verse than those of one who knew
more and better than he either did or said Byron :

" But thou, of temples old, or altars new,

Standest alone, with nothing like to thee

Worthiest of God, the holy and the true.
Since Zion's desolation, when that He

Forsook his former city, what could be,
Of earthly structures, in his honor piled,

Of a sublimer aspect ? Majesty,

Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty all are aisled
In this eternal ark of worship undefiled."

I89S-]

To PHIDIAS.

625

TO PHIDIAS.

BY ALBERT REYNAUD.
I.

PHIDIAS ! thou may'st chisel all the

lines of grace :
There's no skill in limning but dull Time

will efface ;
Not bronze nor close-grained granite doth

retain
A single marvel wrought by thy inspired

brain.

But comfort thee, O limner ! though in

primal dust

Man's workings weak or mighty soon encrumble must,
On Time itself, destroyer, through its flame,
See ! carved, reflect for ever, thy immortal name.

On Time itself, dissolving as it slowly goes

The monument most ancient and the last blown rose,

Retinted rests the handiwork of each,

Succeeding eras all its beauty still to teach.

Yea better than thou knewest, mark, the deed is done
E'en as thy chisel listless dropped at set of sun :
Its disembodied purpose doth survive
To keep the mem'ry of thy fame through age alive.

II.

Hewing, thou seemed but shifting from their anch'ring-place
Aimless atoms, wind-blown to waft away apace :
Cleft by thy magic, lo ! there stood revealed
An immortality which now to thee they yield.

For thou hadst rent in cleaving, oped to human view,
A drapery of the Beautiful which peering through,
Irradiant hence whatever else betides,
Upon each sculptured deed of man since then abides.

To thee as to a few that highest gift was given :
Thou didst transplant to earth a particle of Heaven ;
Though all things fair evanescent perish,
Once known for ever Beauty's self we encherish.
VOL LXI. 40

626 To PHIDIAS. [Aug.,

So thus, though lovely things in turn will pass away,
If all material figments did on earth decay,
Thou own'st a name among the chosen few
Which love-lorn loveliness would syllable anew !

III.

As erst upon the waters did the Spirit breathe,
And, from abysmal chaos surging, life did seethe,
So now to human sprite doth God impart
A measure of the magic of creative art.

To breathe in matter meaning, the mute mass transform
And with perennial purpose its still lips inform-
To mould a divine image out of clay-
Seems of omnipotence but a diminished ray.

O Art ! of Spirit and of Matter marriage bells !
The mystery of their union artist high-priest tells,
Sings, paints and pictures to his fellow-men,
Who whisper wonder-stricken evermore, Amen !

Their happy marriage bells, ay ! their love-words he spells,

While the great human heart a-billowing upswells

To meet him and to greet him, and it sighs

As Time on-speeding past returns him to the skies.

IV.

Ah ! better yet, great Phidias, brightly as to thee

To all of us betokened, lej: the lesson be :

The work may die, the doer and the deed

Own measure none but worth ; and that immortal meed.

Aback concealing crust creation through, each-where
Its Maker hath inlaid the true, the good and fair,
That man may yearning strive with high design
And with has own-made fabric earn the goal divine.

Nay more ; to modest merit also as to great

Th' inspiring promise holds of God's designing fate ;

The soft word told, the cup of water given,

The curtains of the skies have evermore up-riven.

And thus surviveth Spirit ; and its slightest breath,
Imperishable, knoweth never aught of death :
The humblest deed, to-day enshrined in tears,
Endiamonded will shine through all th' eternal years !

AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST.

627

AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST.

EMPRONIA," said Mr. Willard to his wife, as he
entered the breakfast parlor, " I have to insist
that you shunt that obstinate, stupid girl whom
you will persist in having about the place. She
is the plague of my life."
" Do you mean Nora Bailey, Ezra?" queried Mrs. Willard
sharply, as she looked up from the morning paper and removed
her gold-rimmed glasses to get a better look at the partner of
her joys and sorrows. He was, truth to tell, not very much
to look at. A very attenuated man of medium height and no
appreciable breadth, white-haired and very straight at that, and
very hard and sour-looking and furrowed and channelled as to
face. She herself was the reverse of this, in many particulars.
She was tall and robust in figure, but angular and sharp in
feature. The severity of her face showed a woman born to
command and to see that her commands were respected as
well.

" Nora Bailey I mean, and, seeing that she is the only wo-
man help about the place, I wonder you can feel any doubt
about the identity," Mr. Willard retorted with precision and
asperity.

" Then, Mr. Willard, I have to say that I shall do nothing
of the kind," the lady rejoined with unbending dignity. %" Nora
Bailey suits me, and suits our financial circumstances, which I
cannot describe as exactly princely, owing to your peculiar ideas
on domestic economy," she added in a tone which could hardly
be mistaken for that of tenderness.

" Well, then, since you must have her, let her be kept out
of my dressing-room. I cannot go fooling around every day
looking for my shaving things, which she cannot be got to leave
where I put them, just to humor your predilections or her ideas
of location," snapped Mr. Willard, as he planted himself at the
table and prepared to swallow his ire along with his morning
meal.

The Willards lived in a handsome house at Riverside, by the
Hudson. The house was a detached one. It stood in the cen-
tre of a little plantation, on the plateau of a broad boulder of

628 AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. [Aug.,

that brown-gray gneiss out of which the modern New York up-
town has been tunnelled. From its windows a couple of for-
lorn and ramshackle squatters' shanties were visible. One such
shanty had been levelled to make room for the Willard man-
sion, which bore the lordly title of " The Giralda." And here-
by hangs a tale. For it was from the family of the dispossessed
squatter that Nora Bailey came. Her mother had died from
exposure and grief after the eviction ; her father had disap-
peared, nobody knew whither. He had been at the best of
times but an idle fellow, leaving to his wife and little Nora the
cultivation of the vegetable patch on the vacant lot which had
been the main support of the family. Whatever money he got
now and again for odd jobs he generally invested where the
family would get no good from it.

Nora was running wild when Mrs. Willard picked her up.
That good lady was an active member of a rescue society, a
strict church-goer, and an uncompromising advocate of perfect
equality for her sex. Moreover, she was the owner of the
house in which she and her weaker half resided. She had built
" The Giralda " with her own money, but ere doing so had
taken all the necessary steps to prevent its alienation under any
pretext from her own grasp. She named it " The Giralda " be-
cause to call mansions after foreign places and persons is con-
sidered a distinctively American evidence of good taste and
cultivation.

Mrs. Willard did not claim to have a prophetic soul in em-
barking on this transaction. Had she had any misgivings about
Ezra Willard's permanent financial security she would have sac-
rificed her affection on the altar of duty, and remained Miss
Sempronia Smith. The sacrifice might have been made without
much risk.

The dawn of a new enlightenment has effected a change in
many things. The foolish rule of the heart which enslaved the
world so long has given place to the rule of the head. Mrs.
Willard was one of those women who would never become a
slave to her own inclinations. A strict New England Puritan,
she admired Mr. Willard because he was an eminently respecta-
ble man and a pleasing talker, and one who was well-to-do.
But she would not have married him were not the latter condi-
tion existent ; for with all her notions about perfect equality of
the sexes she deemed it to be a man's duty to maintain his
wife in suitable state and dignity.

She had an annuity as well as a solid sum. These safe-

1 89 5.] AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. 629

guards against poverty she took good care should be hers what-
ever way the wind blew. She had read law and knew exactly
what her status as a married woman was ; and that status she
was just the sort of woman to maintain.

One day there came an awful crash in Wall Street. " Cor-
dage " went by the board, and numbers of big firms went with
it. Mr. Willard and his partner were principal sufferers. Next
morning a notice was affixed to the door intimating to all whom
it might concern that the estate was in liquidation. Mr. Wil-
lard emerged from the liquidation minus everything but his
good name and an insurance policy which secured him a thou-
sand dollars per annum after he was past sixty. He was now
past sixty, else he would not have had a cent to live on.

In these circumstances Mrs. Willard showed herself a true
heroine. She saw the path of duty clearly. She was enabled
through her foresight to offer Mr. Willard a permanently shel-
tering roof when he had none of his own, and afford him the
pleasure of seeing that his wife was above the reach of want.
Her annuity went, after she had provided for her wants in the
way of dress and miscellaneous matters, into the bank with its
accustomed regularity.

On the shoulders of Mr. Willard now devolved the onus of
maintaining his establishment and demonstrating some impor-
tant problems in domestic economy. A consequence of this
demonstration was a reduction of the retinue of the establish-
ment to one permanent help and a woman who came in once a
week to chore and " fix up things." The permanent help was
little Nora Bailey.

Nature had been kind to Nora, if the fates were not. Only
for the color of her hair, which was a decided shade beyond
the Titian auburn, she would have been considered a comely
little maiden. She was blue-eyed and rosy-lipped, and had a
delicate, semi-transparent skin. She was at times all gaiety, at
others all sulks. When sulky she was dogged, and when dogged
immovable in her purposes to do or not to do, as the occasion
demanded.

Nora had been brought up in all the errors of Popery.
This drawback had given Mrs. Willard some trouble at first
when she brought her to her own fashionable church and got
her placed among the Sunday-school children. Nora proved
fractious, but a judicious course of candy and admonitory lec-
tures, with threats of being put out on the streets, served to
overcome her obstinacy in the end.

630 AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. [Aug.,

It is but just to Nora's spirit of obstinacy to interplead that
it had not at this period attained its full maturity, else the
threat might hardly have availed. She was barely seven years
old when Mrs. Willard first picked her up, and her opportuni-
ties for acquiring religious knowledge had been few indeed.
She had never been sent to school, and what notion she had
of spiritual things was derived from the crude teaching of her
mother, who, poor soul ! was not the best-instructed herself and
had little beyond her simple piety. Hence Nora was a com-
paratively easy conquest for Mrs. Willard, although she sulked
and looked savage when she found at first that she must not
make the sign of the cross or say the " Hail, Mary " when in the
Sunday-school.

But soon the friction died away, and as the years went on
Nora grew quite accustomed to her new cult, and nearly for-
got all about her old training.

Such was the position of affairs when a new parish was
formed in the district, owing to the growth of the Catholic
population, and a zealous yoiing levite, Father Devereux, was
given it in charge. He was returning one evening after making
a sick-call when he was attracted by the vehement actions of
two individuals who stood talking and gesticulating under a
lamp at the very end of the street, away down at the River-
side Drive.

One of these was a man ; the other a girl. The man was
speaking loudly ; he was violent in his gestures, and he had
hold of the girl by the arm. She was endeavoring to break
away, and her voice, though not loud, betrayed excitement and
passion.

Father Devereux stood at the corner of a cross-street watch-
ing them, fearful lest there might be some necessity for his
intervention ; but this did not prove to be the case. The girl at
length shook herself free and walked swiftly away, and the man,
seeing the priest step out into the light only a few yards ahead,
stopped short and turned back towards the river.

Father Devereux waited for the girl to come up. Then he
spoke to her in a voice so full of pity and sympathy that she
was at once drawn to him. " Be not afraid to confide in me,
my child," he said ; " for you see I am a priest. Tell me what
is the trouble."

A flood of early recollections seemed to sweep over Nora
Bailey's mind for it was she when she heard the tender invi-
tation. All at once it rushed on her that she had been taught

1895.] AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. 631

by her mother that a priest was one to whom anything could
be confided in the certainty that never would it be disclosed to
mortal ear, if given under the seal of confession. She deter-
mined to confide in Father Devereux ; she could not have resist-
ed the impulse if she would. In a few words she told him of
her desire, and he at once brought her along to the presbytery
and listened to her story.

"Go back now, Nora," he said when all was revealed;
"return to your duties, and stand fast by your master and mis-
tress. But on no account ever again attend their Sunday-school
or their services, but come to me and I will instruct you in
your own religion. Do you promise ? "

" I do," replied Nora, " and I will keep my promise if it cost
me my life."

Such was the position about a week before the brief dialogue
noted at the outset took place between the sleeping and the
working partners in the Willard establishment. The subject of
the rencontre appeared just as Mr. Willard had saved his honor
in capitulating by burning his last cartridge. She had come in
obedience to Mrs. Willard's summons to wait at table as usual.

Bright and neat in her dress as on other mornings, there
was yet something about Nora which the keen eye or the un-
accountable instinct of Mrs. Willard at once detected as an
unwonted symptom. She thought there was the faintest sign
of a lurking trouble, a secret of some kind, about the corners
of the mouth and the trend of the curved brows. Nora was
always reserved, though cheerful, while going through her daily
duties, only speaking when she was addressed, though when in
her own room she was often heard singing as gaily as a linnet.
This gave her a serious expression. But to-day Mrs. Willard
thought she perceived a deepening of the tone by several
shades.

She made no remark about this just then, but she only post-
poned what she considered the exercise of her legitimate right
as a sort of guardian ad litem in regard to her maid-of-all-work
until after Mr. Willard should have departed for his favorite
haunts in the precincts of Wall Street. For though he had no
longer any veritable business in this region, he could not tear
himself away from the spot, but hovered around it like a dis-
embodied spirit.

Mr. Willard was one of those double-action ruminants who
satisfy mind and body at breakfast-time. He preferred to hold
converse with his newspaper rather than with Mrs. Willard, and

632 AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. [Aug.,

the boorishness had a negatively beneficial effect at times. It
made him forget his previous asperity, whenever this did not
happen to have taken an aggravated shape. On this occasion
he had not been many minutes plunged into its maddening
vortex of spicy headlines ere he uttered a semi-profane exclama-
tion and laid the paper on the nearest vacant plate.

" A burglary last night at ' The Willows ' that's a close call,
Sempronia ! " gasped Mr. Willard with the face of a man be-
holding the opening of the Seventh Seal.

" Mercy me, Ezra, but it is sure ! " echoed Mrs. Willard,
likewise forgetting in her alarm the strained relations which
only just previously had been informally established. " What
did they lose, I wonder?"

" Plate, jewelry, and other valuable things, valued at eleven
hundred dollars," answered Mr. Willard. " The police are, as
usual, on the track of the burglar and there they'll remain, I
guess," he added with an air of triumphant irony. "They're in
the swim themselves, more likely, and they're hardly going to
' peach ' on their partners."

" How dreadful ! What if they should break in here ? "
gasped Mrs. Willard.

" Well they can't get much worth removing here, only your
bank-book, and they do not handle that line of goods as a rule,"
sneered Mr. Willard.

" But they're not to know that. They must be under the
impression that the house contains the usual stock of valuables,"
pointed out Mrs. Willard. " Oh ! if they break in they might
be tempted to murder us if they could not find anything to
carry off."

" If you think so why not draw some money and lay in a
stock large enough to satisfy the reasonable expectations of
people of enterprise ? " suggested Mr. Willard. " Either that, or
sell out the place and let us take a flat over at Central Park."

" No," said Mrs. Willard, thoughtfully. " I do not think we
need resort to such desperate alternatives. Mrs. Marks has a
very ferocious bull-dog which she would like to get rid of. I'll
take the brute from her and let it roam about here at night."

"A ferocious bull-dog! Mrs. Willard, are you becoming in-
sane? Who is to.be the keeper of such a dangerous brute?
Who is to tie it up and let it loose and look after it? And
what is to prevent it attacking us as well as the unsuspecting
burglar?" catechised Mr. Willard in spasms of utter amaze-
ment.

1895-] AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. 633

"Well, this is a little difficulty, certainly," conceded Mrs.
Willard. " I had not quite foreseen these possibilities. You of
course would not like to undertake the responsibility ; and
Nora, I suppose, knows nothing of the care of bull-dogs. But
it may be got over. There's Dennick, the milkman. I'll speak
to him. He brings a large dog in his cart, and he must know
something of these matters. Yes, I'll have a talk with Den-
nick."

Here this important matter rested for the time being. Mr.
Willard soon afterwards set out for the platonic haunts of his
day-dreams, and Mrs. Willard sought out the cool shades below
where Nora was busy with the daily work of the household.

Mrs. Willard was hardly able to resist the impulse to tell
her handmaiden about the burglar. Only the fear that it might
impel Nora to run away prevented her, but it was a great
effort. About the bull-dog it might be necessary to say some-
thing, she thought, and what that something should be was a
matter of difficulty. She determined to rely on the system of
approach by covered way.

"It has just struck me, Nora," she began, "that I missed
you last Sunday at church. Were you there ? "

" No, ma'am," Nora faltered, coloring and averting her head
slightly. She was not quite prepared for such a sudden on-
slaught.

" I suppose you weren't well enough to go, but I didn't
hear you complain of anything. I wish you would tell me
whenever anything is the matter. It does not look well for
regular church-members to absent themselves without assigning
cause."

" If you please, ma'am," replied Nora, facing around with a
set look on her face, " I wish to say just this : I hope you
will excuse me

"Oh, yes!" interrupted Mrs. Willard, "of course I will. I
don't want to talk any more about that just now, but I wish
to ask you are you afraid of dogs bull-dogs, for instance?"

"Bull-dogs! yes, ma'am ; I'd run ten miles from a bull-dog.
But as I was saying about going to church

" Yes, but if the choice were between a bull-dog and a
burglar what would you do ? Suppose you knew that a burglar
was preparing to get in here, would you not like to have a
good fierce bull-dog to protect you ? "

" Lord save us, ma'am ! sure one is nearly as bad as the
other," faltered Nora, turning very pale. Fearful lest her mis-

634 AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. [Aug.,

tress might misconstrue this sign of agitation, she by a violent
effort mastered herself, and went on :

" I wish to say right here, ma'am, about going to church

She paused, half-frightened at the temerity of the step she
was about to take.

" Well, what about going to church, girl ? I wish you would
get through with that, for I have something to say something
very particular on the subject of a bull-dog as a watch for this
house."

" Well, it is just this, ma'am," replied Nora desperately. " It
is not my intention to go to that church any more."

" Indeed ! And why not, pray ? I guess you'll go to the
church I tell you to," observed Mrs. Willard promptly. "What
objection have you taken to it ? "

" Well, it isn't a Catholic church, ma'am, and I'm a Catho-
lic," answered Nora bravely. " Whenever I go to church in
future it will be to a Catholic church."

An announcement that the Statue of Liberty had jumped
from Bedloe's Island into Central Park could hardly have
worked such a miracle of wonder as this declaration of war on
the part of Mrs. Willard's " help." The good lady was posi-
tively stricken speechless for several seconds a thing unprece-
dented in her waking hours. She looked at Nora as though
she were the Medusa.

"A Catholic church! Well, if this is not brazen impudence
and black ingratitude a Catholic church, no less ! And after
all I've done for such an outcast ! "

" I'm very sorry, ma'am, for indeed you have been good to
me ; but ' began Nora.

"No 'buts' or 'becauses' for me, you little ingrate ! Either
you go to church where I tell you or you pack up your traps
and march as soon as I've got another girl," stormed Mrs.
Willard imperiously. Burglars and bull-dogs were now quite
forgotten. They were only trivial things ; here was a tremen-
dous imperial event the first of the kind ever known in the
Willard household.

In strong contrast to this excitement was the manner in
which Nora heard the announcement of her punishment. Now
that she had blurted out her resolve, a dead calm succeeded
her trepidation. She replied almost cheerfully:

" Very good, ma'am, I'm ready to go whenever it suits you;
but I'm not going to give up my religion to suit anybody.
God would not pardon me if I did."

1 895.] AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. 635

" And when did you make this discovery, pray ? " sneered
Mrs. Willard, changing her tone and condescending to argue.
" When did you find out that the church and the religion that
are good enough for Mr. Willard and me are not good enough
for you ? "

" I did not know much about it until lately, ma'am,"
answered Nora quietly ; " but now I know that it is neither you
nor Mr. Willard that God will hold accountable for my salva-
tion, but myself, now that I have been shown that I have not
been going the right way."

Mrs. Willard bit her lip to stifle her chagrin. Truth to tell
she was at a loss for a satisfactory answer to such a plea as
this. The right of individual judgment was the strong plank of
her own creed. How, then, could she consistently debar her
"help" from claiming the same right for herself?

" Well, you are hardly old enough to judge properly," she
answered after a pause. u When you are of age, of course
that is, if you remain with me you are at liberty to go where
you please to worship. But inasmuch as you have been brought
up, as I may say, in this family, you ought in common grati-
tude to go where I wish you."

" I would do anything else you wished me, ma'am," replied
Nora, " to show that I am not unmindful of what you've done
for me anything in reason. But my first duty is to God, and
I can't do as you ask me."

Mrs. Willard could not trust herself to hear more. She
swept out of the room in a towering passion. Soon she left
the house, and before evening returned, bearing the tidings
that a new girl was to be there in the morning and Nora was
then to get her tiny stipend and go.

Homeless once more ! Homeless !

When she was a morsel of unthinking humanity, a mere
giddy semi-savage waif, eight or nine years before, she hardly
knew the meaning of the word. She got a crust and a drink
here and there, and often slept as well curled up under the
stairs in some hallway as the lady in her bed of down. But
now she was a growing girl, and had begun to think and get a
glimmering of the meaning of life. Now, indeed, it was no
laughing matter to find herself without a home.

There was but one being in the world to whom she could
now turn. Father Devereux had urged her to come and seek
his counsel if she ever found herself in trouble. The trouble
was nearer than he or she deemed. But she determined to

636 AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. [Aug.,

seek him, and, oh ! how fervently she thanked God that such a
resource was open to her.

She slipped out after her day's toil was over and sought the
good priest. His heart was deeply touched when he heard of
this sudden trial of poor Nora's constancy, but he cheered her
up and bade her be of good heart ; he would see that she was
placed with decent people until she got another situation.

Thus encouraged, Nora now looked her fate bravely in the
face. It was sweet to have the consciousness that she was doing
something for conscience' sake something also for her own in-
dependence.

Next day the new girl came, and in the evening Nora took
her departure. Mrs. Willard in the coldest and most formal
manner paid her the' trifle she owed her, and did not say a
single word in the way of farewell a fact which cut poor Nora,
well as she knew the reason, to the quick. After so many years,
she thought, she might at least have said "good-by" in kind-
ness.

Next evening, after dusk, Father Devereux, who had been
very busy in his church all the afternoon, called around to see
how his little charge was faring in her new quarters. He met
her at the corner of the street, walking very rapidly, and a
single glance at her face, as the light of a lamp fell on it, re-
vealed the fact that she was laboring under some great excite-
ment. In answer to the good priest's anxious query she gasped :
*' Oh, he has been around again, Father Devereux ! I met him
near the old place this evening, and he is bent on something
wicked. I must go and warn the Willards, no matter what
comes. I cannot forget that they have been kind to me so
long in the past. O father ! will you not pray for me ? "

" With all my heart I will, indeed, my dear child," he replied.
" You are right to do your duty, no matter what the conse-
quences. May God watch over you ! "

It was pitch dark when Nora reached " The Giralda." The
house was approached by a short avenue that curved around
the mass of rock on which the building stood. A high paling
surrounded the place, enclosing a considerable-sized shrubbery
as well as a grass-plot and garden. The lights were all out,
for Mrs. Willard was a rigid economist now, and nine o'clock
was the latest hour a glimmer was to be seen about the whole
place.

How to gain admittance or make known her mission without
attracting too much attention was now the crux for Nora. She

1 89 5.] AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. 637

had not sufficiently thought of that. Moreover, there was an-
other object to be accomplished which rendered the task she
had undertaken peculiarly difficult and hazardous.

Whilst she stood outside the gate, irresolute and doubtful
what course to take, she heard a noise as of some one climbing
the palisading at the side, and straining her eyes in that direc-
tion she dimly discerned a moving mass which she knew must
be a human figure creeping cautiously over the barrier. Then
she heard the thud of feet on the grass as the figure dropped
to the ground on the other side.

Knowing now that there was not an instant to be lost if
she would carry out her purpose, she scrambled lightly over the
low gate in front and began to run swiftly up the little
avenue.

All at once she was startled by hearing the sound of some-
thing plunging heavily through the bushes, and then there was
a half-smothered cry of pain and rage and an oath of a horrible
kind. The voice was that of a man.

Then there came a series of scurrying, tearing sounds as if
a tussle for life were going on in the shrubbery.

"There, take that, you brute!" the man's voice broke in
savagely. " If you've got a piece of my leg, I guess you'll
never get another."

A horrible sound, half bark, half howl, broke forth as he
spoke. It was the first sound that made itself audible, and in
a moment a light appeared at one of the windows and streamed
out upon the scene.

Nora looked up. She saw Mr. Willard stretching out of
the window with something in his hand. The light fell upon
the place where the struggle was going on. It showed the
form of a man grappling with a huge, savage-looking white bull-
dog, that still held its grip tenaciously despite the blood that
leaped from its neck in great spurts.

As the light struck the scene of combat Nora saw Mr.
Willard raise his weapon. With a shriek she rushed forward
within the circle of light, and called out :

" O Mr. Willard ! do not fire, for the love of God. I will
get him away if you leave him alone. Oh ! don't, please

But she had spoken too late. The weapon was levelled
almost before she had begun to speak, and the shot struck, not
the burglar but her who pleaded for his life ! A gurgling
sound was heard in her throat as she sank to the ground.
The dog had fallen too, dying from loss of blood. Released

638 AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. [Aug.,

from its deadly grip, the marauder sank on his knees beside
the wounded girl. Then, flinging his hands wildly to heaven, he
poured forth a torrent of maddened imprecations upon his own
miserable soul. He cursed the hour that he was born, only to
be the murderer, as he regarded it, of his own child.

" Oh, don't, father! Thank God, rather, that you have been
spared to get away and repent. Oh, if you would only repent,
how gladly would I die ! " gasped the girl. " Go now, while you
can they will soon be after you if you do not fly," she urged.

But she pleaded in vain. He seemed deaf to all she said.
He could only gaze at her white face as he tried to stop the
flow of blood from her lips with a rag of a handkerchief, and
continue to heap despairing maledictions on his own head.

Thus he went on, while Nora, with her fast-ebbing strength,
implored him to seek his own safety, when a heavy hand was
laid upon his shoulder, and the light of a policeman's lantern
flashed into his face.

Other figures then emerged from the gloom passers-by who
had been attracted by the shot. They bore the wounded girl
into the house, and the policeman followed with his prisoner,
that he might hear what she had to say, should she recover the
power of speech.

She had swooned away and lay for a long time unconscious
on a seat in the hall. Mr. and Mrs. Willard, who had hastily
dressed themselves, stood by wonderingly.

At length Nora opened her eyes and seemed to realize how
events had gone. Then she spoke ; the words coming from
her lips in gasps and after long intervals.

Mrs. Willard's heart seemed somewhat softened at sight of
the girl's pitiable plight.

" I came here to warn you," she gasped, in reply to Mrs.
Willard's queries. "He let me know that he was going to to
rob the house, thinking I was still here, and that I'd be too
frightened to refuse to let him in when he tapped at my
window. But I was determined to save him from the crime
and you from the danger if I could. Be merciful to him for
he is my father. May God forgive him too, and open his
heart to repentance ! "

Father Devereux soon arrived on the scene. Nora had re-
quested that he be sent for, and the Willards, little as they
liked the sight of a priest, had not the bad grace to refuse him
admittance. How great a shock he sustained when he saw his
poor little prottgte, whom he had only a little while before

1 895.] AN INCORRIGIBLE RECIDIVIST. 639

seen so full of life and hope, was known only to himself. He
consoled her as best he could, and smoothed her passage over
the great chasm with beautiful reminders of God's promises to
the pure and the dutiful.

" You will pray for my poor father, and try to get him to
give up his bad life, will you not ? " she asked.

" Yes, my child ; but you will pray for him better. You will
be able to pray to God himself face to face, and the angels
will join in with you," he replied, stroking her trembling hand
and smoothing the disordered ripples over her pallid brow.

She thanked him, not in words, for she had spoken her last,
but with a look that spoke of infinite gratitude and peace of
spirit, and then, with a faint gasp and a sigh, the head sank
upon his shoulder whilst the soul winged its way to its Maker.

" She was not so incorrigible as I thought," whispered Mrs.
Wi'llard in awe-stricken tones to her husband, as the priest
gently closed the girl's eyes and crossed her fingers over the
crucifix which he had at the last moment pressed to her lips.
"I fear I was wrong to send her away."

" I always said so," he replied shortly. " She was a good
girl, and her religion was her own affair entirely."

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

BY HENRY HEDGES NEVILLE.

HY go to Europe ? So questioned my friend when
I told him of a projected trip abroad during
which I was to enjoy my vacation. Better, said
he, take a run through the North-west, which
you know somewhat and upon whose beauties
you so constantly harp. You are seeking rest as well as pleas-
ure. Why go gadding through picture-galleries ; poking about
in the hotels of the Continent, whose rooms are stuffy, whose
beds are musk-smelling, whose furniture is old and rickety,
whose hangings are dowdyish and reek with the smell of a cen-
tury's use, where you will find no rest and but little pleasure ?
Seek the great open of the glorious far West to the north,
where there is sunlight and air, and the sense of freedom, and
cooling breezes, beauteous scenery, and all else that can give
rest and pleasure ; where nature paints for you a picture so
wondrously beautiful that no man can reproduce it on canvas.
Why go to Europe ? The question turned itself over and
over in my mind, and so in the end I sought the North-west
and now wish to tell you of my trip.

A railway journey from New York to Chicago to one who
travels a great deal is apt to be uneventful. You take your
place in the sleeper ; open your hand-grip ; get out your novel

I895-]

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

641

and travelling-cap ; securely place your hat on that brass con-
trivance above, which you may reach if happily you are six
feet tall with a long arm, otherwise you climb for it ; take the
daily papers from your overcoat pocket and arrange them with
your new magazine and the novel you intend to read on the
seat in front of you ; take a survey of the car and its occupants,
and well, you are in Chicago presently.

The same smoke-blown Chicago. The same great wondrous
town, with its rush, its mud ; its palaces and hovels one against
the other ; its abominable streets ; its magnificent boulevards ;
its great hotels fronted and made shabby by that park of rail-
way switch-yards directly facing them, the ugliness of which
even the beautiful lake beyond cannot compensate for. But
you rest well, for they know how to take care of you in those
great hotels by the lake-front, and how to feed you, and how to
make you feel at home, too ; calling you by name before you
register, for you have stopped here on other occasions. At
your direction they have purchased your ticket and berth on
sleeper for the North-west and charged the same on your hotel
bill, and have checked your baggage from your room, and have
your cab waiting for you at the right moment, and speed your

;

UP THE RHINE OF AMERICA.

parting with as much courtesy as though you were indeed a
guest, and not a veritable bird of passage using their great cara-
vansary with all its comforts and luxury for a very short period
of rest. You pay for it of course, but it is all worth every
dollar you spend.

Your trip from New York to Chicago, uneventful, will
VOL. LXI. 41

642

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

[Aug.,

have its counterpart from Chicago to Omaha, though it will
not prove quite so dull. In the first place, your companions
of travel are more inclined to conversation, though strangers to
you. In the second place, when you have retired, you find an
electric light just over your pillow and you may indulge in the
luxury of reading as you recline in bed ; and you sweep into
Omaha before you have finished your morning toilet because

AWAY TO THE WEST.

you were very late in turning off that electric lamp and so had
not sleep enough, and in consequence late in getting up. But
you are done with the railway world for a time you are in
Omaha. Stately Omaha ! well built, well paved, beautifully situ-
ated. City of glorious days of sunshine, of luminous nights, of
bracing breezes, neither hot nor chill, that soothe and allure
you, that invigorate and refresh you. Golden Omaha ! the very
heart of the great commonwealth of Nebraska. The gate beau-
tiful through which to enter into the land of freer life and
splendid energy. A city of great hearts and great intellects
newspapers edited by brainy men ; libraries well filled and
temple-like as to the buildings that house them.

A city of great industries, chief among them one sustained
and carried on by Irish-American energy and thought. And
what a pleasure to meet these gentlemen when you, an open-
eyed tenderfoot devoured by curiosity, arriving at their office
in the firm's carnage, sent to fetch you, find them so courteous,
so painstaking to show you their food-producing mart, as if the
day, any and every part of it, was at their disposal for you.
Golden Omaha ! so instinct with Catholic life ; so nobly pro-
vided with churches, schools, colleges, hospitals, and lands for
future sites of religious temples. Guided and ruled as to its

i8 9 5.]

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

643

Catholic life by a broad-minded prelate who loves the great
North-west as he loves life itself; seconded by a noble clergy,
young indeed, but whose very youth is an index of what oppor-
tunity has done for them as they bent their energy to the
work. Golden Omaha ! It was like a golden city on a golden
hill lifted on a golden plain. The ripened corn was yellow,
covering a thousand fields round about it. The stubble-fields
were yellow where yesterday had waved the golden grain. The
pasture-lands were yellow where nodded the golden-rod and sun-
flower. The great river on whose banks the city stands is a yel-
low stream where it kisses the banks of the golden bluffs, yellowed
by their clay. And all made golden by the yellow sunlight that
glints and flashes, and warms and makes soothing the sweet winds
that come south from the Black Hills or east from the Rockies.
And it is here you linger for days trying to imagine, midst all
this quiet and genial sunlight, midst these nights so like the
nights on the gulf coast of Texas or Mexico, with their beauti-
ful starlight, which even the gleaming moon shuts not out ;
vainly trying to imagine that this is the place of blizzard and
ice and snow and winds that blow as flashes of lightning.
They will frankly admit to you, these honest people of this
North-west town, that they do have blizzardy winters ; but they

ROUNDING THE LAKE.

come not till after the Christ Child's birthday. The 3d of last
December we drove from the extreme north end of the city south
to the lately established house of the Good Shepherd nuns and
back again some fourteen miles, we think, going and coming
without top-coat, and were sorry when the beautiful drive was

644

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

[Aug.,

ended. Twas like an October day on the Eastern Shore in
Maryland, only it was more life-giving.

It was with great reluctance that we turned away from the

golden city of Nebraska and set our faces towards the east

THE GATE BEAUTIFUL INTO A LAND OF FREER LIFE.

and north that early September day, seeking the region of the
upland hay there where Iowa, Minnesota, and Dakota come
together, in those bygone years the home of the pintail-grouse,
known through all this region as the prairie-chicken, for we
were to camp-out there and gun for a season. Our stopping-
point was a mere hamlet, since grown to a thriving city with a
bank, a hotel, a Catholic church three important factors
where we arrived at 3 A.M., perfect strangers as we were, with
only a letter to the bank people. The hour of our arrival was
not particularly a convenient one, for there was no 'bus nor
agent of the hotel to meet the train. Then we had with us
some four hundred shells for our warfare with the birds, two
guns, two dogs, blankets, and other impedimenta to handle. But
the expedition was not a novel one to us, nor were we at a loss
what to do. While one for there were two of us guarded the
dogs and baggage, the other made for the village to look up
the hotel people. Ye gods of sleep ! how propitious you are
to mine host and his satellites of a village inn at 3 A.M. By
pounding, banging, calling, a stolid Dane, a stableman for it
was he who guarded the office as night-clerk was aroused from
his sleep and let us in. He knew no English, we no Danish.

1 8 9 5-]

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

645

By signs he offered his lounge till day-break ; but this did not
fall in with our notion. The proprietor was aroused ; a man
sent after dogs and baggage and the other hunter on guard at
the depot. Rooms were opened and we to bed at 4 A.M. At
8:30 we came down to breakfast, and a fine one too, and soon
after we presented our letters at the bank, established our
credit, engaged a wagon, and by 10 were off to the grass-fields
to camp-out with the hay-makers.

The rolling prairies of these regions are a perfect scene of
beauty if the grass is uncut. It is like the sea as the wind
sweeps and turns it, changing the color of the long grasses as

THE RIPENED GRAIN WAS YELLOW.

they show the under side, just as the wind will change the
color of the water as it tosses it up and away. We had driven
far from the railway and the sun had set long before we came
in sight of the camp. But at last we saw the smoke curling
from a long, low, half-tent, half-sod house. We had passed

646 BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE. [Aug.,

many such on the way, but they were empty ; the smoke
from this one telling us that here were our friends. And what
a sight as they came over the roll that had hidden them were
those hay-makers ! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-
how many more ? nine ten ! machines, two horses to a
machine and a man to manage them ; one following the other
laying low the sweet, long stems of these wild grasses.

Away in the distance, where yesterday or the day before
cutting had been done, were the rakers. Here at hand were
the baling machines ; and yonder in the distance were the
ricks of baled hay with their white canvas covering to protect
them from the rain, looking for all the world like a scattered
camp of soldiers.

We came not unexpected here, for the mighty lord of these
thousand rolling acres had sent on word to the men, who when
they saw us unhooked their horses and in a short time a tent
was erected for our accommodation.

The " camp-fire " was of short duration that night not much
longer than it took to smoke a pipe, tell the recent happenings
in the great world outside of those silent prairie-fields and so
good-night !

Oh ! the charm to roll one's self in a blanket and turn to
the open tent-door and gaze on those moonlit waves of waving
grass ; to smell of the sweet perfume of curing hay ; to sink
into a dreamless, refreshing sleep. Nowhere is the coming day
so mysterious in its birth as here on these unbroken plains.
There is a hush, a silence so deep, a darkness so profound that
it seems to have swept away the very earth, and awes you
with wonder and fear. Nor does the dawn, so sweetly beauti-
ful in the east, gray now, and white, now roseate, now red,
now white to flame color, seem to come to earth. It is there
in the east, on the horizon to be sure, but darkness hides the
earth. Then come the great bands of light, striking high to
the zenith and trembling and waving the day is in the very
throes of birth ; and earth seems again somehow to have come
back from death and darkness, and you are startled from your
waking dream to find a shadow athwart your tent door, and
then old Don bounces in and on you, licking your face and
entreating by every sign of dog-language for you to come away
to the fields. They have just unchained him, and lo ! here he is
your slave, your companion ; handsome, faithful, intelligent,
wonderful Don. May I tell you of his forebears his noble
ancestry ? I will tell you as it was told to me. In the year

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647

1860 the Prince of Wales visited the United States. For a
time he was the guest of an "English gentleman in Illinois, and
while there he was entertained by grouse-shooting. There had
been brought out from England a whole kennel of bird-dogs
for the Prince's use in whatever hunting expedition he might
wish to indulge in. Most of Livingston County, in Illinois, was
in 1860 an unbroken prairie, and it was there the Prince enjoyed
a few days at grouse-shooting. Many men were employed as
beatters, for you know a prince must have his game at hand

TENTING ON THE ROLLING PRAIRIES.

and not go tramping about looking for it. Among these beat-
ers were some who envied the Englishmen their fine dogs, and
thinking they would never be missed, and thinking too that the
Prince had more dogs than he could possibly use, and knowing
his Royal Highness for an open-hearted fellow, two of the finest
dogs were lost from the pack and never recovered till the
Prince had left for home. From these two in direct descent
came Don. Be this as it may, Don was beautiful enough and
intelligent enough to have been the prize dog of any prince
royal. And what days we had there in these never-ending hay-

648 BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE. [Aug.,

fields of the North-west, my companion and I, following Don
and Fannie as they covered those* haunts of the prairie-chicken,
coming back to camp late at night so tired, dog as master,
that nothing, not even a pipe, intervened between him and bed
when supper was eaten ! Of course I know that dogs, as a rule,
do not smoke. But Don did. At least, if I lit my pipe and
sat down to chat, he whined and tugged at his chain till I
would let him loose, and he would come and place himself on
the lee-side of me to enjoy the aroma of the tobacco. Don
covered the field on a run, while " old Fannie," his mother, as
more became her age and wisdom, did her work on the trot.

One day we were beating up a particularly tangled and wild
bit of prairie, and by reason of our destination hunting with
the wind. Don was far ahead, hidden for the most part of the
time by the tall grass. Fannie was nearer at hand and taking
it unusually easy, and with a care that showed how difficult it
was to take the scent working with the wind. Suddenly she
showed a point dead on, as the hunters say. We stood to
look at her, and just then Don caught sight of us and noticed
that we had stopped. Back he came on a run, and was directly
in line with Fannie and the pointed birds. We were too far
away from Fannie to get a crack at the birds when Don should
flush them, as flush them he would in his mad run. I threw up
my glove to attract his attention. He saw it and stopped. He
raised himself on his hind legs and saw Fannie at point. Back
he went, and, making a wide circle, came up behind Fannie and,
slowing to a trot and then to that trembling, creeping walk
when the scent is hot, backed up her point ! It was a beautiful
sight, and a wonderful bit of dog instinct.

How short those five days were and how quickly they passed !
And the hay-makers, ten of them, alone on the wide, wide
fields of grass, all day mowing, or raking, or baling fine fellows
all of them offering us a generous hospitality ; taking care of
us ; enjoying our society as much as they did the best of grouse
and rasher of bacon and splendid coffee which the man cook, a
Frenchman from Canada loaned us for our outing by the hotel
people, prepared with a skill worthy of a great chef. I had
slightly sprained my ankle in alighting from the wagon the last
night we were to be in camp. One of the hay-makers, a hand-
some fellow, six feet and over, but withal not much more than
a boy, had been very kind about it, and bandaged it and " fooled
with it," as he said, so that in the morning I hardly had a bit
of pain in it. In acknowledgment of his good offices I had

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649

given him a briar pipe I had with me. We bade them good-by
and had started, when my tall friend called after me to wait.
Alas ! I said, I have offended him by giving him the pipe and
he. is going to ask me to take it back, for I had noticed that
he had not thanked me when I gave it to him, but stood fumb-
ling in his side pockets with both hands. He beckoned me to
get down from the wagon, and I did so and went back to meet
him. Blushing like a girl, he handed me a letter, saying : " It's
for her ; will you put it on the train when you get over to the

IT WAS FOR THIS HE HAD TURNED RANCHMAN.

railroad?" And without waiting for a reply he bolted back to
his machine. I understood then why he had fumbled in his
side pockets when I presented him the pipe. He wished to
entrust this message to his sweetheart to me then and there,
but was ashamed to do so before the other men.

Back to the village, a good rest in a regulation bed for we
campers on the hills, by the lakes, along the rivers, in shooting-
boxes, and where not besides? admit to ourselves, but only to
ourselves, that a regulation bed with sheets and pillows is the
place to really rest in bills paid, tickets secured, traps packed
away, dogs looked after, and we were again on the rail bound

650

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

[Aug.,

for St. Paul, that New England town away there in the North-
west ; and from there to a great cattle ranch to spend a few
days with an old college chum, turned cow-puncher ; and in his
company " to see the Yellowstone Park and the wonders of the
farther North-west on yonder side of the Rockies," as he wrote
me. Railway travel may be dull between New York and Chi-
cago, but how describe it when your route is across a flat
prairie country? " Such a trip," said the judge who was on the
train with us, " is murdered time."

St. Paul has much about it that reminds you of a New Eng-
land city. There is a general neatness of streets and stores and
houses ; an adornment of yards and lawns ; an energy of enter-
prise in business ; a reserved coldness of manner quite unusual
in a Western town ; a style of dress to be observed among the
men of the streets that bespeaks good bank 'accounts as well as
good taste ; an architectural ambition displayed in church and
school buildings and hotels ; an indescribable something that
says Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut to you at every
turn. And yet the great city has a personality quite Western
withal ; and what is said of St. Paul one may say more parti-
cularly of Minneapolis, for in spite of all you may hear out
there of what St. Paul has that Minneapolis has not, of what
Minneapolis possesses and St. Paul lacks, the cities are virtually
one and the same town, " the one of which is t'other of the
other," as the boy says. And very beautiful cities they are too,,
with their stately homes, their broad and well-kept streets, their
great marts of business ; very interesting to Catholics because
of the active Catholic life everywhere in evidence ; very bright
and health-giving, as they are swept by those refreshing breezes
from the northern plains ; interesting to a degree to us, coming
as we did from camp among the hay-fields of the south and
west of them. We met a party of friends from St. Louis the
very day of our arrival, and before we retired that night a drive
had been projected for the next day. 'Twas a day of bright
sunshine and cool breezes. The youngsters of the party had
somewhere secured a tally-ho, and shortly after breakfast we
were off for the day behind four spanking horses, bound for
Fort Snelling and Minnehaha Falls which falls existed we were
told. When we got to them we found them a diminished
brooklet cascade before the great flouring-mills took all the
water. Anyhow, they gave us Longfellow as a topic of conver-
sation for the rest of the drive; and then to one of the fine
hotels at Minneapolis for dinner, where we met a great party

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651

of New York people, among whom were some we knew. They
were a part of those delightful railway excursions from the
East to the North-west. Away we went again, with no little re-
luctance, bidding good-by to the hotel people, who had taken

HE WORE A BROAD SOMBRERO.

such good care of us, over to look at the great flour-mills, and
then home along a beautiful boulevard passing the Catholic
Ecclesiastical Seminary, then a modest brick building situated
in the midst of a great park, and so to St. Paul.

That night the youngsters went to the opera, while we more
sedate ones smoked our pipes and lounged about the hotels and
planned our trip, for we were to take next day to Duluth. We
heard the youngsters chatting away in the parlor long after we
had gone upstairs, and from the balcony of our rooms, whither
we had gone for that night-cap smoke usual to all foolish slaves
of the weed, there came up to us snatches of song, joyous,
youthful laughter, and the babble of young voices in lively con-
versation. Given youth and health, given a day in the open in
sunshine and breeze,- given an hour or so at the opera, given
above all that starry, perfect night in this great quiet metropo-

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

[Aug.,

lis of the North-west, and what could hinder, who would wish
to, the flow of joy and mirth and innocent amusement of those
happy youngsters down there below in the parlor ? Anyhow, I
heard them say their good-night before twelve, and retired
thinking of St. Paul as a fair city on a fair hill, starlit and
beautiful, the home of youth and joy and innocence.

After seven hours of good sleep and a good breakfast we
were off for Duluth, a city projected across and over a beauti-
ful lake bluff. Procter Knott's great speech of this city is
coming to realization. At least so we thought as we climbed
the streets over this great hill and saw the harbor, the shipping,
the mighty unsalted sea, so cold yet so beautiful, as it was
storm-tossed by a north breeze ; saw the city of West Superior
lying yonder, with the cloud of smoke crowning its high chim-
neys ; saw that newer Duluth down there below us, with its iron
foundries and we know not how many other industries. So we
thought, too, when asking the cost of a lot here on the top of
this bare hill where we are standing a lot 50x100, nothing but
bare rock, mind you, and the city to-day down there below and
were told "$2,ooo, and dirt cheap at that." " But the hill-

DEDICATING THIS WONDERLAND TO PUBLIC USE AS A PARK.

cables are soon to come," said our informant, "and then these
hill-tops will be the very heart of the residence portion of the
city." They have far-reaching eyes, have these Western people !

1 895.] BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE. 653,

Next day we took a little steamer and went through the
harbor, passing on our way one of those strange-looking whale-
back grain-boats, destined to cross the ocean from out this very
harbor, and up the river to Spirit Lake, where some capitalists
were projecting a summer-resort and pleasure-grounds. Right
royal fellows we found them to be when we met them at table
at the little hotel where we dined ; showing us their maps and
plans, and, wonderful to relate, not asking us to invest in a lot
or shares.

A row on the river, a swim, and we were back for the
steamer and soon again in Duluth.

Next day we strolled down to the harbor, and seeing a fine
sailing-boat at the dock, I fell into conversation with the man
in charge of her. " Could I have her for a sail ? " " Why cer-
tainly if I would ship her crew," he answered ; so my friend
and I, engaging the sailor and his boat and his two sons, young
fellows seventeen and nineteen, put for the open lake, going
through that narrow little cut in the arm of land that extends
out from the shore and curving about makes the beautiful
harbor. And what a sail it was ! The wind was on the beam
and steady, the sky without a cloud, the air bracing and filled
with ozone, the sailor an old tar from the coast of Maine
replete with yarns, the two lads enjoying our pleasure as much
as we did the sail. We thought our trip to Duluth worth taking
as often as we recalled that sail.

That night we were aboard our sleeper, bound for the
farther West to meet an old college friend, and go for a few
days to his ranch to see something of ranch-life, and in his
company to visit the Yellowstone Park. I had not seen him
since he had left school, and was disappointed on reaching our
station on the Northern Pacific to find he had sent his man with
horses and a polite note saying that he could not come him-
self, but hoped to return to the ranch-house that night. But
any disappointment was greatly compensated for by the beauti-
ful mount he had sent for my accommodation, a perfect
Kentucky-bred single-footer. It was a great joy to vault into
the saddle after the long, weary railway trip and to find that
your horse was to be ridden only after you proved yourself
master. Nor was my companion less well mounted. The ranch-
man who had come for us rode a sorry-looking broncho ; but do
not judge a broncho by its looks. It is neither gentle nor sad-
hearted, nor tame, nor tired, nor hungry, nor thirsty, nor
stumbling, nor slow, nor anything else it looks, but just a

654

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

[Aug.,

broncho a cross of every strain of blood that horseflesh knows ;
a horse that you cannot describe save in a general way. There
are three things to be said of it, however, which are absolutely
true. It has the ugliest head, the gentlest eye, and the most
stubborn nature of any animal that walks on four legs. Our
traps were brought along on a buck-board drawn by two bur-
ros, and driven by a black boy who had the wonderful name
of Melting Snow-ball. "How did he get that name?" I asked

EACH SUCCEEDING WONDER SEEMS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN THE LAST.'

of the ranchman who rode with us. " I am sure I don't know,
stranger," .he answered; "but it's a good name for him; he's so
lazy that he is likely to melt clear off the earth at any moment."
Later on I learned that the companion to whom I was talking
had a name of his own likewise. At the ranch they referred to
him as Lost-Eyed Bill. Not but that he had two eyes, but
one of them had a cast, and when he was excited the bad eye
nearly disappeared from view. As we three rode forward
Melting Snow-ball was left far in the rear. Indeed I began to

i 895.] BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE. 655

fear that the direful prediction as to his probable fate had
really come true, for we had reached the ranch-house, had
supper, had our smoke, and turned in for the night, and Melt-
ing Snow-ball had not shown up with our traps. However, next
morning Melting Snow-ball was agreeably in evidence, for we sat
down to a dainty breakfast prepared and served by that worthy
himself.

The ranch-house was a low, two-story building with a broad,
rudely-constructed porch about two sides of it, very irregular in
shape because of the many additions made to it, reminding one
of some of the older Virginian forms of houses of ante-bellum
days. It was roomy and airy and withal very comfortable, and,
in the face of the fact that there was not a woman about the
place, exceedingly neat and well kept. In the front part of the
house, just off the porch, was a large square room ; and judg-
ing from its furnishing, it was the office, parlor, library, and
lounging-room of my friend the proprietor. Low bpok-shelves
were about three sides of it, well stocked chiefly with works of
fiction. The walls were covered with Chinese hangings very
artistically arranged. Pictures abounded in profusion here,
there, and everywhere, ranging from prints taken from Puck
and Harper s to paintings in oil one at least, a painting of
Lake Tahoe, by a distinguished artist. Easy-chairs were scat-
tered about, and the floor was covered with rugs. To one side
a roll-top desk, with bills and receipts and account-books.
An open fireplace with a mantel in hard wood from floor to
ceiling, adorned with bronzes and china. Opposite on the other
wall a pin-glass, and' stuck in between the frame and the glass
a fringe of cards, letters, and photographs. The fact is my friend
had transferred his college quarters to these Western wilds. In
the middle of the room was an oblong table of hard wood, and
on it the latest magazines. There I discovered, too, a letter
addressed to myself. It ran thus :

MY DEAR ROY : You own the ranch. Take possession and
make yourself comfortable. Urgent and unexpected business
called me to the South ranch. A thousand apologies. Will be
with you as soon as this business is transacted, as fast as
Plevna can bring me. Yours,

The information conveyed in the last line of his note was
not exactly clear, for who or what Plevna might be was not
easy to guess. We were sitting on the porch after our breakfast,

656 BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE. [Aug.,

talking and smoking, when a cowboy rode into the corral. He
was the very picture of grace as he swung into the yard at full
speed. He wore a broad sombrero, was in shirt-sleeves, a sort of
armless jacket over his shirt, a bright silk handkerchief about
his throat. His top-boots, into which his trousers were thrust,

STILL THE WONDERS MULTIPLIED.

and his hat, above all the trappings of his broncho with its
Mexican saddle, its bright metal about the bridle, the great
coil of lasso at the pommel, gave the rider a decidedly Spanish
appearance. His jet-black hair and moustache only heightened
the effect. He had evidently ridden far and hard, for his
broncho showed her fatigue. The rider was easily six feet
and heavy of build, and inclined to be stout. Fancy my
surprise to have him shout my name to me across the corral
and ask how I was ! It was my old college friend himself.
Here was a transformation from the delicate consumptive col-
lege graduate, the Greek-prize taker, the poet of our class,
the strummer of banjos and mandolins, the exquisite of the
whole lot of us, turned cowboy and grown to a wonderfully
hearty and strong man! But it was for this that he had turned
ranchman, and he had attained his end.

I895-]

BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE.

What glorious rides we had across those plains together !
camping out with his men, joining in their pastimes and work.
" But why do you call your broncho Plevna ? " I asked.
" Because she was conquered only after a very long siege. I
selected her from a pack of wild horses and broke her myself.
She came within an ace of breaking my neck a dozen of times.
But I conquered, and now I have the best horse on the ranch."

The few days of our stay slipped away all too fast, and it
was with regret I heard the order given to Melting Snow-ball
to go on ahead with our traps to the railway, that he might be
on time. He was given ten hours' start ahead of the rest of
the party.

Again on the railway bound to the West ; but the trip seemed
a short one, for old college-days was a theme of conversation pos-
itively enchanting to both of us, and we hardly realized the time
passing, though it was for hours. We sped along till we alighted

THE SPOUTING GEYSERS.

at Livingston, "and thence to the Monmoth Hot Springs Hotel,
in the park. There are no words to describe the beauty and
wonder of this region. The glorious drive from the hotel around
and through the park is one succession of pictures, so vast in
extent, so warm in color, so astonishing in contrast, so amazing in
VOL. LXI. 42

658 BETTER THAN A TRIP TO EUROPE. [Aug.,

formation, that one is awed into silence and contemplation.
Whether it be cafion or plain, whether it be park or geyser,
each succeeding wonder seems more beautiful than the last. It
is a perfect pleasure-ground on a magnificent scale, a place for
those who seek rest and health. When the Honorable Cor-
nelius Hedges, of Montana, projected the scheme of turning
the paradise into a natural park, his desire was better than he
knew.

It was in camp at the Lower Geyser Basin that the thought
came to him of setting this wonderland aside from private
occupation and ownership, and dedicating it to public use as a
park. But what wonder that so noble a thought should have
filled his soul here in the midst of nature's grandest achieve-
ments ? He must be a soulless man who can gaze on this
panorama of beauty and wonder, and not have his whole being
lifted up into ennobling thought.

We had hastened none too soon to the park, for the last
ten miles of our drive back to the hotel was in a snow-storm.
I parted with my friend at Livingston, .on the Northern Pacific ;
he retiring to his ranch and I on to Spokane and Olympia, to
that very wonder of beauty of the North, Fort Townsend at
Puget Sound. I was still then, in late September, in perfect
weather ; nor did I turn my face southward for many days,
seeking lower California and a homeward route through Mexico
and the Southern States, of which journey I hope to tell you
at some future time.

1 895.] A SEEMING LIBERAL CHECK IN ENGLAND. 659

A SEEMING LIBERAL CHECK IN ENGLAND.

BY QUASIVATES.

of those fortuitous occurrences in politics
whi<ch by the inexperienced are often mistaken
for deeper manifestations has temporarily placed
the Conservatives and Liberal-Unionists in
'power in Great Britain and precipitated a general
election. As a consequence, the reactionary party is jubilant,
and the friends of progress are in a proportionate degree de-
pressed. It is premature to allow either feeling to prevail just
now. Only this general principle may be accepted by way of
consolation, in case the Liberal party be defeated at the polls
by the forces of the new coalition that all legislation passed
by the Lower House of the Legislature, no matter how often
impeded by the House of Lords, eventually found its way to
the statute-book. There is no reason to believe that the legisla-
tion of the past couple of years is to form a precedent for the
reverse.

SOLID WORK OF THE LIBERAL MINISTRY.

Deprived of the enormous prestige of Mr. Gladstone's leader-
ship, the Liberal party had fared better, all things considered,
than most onlookers ever expected it would under new and un-
tried direction. Mr. Gladstone's majority, when he took office
three years ago, was barely forty. When the Liberal Ministry
surrendered its trust into the hands of the sovereign, it could still
muster up a majority of more than half that number. Many
of its friends maintained that it showed a lack of moral courage
in giving up the fight under such circumstances. There is no
doubt that in doing so it acted precisely as the Tories and
Liberal-Unionists wished it would. These coalitionists were
naturally in favor of an immediate dissolution, while the
country is coldly affected toward the Liberal party by reason
of its want of a spirited leading, and while the coalitionists may
take advantage of this disposition under the old unreformed
franchise. Had the Liberals been able to retain office until the
Registration Bill had been passed into law, some hundreds of
thousands of votes must certainly have been cut off from the

660 A SEEMING LIBERAL CHECK IN ENGLAND. [Aug.,

Tory side. This one measure alone would have been worth
every sacrifice a ministry could in honor make. And it is here-
in that the charge of moral cowardice on the part of the late
ministers has some real weight. They were not defeated on a
vital measure ; only a question of military detail. Mr. Camp-
bell-Bannerman, the late minister of war, happens, however, to
be a very sensitive man, and he insisted on resigning when his
estimates were challenged irk one item and a snatched vote of
seven against the government was recorded. The ministry had
the alternative of replacing the item on the estimates and sub-
jecting it to the vote of a fuller house. But they chose rather
to play into the hands of the opposition and allow it to choose
its own time for the inevitable appeal to the country. This
never could be said of a Tory ministry. Such a government
never resigns office until it has got the notice to go in a way
which cannot be misunderstood.

MR. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN A HOODOO.

The effusive welcome with which Mr. Joseph Chamberlain
was received into the coalition will not blind any one to the
fact that that gentleman is the most unfortunate of statesmen.
He has put forward scheme after scheme for the settlement of
the omnipresent Irish difficulty, for the settlement of the social
difficulty and various other difficulties, but history fails to record
his success in a single one of them. He has been a disastrous
failure as an international arbiter between Great Britain and
the United States. He may be set down, in short, as what is
termed a " hoodoo " in politics. His presence bodes no good to
any coalition. The chief ground for despondency on the part
of the Liberals is the unreliability of Lord Roseberry as a leader.
It was a most unfortunate thing that the man chosen to suc-
ceed Mr. Gladstone at this particular juncture of affairs should
be a member of the Upper House. That House and the Eng-
lish people are now at odds, and it does look a little anomalous
to find a peer leading the forces intent on the destruction or
reduction to impotency of that headstrong and seemingly irre-
claimable oligarchy. This anomaly has hampered the action of
the Liberals in a very serious way. It prevented the passing
of a resolution demanding the abolition of the Peers' power of
veto at the Newcastle convention, and so has estranged the
powerful Radical section of the party. It seems to have entered
into the calculations of the coalition that the dead-weight of
this contradiction must stil-1 make itself felt whatever else betide,

1895.] A SEEMING LIBERAL CHECK IN ENGLAND. 66 1

and make the masses of the people forget the real issue before
them when they are asked to decide between the Newcastle
programme and the Tory or coalitionist want of one. For such,
in truth, is the state of affairs with regard to the latter party.
They have nothing to propose to the people but just to leave
things as they are.

THE LORDS GONE MAD.

There was never a period, when a dissolution was forced
upon the country, at which so singular a state of affairs existed
with regard to popular legislation. At the doors of the House
of Lords lie the corpses of three great measures slain by them,
namely, the Irish Home-Rule Bill, the Employers' Liability Bill,
and the Voters' Registration Bill. Two other great popular
measures were almost through the Lower House when the min-
istry resigned. These are the Irish Land Bill and the Welsh
Church Disestablishment Bill. Had they passed the Lower
House before the collapse, they too would undoubtedly have
been tomahawked by the Tory Lords. The final act of the
drama, on the eve of the dissolution, was the contemptuous
rejection by the Peers of a small but useful popular bill for Ire-
land, the Municipal Franchise Bill, which the Commons had
just passed. This bill only sought to place municipal voters in
Irish towns on the same level as parliamentary voters. But the
Lords rejected it by a solid Tory vote, scarcely deigning to
give any reason for their action. Hardly one useful scrap of
legislation has been suffered to pass since the Liberals were
returned, owing to the antagonistic policy of the Upper House.
The Peers have wasted, practically, three whole sessions of Par-
liament, and brought the work of the empire to a standstill.
And it is for an endorsement of such a policy the coalition
ministry ask the British electorate, and feel justified in antici-
pating a favorable answer. This may be only British phlegm ;
to outsiders it certainly appears the sublimity of profligate
effrontery.

COALITIONS DESPICABLE AND DISASTROUS.

All lovers of constitutional rule regard coalition governments
with repugnance, and very naturally so. The term itself, as
understood in a parliamentary and political sense, is a sinister
one. It means the temporary abandonment of fundamental prin-
ciples by two great parties, for the purpose of circumventing
honest opponents of political chicanery in either camp. The his-

662 A SEEMING LIBERAL CHECK IN ENGLAND. [Aug.,

tory of coalition governments in England is not only the record
of the worst periods of shameless corruption in the public ser-
vice as well as in Parliament, but the chronicle of alliances con-
ceived in dishonor and ultimately ending in disaster. These
compacts have always been made for the defeat of measures
which the honester men of either party know to be inevitable.
Hence the friends of progress ought rather to take heart from
the formation of this new coalition than to indulge in gloomy
forebodings.

IRELAND MOST CONCERNED.

To the people of Ireland more than any other section of
the British Empire the collapse of the Liberals bears a painful
significance. The fortunes of the country were largely bound
up with the Liberal cause. It was this ministry which carried
the Home-Rule Bill ; a measure hardly less momentous was the
Irish Land Bill, which had passed through most of its stages
when the government passed in its seals of office. This bill, if
it had been passed into law, would have been of enormous
benefit to Ireland. It proposed to complete the work of the
former Land Acts, providing such safeguards for the security
of the tenant-farmers as to place them entirely beyond the
power of land-valuers or land-judges favorable to the landlords'
side and providing such machinery for the legal adjustment of
rents as could hardly fail to command general confidence. This
bill had the warm approbation of the Ulster farmers in especial,
and seemed destined to bring general contentment to the great
body of Irish agriculturists. It becomes, of course, a dead-
letter now, to be reintroduced by the Liberals if they be
returned to power, but certainly not to be adopted by the
coalition, at least in its most beneficial shape, should the
ballot-boxes decide in favor of these reactionaries. What the
coalition has in view to offer in its stead has yet to be learned.
Some rumors credit Mr. Balfour with the design of introducing
a vast scheme of land purchase for Ireland, as well as a liberal
measure of local government, amounting almost to a scheme of
Home Rule. But it is only a very short time since that gen-
tleman himself declared in the House of Commons, during the
debate on the repeal of the perpetual Coercion Act, that his
views on Irish policy had in no material respect altered from
those he held five years ago, and these, as is well known, might
be summed up in the formula, coercion pure and simple, tem-
pered by a mild dash of light railway development. There is

1 89 5.] A SEEMING LIBERAL CHECK IN ENGLAND. 663

no decent excuse for coercion at present, it is true ; but this is
a state of affairs that would not require much to alter. Ireland
is profoundly tranquil from end to end, thanks to the concilia-
tory rule of John Morley, and the expectation of great reme-
dial legislation. The installation of a reactionary ministry, with
a revival of the old policy, might transform the scene like
the touch of a harlequin's bat, were not the people held in
check by the sanguine hope that the obstacle was only tempor-
ary and the triumph of the Liberals only a question of a brief
interval.

TRAITORS IN THE CAMP.

This is indeed the hope which has sustained the country all
through the past couple of years. It was in the assurance that
the Liberal policy must ultimately win that the people calmly
looked on at the vetoing of the Home-Rule Bill by the House
of Lords, and the taking up of English and Welsh questions by
the House of Commons instead of at once picking up the gage
of battle thrown down by the insolent Peers. The Liberals
still hold the winning cards in the game, if they but play them
judiciously. .They would have been triumphant now had but
the whole Irish vote, on the Nationalist side, been with them
all through. But unfortunately the mischievous knot of mal-
contents led by Mr. John Redmond chose to go into the lobby
with the opposition or absent themselves on some important
divisions lately, in pursuance of some unintelligible subterranean
policy, and to this cause the Liberals undoubtedly owe their
downfall.

The chief concern of Ireland must be to prevent, if possible,
a repetition of this disastrous mismanagement or duplicity. The
constituencies are bound to put forth all their strength to crush
out this spirit and restore discipline in the Parliamentary ranks.
There is good reason to believe that the Redmondite represen-
tation can be reduced to four or five, whilst there is also a
sanguine hope that five seats can be won from the Tories in
Ulster. When Ireland has thus put her own house in order,
she may await developments. The seeds of disruption, un-
doubtedly, will be in the coalition ; for, apart from their agree-
ment in opposition to Home Rule, Tories and renegade Lib-
erals have nothing in common except a deep-rooted and tradi-
tional mutual hatred. The chiefs of the parties notably Mr.
Balfour and Mr. Chamberlain regard each other with a deadly
jealousy ; and the subordinate characters on the stage will fight

664 A SEEMING LIBERAL CHECK IN ENGLAND. [Aug.,

like brigands over the spoils of office. The Liberals will merely
have to adopt a Fabian policy for a little while, and these jeal-
ousies and antipathies will certainly do the work of regular
assault or blockade.

ARISTOCRATIC INSOLENCE.

Whatever be the direct outcome of the general election, we
are not far from the determination of the nicest constitutional
question with which England has had to deal since the abdica-
tion of James II. The practical issue before the people is the
maintenance, reconstruction, or abolition of the Hereditary
Chamber. This is the issue upon which the Liberals will fight,
and before they can ever attempt any legislation in accordance
with their title and their historical records that issue must be
decided. The House of Lords blocks the way, and the coali-
tionists ask the country to give them a mandate to tell the
House of Lords to continue blocking the way. They seem to
have deluded themselves into the belief of poor Lord John
Manners, who put himself heroically on record a la Dogberry :

" Let laws and learning, arts and commerce die,
But spare us still our old nobility."

The most .curious feature about this absurd position is that
the Lords have not a word to say why judgment should not
be passed upon them. They are completely without apology
or defence. They simply say in effect: " We have vetoed every-
thing you desired made law, and we are prepared to go on
vetoing as long as we are permitted to enjoy our constitutional
privileges ; and on that account we ask you to return Tories
and Liberal-Unionists to power." How, in especial, the party
known as Liberal-Unionists can be found endorsing this pro-
gramme of retrogressive feudal insolence is one of the most
astonishing enigmas of modern politics. It is so flagrantly
at variance with the elementary principles and the very idea of
Liberalism, that the mass of Liberal electors ought in all reason
to revolt from it and teach their recreant leaders a useful les-
son. However, in politics, it is the unexpected which is always
occurring; and we can but await the outcome of this singular
political tangle with patient curiosity. The answer may come
ere this article goes to press, and then we shall be enabled to
see our way more clearly.

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

665

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

BY THEODORE PETERSON, B.D.

HE old game of procrastination is being resorted
to by the Sublime Porte with regard to Armenia.
No longer is there any pretence at denying the
barbarous outrages lately perpetrated in Sassoun.
The commission has inquired into the matter on
the spot, and despite the strenuous efforts of the Turkish func-
tionaries to hide the truth, the case against the Kurds and the
government troops has been fully proved. It is too horrible to
be put into print. Action has been taken by the European
powers concerned in the treaty of Berlin. Re-
forms in the administration of the country, in-
cluding the appointment of a high commis-
sioner for Armenia who shall be approved by
the European powers, have been recommended
to the Porte, and as the Porte shuffled as usual,
orders were given for a naval demonstration in
the Bosporus. Then the Porte backed down,
and a little more time has been given it for
consideration. Meantime events are moving
rapidly outside. The tide of Moslem fanaticism
is rising, and the massing of a Russian army
corps on the borders of the disturbed province
shows that at least one European power may
be depended on to take a bold step for the
protection of the Christian subjects of the Sul-
tan, should such an extreme measure become
necessary.

In speaking of the Armenian outrages Mr.
James Bryce, M.P., lately said : " What do you
expect from a country where one-half of its TURKISH REGULAR.
population calls the other half ' dogs ' and treats
them as such ? " It is unquestionably true that there is no security
of property whatever, no redress for loss, no punishment for
the guilty, no justice for the Christian, no respect for the honor
of Christian women, no safety of life ; but a reign of terror
everywhere, and robbery official and unofficial plunder, pillage,

666

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

[Aug.,

outrage, violation, desolation, perpetual poverty, and an ever-
lasting famine in a beautiful land. This is not all. There is
the fear every moment of a wholesale massacre.

The empire is rapidly going down, and its inevitable fall is
simply a matter of time ; no effort is made to stop the corrup-
tion that has stricken it from the crown clear down to the sole.
If the Turkish sovereignty would exercise the energy that is
displayed to suppress the truth and influence public opinion to

reform the present
administration, it
might perhaps be-
come a good govern-
ment ; but things
are otherwise, and
the government is
encouraging the cor-
ruption and hasten-
ing its own destruc-
tion. The high hon-
ors conferred on
those connected with
the late massacres,
and the public
thanks given to the
Turkish troops, have
impressed the offi-
cials everywhere with
the idea that the
more they persecute,
plunder, and slaugh-
ter the Armenians,
the more rapid will
be their decoration
and promotion.

Yet this is not all. Add to it, if you please, the tribal
hostilities dating centuries back, the religious hatred and the
Moslem fanaticism, and we have the nameless atrocities and oft-
repeated massacres. When the fanaticism of the Turk is excited
he is as barbarous as his ancestors under Timor the Tartar,
and there is no atrocity of which he is not capable. He freely
massacres the defenceless women and the little ones and the
wounded ; even the death of the unbelievers, or Christian dogs,
does not satisfy him, and he delights to mutilate the corpse.

THE SULTAN OF TURKEY.

1 89 5.] TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS. 667

The reports of consuls, as well as of travellers in Armenia, even
before the recent horrors, show the condition of the land to be
intolerable. This state of things comes to us from ages back.
"The history of Christians under Moslem law," says Van Ham-
mer, " is only an uninterrupted scene of tyranny, violation, and
slaughters." It is carried on by the functionaries as the only
means to strengthen and perpetuate Moslem supremacy. Nejib
Pasha of Damascus said to a confidential agent of the British
consul in that city : " The Turkish government can only main-
tain its supremacy by cutting down its Christian sects "; and We
heard later on the sickening tales of the Damascus and Lebanon
massacres. The grand vizier says : " To get rid of the Arme-
nian question is to get rid of the Armenian people "; and we
have a series of Armenian massacres, among which is that of
Sassoun, which drew the attention of the civilized world. The
following figures give but a faint idea of the desolation caused
by the Turkish massacres during this century :

1822 In Scios Isles, 50,000 Greeks (Lathem, p. 417).

1850 " Mosoul, . 10,000 Armenians (Cont. Rev., p. 16, 1895).

1860 " Lebanon, . 11,000 Syrians (Churchill, p. 219).

1876 " Bulgaria, . 14,000 Bulgarians (Schuyler).

1877 " Bazarid, . 2,400 Armenians (Norman, Armenia, p. 273).

1879 " Alashgird, . 1,100 u (Armenian Patr. Const.)

1892 " Mosoul, . 2,000 Yezidies (Perry's Rep. to Brit.)

1894 " Sassoun, . 12,000 Armenians.

Victor Hugo has truly said : " If a man is killed in Paris, it
is a murder ; the throats of fifty thousand people are cut in the
East, and it is a question." Unless a check is put upon the
lawless band unfortunately called the Turkish government the
atrocious procession will steadily and surely go on to its goal
the annihilation of the Christian element. A check upon the
Turk means but one thing the withdrawal of those pro-
vinces from the control of Moslem fanaticism. It is noticeable
that the greatest number of these horrors have taken place in
the reign of " the most merciful," " the most good-hearted," and
the most polite and gentlemanly Hamid II., whose praises have
poisoned the air of this land of the free. The Sultan is not to
blame ; he is a typical Moslem, and the most faithful ruler that
ever came to the throne of the empire. He is but doing what
Mohammed has commanded him to do in the forty-seventh
chapter of the Koran, where he says : " When ye encounter the

668

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

[Aug.,

unbelievers, strike off their heads until you have made a great
slaughter of them." Who, then, is responsible for the blood
shed ? We do not hesitate to answer " England," who has
pledged before God and man to protect the Christians there.
Now then, since England comes not forth to fulfil her pledge,
and since the Christians have been voted to a wholesale slaugh-
ter by the Prophet and his followers, what comes next?

The next thing, in order to escape a wholesale massacre, is

a wholesale emigration. This
scheme seems to be the natural
consequence of conditions in
Armenia, and it is also strongly
advocated by some of our papers
here, which say : " Let him alone
and let him come out of his
dominion, if the Armenian does
not like the Turk." One might
think this advisable for the Ar-
menians, as they can find secu-
rity of property, and safety of
life and religious freedom, else-
where, especially in the neigh-
boring provinces of Russia, where
are millions of their brethren, as
well as the Catholicos, the father
of all the Armenians, of whom
it is said that he is about to
make an application to the prin-
cipality for a large tract of land
on which to settle the emi-
grants. Yet it would, of course,
be ridiculous to plan such an

undertaking. The temptation is very dangerous, both for Asia-
tic civilization and for the Turkish Empire itself.

Those who have travelled in Turkey, or who reside there,
and those who study history and are interested in ancient civil-
ization, will agree that the Armenians were in the past better
civilized and farther advanced in art, in commerce, and in liter-
ature than the Turks of to-day. Their progress, in the past and
present, in spite of endless obstacles, is not surpassed by that of
any race in Asia. The richest and most fertile provinces in the
world, once possessed by them, are to-day a desert, where the
foxes and jackals howl and wander among ruins whose desolate

TURKISH BASHI-BAZOUK.

1 89 5.] TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS. 669

columns stand as monuments of an ancient prosperity, and which
are an eternal reproach to that Turkish rule of which it has
been truly said that " The grass never grows where their horses
have trod."

Are not the Armenians to-day the most intelligent, loyal,
industrious, enterprising, and moral race in the empire ? Are
they not the better civilized people, the Yankees of the Orient,
the far-advanced in art, in architecture, in science, and in all
departments of life ? We are told that the Armenians, number-
ing three millions perhaps, have more than thirty periodicals ;
while the Turks, numbering over fifteen millions, have about
twenty papers, and that even these are managed by Armenian
editors.

To expatriate such an element from a country is a vital
blow to the civilization of that country. Will the lovers of
civilization and the leaders of progress, while striving in the
darkest parts of the earth to liberate mankind from the chains
of ignorance and the degradation of slavery, allow this already
civilized and elevated race to be wiped out by a diabolical
machine, and stretch not out a helping hand in this critical hour?
We hope not. There seems to have been a purpose in the
preservation of this long-suffering people through ages of blood
and fire. It is not too much to say that they, having done so
much for Christianity in the past, will surely have a large share
in the future in civilizing and Christianizing the neighboring
races. God has chosen this enduring race as an instrument in
his hand, and preserved it as a leaven in that vast land, and
the future is theirs.

Their extermination were fatal to the empire from a political
stand-point, though the Turks do not appreciate this fact. It is
an unquestionable fact that the Armenians are superior to their
masters, as were the Greeks of old to their Roman masters, in
political, commercial, and governmental affairs, whenever a
chance is offered to them. Not only they, but the whole
Christian population, are far in advance of the Mohammedans,
and if an equal footing in the administration had been granted
them, the empire would be much richer and larger than it now
is. Christians are excluded from the army because they are
considered infidels and it would defile the Mohammedan soldiers
to come in contact with them. The army is a religious band
and its soldiers must stand for and serve the Moslem faith. If
the sultans were wise enough to see their interest, and had
courage enough to liberate themselves from the superstitions

6;o

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

[Aug.,

characteristic of the orientals and predominant among the Turks,
they would admit the Armenian youth to the military as well
as the civil services. They would then have generals like Loris
Melikoff, who was about to introduce a constitutional adminis-
tration in Russia had not the Nihilists killed Alexander II., and
who is the conqueror of Kars, the key of the Sultan's Asiatic
provinces ; Lazaroff and Gugassoff and many others, Armenians
by birth and most distinguished in the Russian army ; also
capable statesmen like Nubar Pasha another Armenian the
prime minister, and, as he has been truly called, "The Grand
Old Man of the Egyptian politicians," the originator of the
International Tribunal of Egypt. These are Armenians and
they could give to the world others of like character had not
the world declined to give them the privileges to which they
are entitled.

To compel a people of such rare endowments to leave
their needy country is more than foolishness ; it is a crime for
which there is no atonement in the world of civilization. This
ancient people, whether for the love of humanity, or for that of
the rocks and hills of their fatherland, affections equally noble
and sublime, do not dare to commit such an inexpiable crime
as the evacuation of the land. They love to sit on the banks of

the sacred Euphrates
and Araxes and to re-
peat their sweet old
melodies, and to add
their tears to the
waters crimsoned by
the blood of their
children ; and those
who have been com-
pelled to leave for
various reasons look
back with longing eyes
from every part of the
world, and with hope-
fulness and sympathy.
Since, then, their patriotism is so strong, and their removal so
dangerous both to civilization and to the Sultan's government,
no one, except the Turks, could conscientiously think of their
emigration. This being the case, the question still confronts us
-what is the alternative ? To change their religion. Some think
this would end all the trouble ; but some still believe that it

ARMENIANS TAKING TO FLIGHT.

I895-]

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

671

would make no difference. The maltreatment and torture of
Turkish and Kurdish peasants is as bad as that of the Arme-
nians. No doubt there is some truth in this, and we sadly
acknowledge that the lower class of Turks are also molested
and robbed by the common enemy the officials ; but it is not
just to say that the Moslems are treated with such cruelty as
the Christians, for that would be placing the two sects on an
equality which is utterly impossible in the Mohammedan world,
and contrary to the
immutable teachings
of the Koran and the
infallible will of the
sultans. If we can
lift the veil of this
mystery and pene-
trate to the depths
of the question, we
shall see it in an alto-
gether different light.
It is true the Turks
and Kurds are im-
prisoned, and they
rightly deserve it as
a wild, cruel, and crim-
inal class ; but the
Armenians are im-
prisoned and tortured
because they are edu-
cated and refined and
have the Western civ-
ilization, and above all are Christians. Their wives and daugh-
ters are violated and made booty of by all believers of the
Koran ; but we have never heard and will not, so long as the
Crescent reigns, of the ill-treatment of the wives and daughters
of believers by a Moslem. The harem is sacred to every be-
liever of the Koran.

We have heard much of life imprisonment and death punish-
ment of Christian students, of teachers, of preachers, of priests,
of bishops, and of archbishops ; moreover we have seen dozens
of Christians suffer capital punishment, lifted up to the guillotine
or beheaded publicly ; but we have not yet heard of a Moham-
medan preacher or priest who was sent to life imprisonment or
received the capital penalty. Why ? Is it because the latter

GROUP OF ARMENIAN "REBELS" NEAR SASSOUN.

672 TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS. [Aug.,

class is better than the former ? No, by no means. It is
simply because the one asks the blessing of Heaven in the
name of Christ, while the other asks it in the name of Moham-
med and carries out the command of his book, to make " a
great slaughter among the infidels." Not only are they not
punished they are encouraged and decorated by the successor
of the Prophet for their aggressive projects. It is stated by
those whose names, if attached, would give weight, that the
Mufty of Moosh, a theologian and commentator of the Koran,
made the following address : " To violate the wives and
daughters of Christians dogs, infidels is just ; to ruin their
churches is a virtue ; to plunder and pillage their property is
the command of God ; and for every Christian whose blood is
shed by a Moslem the reward is a nymph in God's paradise " ;
and he was decorated by the Sultan as an honest and faithful
servant.

Now we reach the bottom of the mystery, and it is clear,
from the Mohammedan point of view, that it is a religious
fight, a "holy war," and if the Armenians were kind enough, or
wise enough, as some say, to change their creed, they would be
allowed to live. In this free land of ours even Christians have
confidentially said that it is not worth while to die for a reli-
gion even for Christianity it is foolish ; they might embrace
the Mohammedan faith in public and serve Christ in secret.
To ;do 'this would be actually impossible for the people of
Ararat. Centuries of cruelty, of oppression, of the most odious
tyranny, have failed to shake the faith of the Armenians ; and
although their country has been depopulated by the most ruth-
less massacres, and although the infamous policy of their con-
querors has driven them out like, hunted animals to seek refuge
in distant parts of the earth in India, the Island of Java,
Europe, and America they have always preferred the crown of
martyrdom to the white turban of Mohammed.

We are told by students of history that the Armenians were
the first to embrace Christianity as their national religion, 302
A.D., and the first to lead a campaign against the religion of
Zoroaster, which threatened the whole of Asia Minor with its
fire-worship in 451, at which time the cross was victorious.
From that time on they have been marching through blood and
fire for their belief and adding to the long list of their martyrs.
I do not permit myself to enter into a description of the cam-
paigns of the crusaders, when the service rendered by their co-
religionists was very great, and for which it is said they lost

I8 9 5.]

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

6/3

their small independence in Cilicia ; but this much can be said
that they have suffered more than their share and done more
for Christianity than Christendom seems likely to do for them.

At the present time we have the statements of eye-witnesses
to their faithfulness to Christianity. We hear of one woman
who, after witnessing a heartrending scene and realizing that
there was no hope of escape unless to change their religion
nor any hope of mercy from the enemy, steps out on a rock
and cries : " My sisters, you must choose to-day between two
things, either deny your holy religion and adopt the Mohamme-
dan faith, or follow
my example." Then,
lifting her eyes to
heaven, she dashed
herself from the rock
into the abyss below,
and others followed
her. A proposition
was made to some of
the more attractive
women to change their
faith, in which case
their lives might be
spared. " Why should
we deny Christ ? "
they answered ; " we
are no more than
these," pointing to the
mangled forms of
their brothers and
husbands; " kill us
too" ; and they were

killed. Every true-hearted Christian ought to be filled with ad-
miration for such brave answers, and moved with sympathy for
that unfortunate people whose lot has been cast among thieves.

We see that the suggestion that they change their religion
fails of accomplishment, for they would rather die than give up
their faith. But supposing they should be driven to this, will
Christian people allow it and not come to their rescue ? I do
not mean the statesmen of Christendom, but the Christians who
sing " The world for Christ ! " who spend millions and send
their sons and daughters to evangelize the world will they not
raise their united shout and make it audible in the ears of him
VOL. LXI. 43

AN ARMENIAN FAMILY OF THE BETTER CLASS.

674 TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS. [Aug.,

who keeps his head in the sands of the Bosporus ? Indeed, if
they remain silent, the angels from above, the inhabitants of
hell beneath, and the Sultan with his hosts on earth will shout,
" There is no more Christianity in the world."

These suggestions failing, we see before this people a per-
petual struggle, endless bloodshed, and now and then extended
uprisings which will not deserve the approval of any who might
consider themselves friends of the Armenians, and which means
for them but to beard the lion in his den. I doubt if the
Armenians would entertain such a reprehensible idea. We have
heard of occasional outbursts, but they indicate the despairing
struggles of those whose burdens have become intolerable. It
is safe to say that they ask but security of life, of property,
and the right to worship God according to the dictates of con-
science, and to educate their children in the Christian faith, to
which every person is entitled by the law of God, of humanity,
and of civilization. Yet the Turks are not inclined, and obvi-
ously never will be, to grant these fundamental rights of
humanity, until a pressure is brought upon them from without,
or a general uprising combining the different elements from
within. Should there be no outburst of general indignation
from an outraged humanity, we shall be unfortunate enough to
see still further tragedies.

The Armenian question is certainly the burning question of
the hour, and its sparks must sooner or later inflame the so-
called " peace of Europe," that has thus far been maintained
by shutting ears and eyes to the horrors endured by the Asiatic
Christians. It is the question for all, and must be solved once
for all. We have to consider whether the Turk shall be com-
pelled by the powers, especially England for unless forced by
England he will never do it to grant without delay the gra-
ciously promised but shamefully ignored privileges of equality
for all subjects in the administration of the empire without dis-
crimination as to creed or race, and to keep the agreement
made by the Sultan in the Berlin Treaty and at the Cyprus Con-
vention for the protection of Christian subjects ; or whether
certain provinces, inhabited by Christians, shall be annexed to
Russia; or shall the Turks be allowed to exterminate these
Christian people ? This question should be kept before the
world in its simplicity until k is solved in one way or the
other.

Who is responsible for the shedding of this innocent blood ?
It is England. Why? Because if England had not opposed

8 9 5-]

TURKEY AND THE ARMENIAN CRISIS.

675

the treaty of San Stephano, agreed upon between the Sultan of
Turkey and Alexander II. of Russia, the reformation in Armenia
would long since have been introduced. The world is about to-
record in its history some such item as the following : " There
was a small but goodly civilized and Christian people in Asia
who became victims of the selfishness of England and were ex-
terminated in this most enlightened age." Would the English
people like to have such a blot upon their history ? I think
not. The prompt action of Great Britain, or of any other power,
depends on the support of public opinion. Since this is so,
there is a power that can overcome any obstacle that stands in
its way, namely, the people the ministers of justice and the
guardians of humanity. The indignation and sympathy of the
civilized world is almighty, and the Armenians ask nothing to-
day but the aid of that power. They do not cease to hope
for it.

Let the Powers understand that outraged humanity cannot
endure any more,
or permit such car-
nages to be repeat-
ed over and over
again. If it be true
that of one blood
God made all the na-
tions of the earth, to
dwell on the face of
the earth, then when
our brothers and
sisters are outraged
and slaughtered and
despoiled of all
that makes life
worth living, we

cannot help but wake to sympathy with them. It is enough
that the cursed demon of might has lived for centuries on the
blood of the innocent children of our God. " A government
which can countenance and cover the perpetration of such out-
rages is a disgrace to civilization and a curse to mankind," is
the belief of the Grand Old Man. It is time that a universal
shout of indignation be directed against the Monster of the Bos-
porus, the author of nameless fiendish deeds. Our liberty is in-
deed but nominal if it does not make us the missionaries of lib-
erty. The English-speaking people have been accustomed, in the

MEAL-TIME IN AN ARMENIAN HOME.

676 THE DOG WATCH. [Aug.,

time of crises like this, to say to the oppressed : " Be of good
cheer ; we are not dead ; the spirit of our fathers is alive within
us." If feelings of humanity and pity still exist on the earth,
there is no need of argument to be persuaded that the Armeni-
ans are subjected to a diabolical treatment and condemned to
annihilation for their religion. If we could realize the extent
and intensity of their suffering, we should be stirred to action
if we have not lost our chivalrous impulses and the sense of
justice and freedom.

The Armenian crisis is an established fact. There was no
need to wait for the commissioners' report. Eight months have
already passed and nothing is yet done.

THE DOG WATCH.

BY FRANK H. SWEET.

NSPEAKABLE the majesty of night,

The waning moon slow westering the sky,
The brooding depths, the vaulted heavens high,
The gleaming stars that shed their drowsy light
And make the solitude of silence bright,

The mirrored stars that in the ocean lie,
And coruscating billows rolling by,
And here and there foam splashes, dully white.

The one thing felt is silence, deep, profound,

Eternal, but for touch of wind and sea ;

A primal world that man has never trod,
Unmeasured, save for the horizon round,

And beams of sun and moon eternity !

Infinitude of space and peace and God !

1895.] MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF AS/A." 677

MORE LIGHT ON "THE LIGHT OF ASIA."

BY REV. R. M. RYAN.

'HE words, the exploits, the foibles of Napoleon
have too long occupied the attention of the
reading public or rather have been too long
foisted upon it ; for there is no reason to believe
that the world is in any way more concerned
about him for the past two years than it was during the pre-
ceding twenty. Subjects much more interesting and fruitful
now demand notice. The war just ended has drawn all men's
minds to the countries engaged in it, and, as a result, curiosity
concerning their religion, manners, customs, social life, in fact,
everything pertaining to them, has been excited, and will not
be allayed until the whole truth about them has become com-
mon property. Readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD will natur-
ally turn to its pages for exact and reliable information on the
first-mentioned topic, a subject more specially pertaining to its
sphere, and one, of all others, which is either more frequently
misrepresented or less fully and accurately treated than it
demands and deserves. If Buddhism, Shintoism, Confucianism,
Zoroastrianism, or Llamaism fare no better than Catholicism
has hitherto done at the hands of non-Catholics, no reliance
at all can be placed on what unfriendly writers say about
them.

FAIRNESS OF CATHOLIC WRITERS TO OUTSIDE RELIGIONS.

To the indisputable credit of Catholic writers, it must be
conceded that no wilful misrepresentations of others' beliefs or
practices can ever be attributed to them. It is a fact not suf^
ficiently emphasized, that our historians, as well as theologians
and polemical writers in general, are entirely free from the
bigotry, intolerance, and untruthfulness so often characteristic
of those who oppose or differ from us. The beliefs of Japan,
China, and Thibet will meet with equal justice at our hands ;
and, to insure it here, the very words of accredited exponents
are quoted in evidence rather than the suspicious second-hand
sentiments of others.

There are many reasons besides those adverted to, that

678 MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Aug.,

make an account of the religious systems of the countries
named specially opportune just now. One is, the singular
interest manifested of late for Theosophism, which is really
only a newly coined name for Buddhism, the basis of nearly
all the various Eastern religions.

OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES.

From the following it will be seen that not only Theoso-
phy, but most of the more recent revivals of ancient super-
stitions, are traceable to common sources, namely, perusal of
Eastern literature, and the tricking-out of the old Pantheism,
Gnosticism, demonology, incarnations, possessions, ancestral
worship, and cataleptic fits with the new names of " Christian "
Science, spiritism, telepathy, clairvoyance, mediumistic stances,
and Mahatmic communications. Amongst the Egyptians,
Greeks, and Romans they all flourished, only under different
names, pythonism, magic, necromancy, oracles, etc. ; but, obvi-
ously, as will appear, they meant the same things. Towards
all such a Catholic's course is clear : to cling to the infallible
teachings of the church, " the pillar and the ground of truth,"
rejecting what she condemns, avoiding what she prohibits. Up
to date she has made no mistakes in dealing with such things ;
she will not begin now. But as this does not suffice to satisfy
or recall an erring brother, it is wise and proper to seek out
the exact truth, not indeed by investigating phenomena, or
speculating on results both of which abound in delusions
but in coolly and cautiously inquiring into principles and well
authenticated historical and other facts. This is what is aimed
at in the following, which pretends not, however, to an ex-
haustive treatment of a very extensive subject.

MISCONCEPTIONS OF TERMS.

A difficulty is encountered at the very outset, that must be
at once removed. When Oriental writers speak of " religion,"
" morality," " holiness," " cultus," " purification," " salvation,"
etc., they mean entirely different things from what Christians
understand by these terms ; just as the " Christian " Scientists'
Christ and "prayer" and "confidence" differ, toto ccelo, from
what we Christians or at least Catholics mean by these
expressions. Similarly the "God" of Buddhism is not only a
different being from our personal God, but is a something
very hard to define. However, before -entering on this, it is
well to have a correct notion of Buddhism itself. And first, it is

1895-] MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" 679

to be understood that it is not a religion at all in our sense of
that word, or indeed in any sense thereof. It is rather a kind
of philosophy, without principles or system, made up of many
wise deductions, good counsels, singularly clever guesses, and
a measureless quantity of platitudes, incongruous divisions and
intellectual nonentities, that, by baffling the power of any well-
balanced mind to either realize or unravel, supplies an exhaust-
less store of mental pabulum for the meditative Eastern mind to
cogitate upon "all day long and far into the night." Herein
consists one of its most fascinating features, not only for
Orientals but for that large class of Occidentals adrift outside
the Bark of Peter, recognizing no divine and unerring authority
to guide them rightly. For nearly three thousand years the
Orient has had this conglomerate sheaf on its mental threshing
floor, and not one bushel of nutriment of anything but chaff-
has it been able to beat out of it. The more it is winnowed
the less grain remains.

PERSONALITY OF BUDDHA.

Strictly speaking, Buddha was not the founder of what is
now called after him ; he was only the collector, methodizer,
and formulator of whatever wise or ethical thought existed
in his time. Nevertheless his was a transcendently great mind
and great work, relatively to his time ; still he could hardly be
considered equal to many of the ancient Greek philosophers.
The wisdom and knowledge of Pythagoras, Plato, Socrates,
Aristotle, and many more far exceeded his, not alone in extent
but in profundity. They were argumentative and always logi-
cal ; he was neither. They were brief, clear, and well defined
as polished diamonds, both as regards matter and manner ; he
was obscure, prolix, and circumlocutive in the extreme. Take
as an instance, Hesiod's reference to the consequences of ill and
well doing ; the very point for which Buddha has received most
praise. The latter employs almost as many discourses as the
former uses sentences, although Buddha lived five hundred years
after the Greek poet, who was the contemporary of Homer,
who also far excelled the Hindu sage in sagacity, if not in
virtue. Hesiod in his Works and Days says :

" Wrong, if he yield to its abhorred control,
Shall pierce like iron to the poor man's soul :
Wrong weighs the rich man's conscience to the dust
When his foot stumbles on the way unjust.

680 MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Aug.,

Far different is the path, a path of light,
That guides the feet to equitable right.
The end of righteousness, enduring long,
Exceeds the short prosperity of wrong.
The fool by suffering his experience buys ;
The penalty of folly makes him wise."

Moreover, there are thousands now living who, if possessed of
the Buddha's extraordinary gentleness of disposition, contempt
for worldly goods, compassion for suffering, love of retirement
and contemplation, with only a scintilla of their present Christian
lore, could, if as desirous of their fellow-mortals' welfare or their
own fame, evolve a philosophic or " religious " scheme incompar-
ably superior to his. This, however, in no way diminishes his
merit, which, in some respects, is beyond all praise. Rising su-
perior to the gross, sensual, and cruel customs of his race, he in-
culcated many noble virtues, such as peacefulness, meekness, the
restraining of carnal propensities, good will to all, and bound-
less philanthropy, regardless of race, color, caste, or anything
else. This constitutes another great fascination for creedless
and credulous but kind-hearted and liberty-loving nineteenth
century men and women.

Introspection in silence and abstraction, abstemiousness and
retirement, he both inculcated and practised in an eminent
degree. No one can deny that, for an evenly balanced mind,
these things are highly conducive to the acquisition of wisdom
and contentment, and he deserves great credit for his insistence
on them. The countless thousands belonging to the Catholic
Church who in every age have made meditation the leading
exercise of their daily life, and the many others also who find
in it their chiefest soul-food, besides the myriads of her clois-
tered children in every age, testify to their appreciation of this
scrap of Buddhistic wisdom, inherited from an entirely different
source.

BUDDHA'S BIRTH AND LIFE.

But we have not stated who this " Buddha " was. Let Mr.
H. Dharmapala, of Ceylon, one of the leading scholars and
the chief official dignitary who represented Buddhism at the
World's Parliament of Religions in 1893, tell us: premising that
his testimony as to dates is accepted by European scholars
generally. Amongst these stand conspicuous James Princep,
who in 1837 deciphered the rock-cut edicts of Asoka the Great,

1 895.] MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" 68 1

at Girnar and Kapur-da-giri ; Eugene Burnouf, who published in
1844 a complete account of Buddhism ; M. Tumour and Dr.
Rhys Davids, who translated the Pali inscriptions and many
ancient MSS. discovered in the temples of Nepal and Ceylon.

Five hundred and forty-three years before Christ, Siddratha,
called also " Gotama " or " Gaudama," his family name, was born
of royal parentage in Kapilavastu, India. He is also known by
various other names in different countries, some of which, how-
ever, are rather titles expressive of his greatness. Of these that
of " Buddha " stands pre-eminent, being the most common, and
signifying the " Most Perfectly Enlightened One." The story of
his birth, the details of his life up to his twenty-ninth year, his
ascetical works, " renunciations," and final " enlightenment " are
embodied in Sir Edwin Arnold's Light of Asia. He claimed to
be the great teacher of mankind, the establisher of universal peace
and brotherhood ; in fact, the deliverer of the race from all its
defects. His wisdom is embodied in the 84,000 discourses deliv-
ered during his ministry of forty-five years, and which constitute
with their commentaries the Buddhistic Scriptures ; of which Pro-
fessor Terry says : " Every important tribe and nation which em-
braced Buddhism seems to have Buddhist scriptures of their own.
A life-time would be insufficient to explore them thoroughly."

In these words the Buddha commissioned his . disciples to
establish his " Kingdom of Righteousness " : " Go ye, O Bhikohus 1
and wander forth for the gain of many, in compassion for the
world, for the good, for the gain, for the welfare of gods and
men. . . . Preach ye a life of holiness, perfect and pure.
Go then to every country, convert those not converted. Go,
therefore, each one travelling alone, filled with compassion. Go,
rescue and receive. Proclaim that a blessed Buddha has ap-
peared in the world, and that he is preaching the law of holi-
ness." How this commission has been fulfilled needs no com-
ment. Asiatic deadness and barbarism ever since testify in
unmistakable terms. It is not a little strange that a perfectly
enlightened one should seem to know so little about the
teachers or the general human kind. With endless circumlocu-
tion he says " Go teach," seemingly oblivious of the teachers'
need of credentials and of the world's necessity of proof before
acceptance. Of these there is not a shred in Buddhism, and
nothing so embarrasses a Buddhist as a modest request for some
little other than his own fancy supplies. Hence, notwithstand-
ing all its prettiness and philanthropy, it never was received by
a race that did its own reasoning. Its indefiniteness and ineffi-

682 MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA:' [Aug.,

ciency are still further exemplified in what is called " The
essence of the vast teaching of the Buddha. It consists in :

1. The entire obliteration of all that is evil.

2. The perfect consummation of all that is good and pure.

3. The complete purification of the mind " ; without, of course,
anything being hinted as to how these very serious and weighty
works are to be accomplished. After explaining, in ten times
more words than are necessary, that other sectaries held sixty-
two different views from his own, but that his alone were
correct, he thus proves their methods wrong with what lucidity
let the reader judge for himself :

" Brethren, all these modes of teaching respecting the past
or the future, originate in the sensations experienced by re-
peated impressions made on the six organs of sensitiveness.
On account of these sensations desire is produced, in conse-
quence of desire an attachment to the desired objects, on
account of this attachment reproduction in an existent state, in
consequence of this reproduction of existence, birth. In con-
sequence of birth are produced disease, death, sorrow, weeping,
pain, grief, and discontent." If this means anything, it implies,
literally, that those born into this world have an inheritance of
sorrow ; and, figuratively, that other teachers imagined from
using their senses then took a fancy to their doctrines, then
conceived reasons for them, and finally gave them forth. They
were doomed, however, like the new-born babe, to die, but that
he had his, as he states, "by his own wisdom," and of course,
etc., etc.

" In the religion of Buddha," we are told, " is found a com-
prehensive system of ethics and a transcendental metaphysics,
embracing sublime psychology," and (if the whole truth be told)
an untenable, as well as unintelligible, cosmogony. But, unfor-
tunately, the first mentioned are superlatively ignis-fatuus com-
modities ; they can never be come up with.

BUDDHA'S GOD AN IMPERSONAL DEITY.

"Speaking of Deity in the sense of a Supreme Creator,
Buddha," says Mr. Dharmapala, "teaches there is no such being.
He, moreover, strictly forbids inquiry into the subject, as being
useless. But a supreme god of the Brahmans and minor gods
are accepted ; but they are subject to the law of cause and
effect. This supreme god is all love, all mercy, all gentle, and
looks upon all things with equanimity. There is no difference
between the perfect man and this supreme god."

1 895.] MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" 683

Theosophist advocates have used up so much eloquence in
proclaiming the grandeur, sublimity, and perfection of the
religious sentiments contained in Buddhism, that it becomes im-
portant to know exactly what it holds and teaches regarding
this great fundamental truth of all religion, God. Of this its
exponents leave us in no doubt whatever, as Buddha's own
words show. It is simply godless in the truest sense of the
word, as the following extracts will more clearly demonstrate :

Swami Vivakananda, another Buddhistic exponent and a
learned Brahman of Bombay, thus speaks of Qod : " He is
everywhere, the pure, the formless one, the almighty and the all-
merciful. He is to be worshipped as the one beloved, dearer
T:han everything in this and the next life." A little farther
on, however, he declared that " Buddhists do not depend upon
God, but the whole force of their religion is directed to the
great central truth to evolve a God out of man." After declaring
all religions the same, God being, according to his philosophy,
the inspirer of all of them, he asks : " How can the Hindu,
whose idea centres in God, believe in the Buddhism which is
agnostic, or the Jainism which is atheistic ? " Of course we
can only answer : Nobody knows.

Manilal N. DVivedi, another scholarly Brahman, said : " God,
in the sense of a personal creator of the universe, is not known
in the Veda ; . . . he is to be seen in all that is."

Mr. V. A. Gandhi, a Hindu lawyer, said that Jainism, which
he represented, with its faith professed by 1,500,000 in India
was older than Buddhism and similar to it in ethics, but differed
from it in its idea of God, which he defined to be : "A subtle
essence underlying all substances and the eternal cause of all
modifications but not personal."

Rev. Horin Toki, of Japan, a Buddhist priest, made the
matter more complicated by trying to explain, that although
Buddhism does not admit a Creator, it does not deny a God.
Obviously, then, such a god must not have ownership of creation
unless he either usurped or purchased it. If the latter, he must
have stolen or created something. Therefore, etc.

Professor Valentine, who made an exhaustive study of the
** Harmonies and Distinctions of the theistic teaching of the
various historic faiths," is inclined to the view of those who
doubt the totally atheistic character of Buddhism. He claims
it as certain that its teaching was not dogmatic atheism.
Whether this be so or not, enough has been said to show that
confusion and doubt predominate on this first and most essen-

684 MOKE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Aug. r

tial point of religion. With the foundation tottering how is a
structure to remain stable ?

OTHER DOCTRINES OF BUDDHA.

Of the other doctrines of Buddha it is difficult to give a
clear and sufficiently brief account. Excepting a few truisms,,
which anybody using their senses and ordinary intelligence
could equally well conceive and give forth, the others are so-
commonplace as not to need reference, or so obviously absurd
and contradictory that no half-educated American or European
would concern himself about them at all. When one turns to-
those carefully prepared papers of professors and official
spokesmen to find out the precise peculiarities of Buddha's
teaching, he becomes utterly bewildered. Take, for instance, that
of the " Right Rev. Banriu Yatsubuchi," of Japan evidently
an able and well-read man in Buddhistic lore. Any one that
could make anything out of it, other than rhapsody pure and
simple, must have powers of comprehension and interpretation
of no ordinary kind. It is in vain that one reads it over and
over again in hopes of making out something definite or con-
sistent. Here is the most intelligible paragraph in the whole
paper : " Kukyo Soku the situation of one who can leave totally
original ignorance and witness the ultimate stage of enlighten-
ment. Although there are six differences, in order to show the
difference of depth of shallowness, enlightenment, and ignorance,
yet they have the same thing or instinct through all. Spirit and
matter, or mind and object, occupy the Truth. When they
come together they make out two works, the transitive and in-
transitive. ... So, if one does not neglect to purify his mind
and to increase power of wisdom, he may take in spiritual world
or space, a'nd have cognizance of past, present, and future in his
mind " (The World's Parliament of Religions, vol. i. page 717).
In other words, he can become as good a fortune-teller as the
other fellow for his pains. No wonder that the catechism
now used in the Buddhist schools of India was written by a
Yankee.

The fact is, Europeans and Americans with " itching ears "
(and palms?) know more about this unknowable nonsense than
those to the manner born, and there is no good reason why they
should not.

Turning to Mr. Dharmapala, already quoted, and who is
the most coherent of the expositors, we find him familiarly
quoting the German, French, and English agnostic philosophers,

1 89 5.] MORE LIGHT ON " THJZ LIGHT OF ASIA." 685

.as if seeking in their teachings for some correspondence with
those he found (or thought he found) in Buddhist literature.
Of course he succeeds. He would find such anywhere, because
it is plain and this Buddha in so many words asserted you
can take whatever meaning you please out of what he (Buddha)
teaches ; as he asserted the enlightened would take one meaning
.and the others another, and both be correct ; thus showing
he was an adept in modern sophistry, which practically claims
that truth is subjective, not objective. Hence we find "evolu-
tion " attributed to him, the brotherhood of man and the father-
hood of God, the impalpable virtues of Freemasonry, the realiza-
tion of the unseen, " thought transference, thought reading, clair-
.audience, clairvoyance, projection of the subconscious self, and all
the higher branches of psychical science, that just now engage
the thoughtful attention of psychical researchers " (page 870).

THE MORAL SYSTEM OF BUDDHISM.

Mixed up with all this there are, nevertheless, some excellent
recommendations. However, they can hardly be called peculiar
to Buddhistic teaching, inasmuch as all men at all times admitted
and adhered to them as truthful and admirable, if they did not
individually practise them. These are amongst the best : " A
man desiring to be happy abstains from theft, passes his life in
honesty and purity of heart. He lives a life of chastity and
purity. He abstains from falsehood and injures not his fellow-
,man by deceit. Putting away slander, he abstains from calumny.
He is a peace-maker, a speaker of words that make for peace.
Whatever word is humane, pleasant to the ear, lovely, teaching,
reaching to the heart such words he speaks. He abstains from
harsh language, from foolish talk, intoxicants, and stupefying
drugs." Quoting these as Buddhistic is an insult to one's in-
telligence, for do they not constitute the moral code of " every
nation, tribe, and tongue under the sun " that ever pretended
to any morality or civilization ? Were they not known and
practised by the human race from the beginning, and formally
proclaimed by divine authority nearly 2,500 years before Gau-
tama was born ? Have they not also been universally acknowl-
edged up to date by those who never heard of Buddhism.
What new lights, new motives, or new impulses does Buddhism
impart to them ?

It is inculcated as a " higher " morality to forsake home, cut
off one's beard, be clothed in orange-colored robes, and go forth

686 MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA." [Aug.,

into a. homeless state. Further, " The Realization of the Un-
seen " is promised to such as lead an absolutely pure life. Of
this Buddha says : " Let kirn fulfil all righteousness, let him be
devoted to that quietude of heart which springs from within, let
him not drive back the ecstasy of contemplation, let him look
through things, let him be much alone. Fulfil all righteousness
for the sake of the living and for the sake of the beloved ones
that are dead and gone." For the sake of the dead too !

NIRVANA.

" The Ultimate Goal of Man " is eternal peace or rest Nir-
vana, as it is called which in the Buddhist sense is hard to under-
stand to be other than a kind of annihilation. Preceding it, and
in purchase of it, a never-ceasing process of birth, death and re-
birth, must go on until perfect purification eventuates ; when this
" Nirvana " is attained, which is possible even here on earth.
The physical death then supervening ends all, and there is no
other birth in an " objective world. The gods see him not, nor
does man." This is analogous to the dream so fondly cherished
by many pagans at the dawn of Christianity, and believed in,
or at all events talked about, by pantheists still, who try to give
consistency to their unphilosophic systems by asserting that the
" all is God " and " God is the all."

This leads up to another dogma of Buddhism Metempsy-
chosis for which, it need hardly be stated, there is not offered
a shred of evidence that one freely using reason could accept.
For Buddhists to assert as proof of it, that they remember inci-
dents of previous incarnations, is making a demand on credulity
that no one west of the Euphrates and Tigris will concede. In
that fruitful source of curious fancies, the cranium of a Hindu
poetaster, the idea, doubtless, originated. To the mystic and
the story-teller what charming fields it affords for fervid fancy
to roam over in following out the details of one's imagined life,
it may be as the terror of the jungle a thousand years ago, or
as a great ruler of nations ere falling from grace ! No wonder
it should be cherished with a fondness only paralleled by a
Christian's tenacious adhesion to the sweet and consoling doc-
trine of an everlasting reward full and overflowing for even the
least action done for Christ ! Then, too, it so softly panders
to the pride of the wise an-d good man who has advanced to
the very threshold of Buddhaship itself ; for this is the hope
and aim of those holding to it.

1895.] MORE LIGHT ON " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" 687

A MECHANICAL UNIVERSE.

With a reference to one more dogma reiterated in season
and out of season by Buddhist expositors this sketch may close,
namely, that of " Cause and Effect," that is expressed accord-
ing to our matter-of-fact mode of speech " Every effect has a
cause to which it is proportioned." This simple physical law
Buddha pushed over into the moral order, to the extreme of
fatalism, which saps the foundation of all personal responsibility.
But this latter is even paraded as the grand liberty-imparting
doctrine of the whole system, whereas, if carried to its logical
consequences, it would be its utter destruction, as any reason-
able mind will perceive by a little unprejudiced reflection. Any-
how, the thing is not Buddhistic at all, no more than breath-
ing, thinking, walking, and other human actions are Asiatic,
rather than European.

In conclusion, what judgment are we constrained to pass on
this long and much-talked-of religion of the East ? After giving
Buddha, as we have done, all the credit he is entitled to, but
one remains namely, that Buddhism, at its best, is no more than
Buddha and his ablest apologists claimed for it, A SYSTEM OF
PHILOSOPHY, and, as we have shown, a very sorry one at that ;
that it is not, either in fact or effect, a religion at all ; and
that by no possibility could it be made a substitute for real
religion. What, then, must be thought of the ignorance, stupidity,
or perversity of those modern savants who persist in so miscall-
ing it, and using it as an argument against Christianity, to dis-
prove the universality of the latter, by claiming that its adhe-
rents are outnumbered two to one by those of Buddhism ? How
preposterous this is will appear more fully when we come to
consider the endless contradicting sects existing, each claiming
to be the only simon-pure Buddhists.

688 FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. [Aug.,

FROM DOUBT TO FAITH.

HEN asked to tell how I was led from ultra-Prot-
estantism into the Catholic fold, it seemed my
experience must be so nearly like that of many
others that it was altogether unnecessary. Yet
there would always be variations on some minor
points, and no one can tell what word of theirs is being in-
scribed on the phonographic roll of some person's mind, to be
re-echoed throughout all their lives.

While recalling the words of others which have had the most
influence over my own inner life, I found it was often some
chance expression, probably forgotten in the moment of its
utterance. It is with the sincere desire that something of this
may be permitted to help in making clearer the pathway of
another, that I tell how I was guided through the valley of
Doubt to the highlands of Faith.

One who can accept unquestioned whatever they are taught
regarding the creation and destiny of the human race, must
find life easier than those who seem born only to doubt and
question. I cannot remember the time when I was not always
asking "How?" and "Why?"

My parents (both New England people) were members of
the Methodist Church, but were more attentive to carrying out
the principles of Christianity in daily life than a mental accept-
ance of any creed. During the conflicts of later years, when
the world seemed to be ruled by a power that brushed aside
or crushed the obstructions in its way, as unheeding of human
suffering as the railroad train, two passages in the Bible stood
out as in letters of light against the blackness. One was " God
is Love." However, this did not bring him very near to the
heart which felt the need of a personal sympathy; but when I
read that " Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord
pitieth them that fear him," I could come nearer to understand-
ing what his love meant, for my personal experiences had taught
me what a father's love was.

Self-sacrificing at all times, my loving watcher in sickness,
my sympathetic friend in every-day life ; if God was like this
to his children, he could not permit anything to befall them

I895-] FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. 689

which was not for their good. This held me for years, while
everything else of Christian creed or church dogma was vague,
unsatisfactory, undefined.

At the age of fourteen, feeling the responsibility for a moral
and religious part of my being that demanded some action on
my part towards its cultivation, I made a public move in that
direction at a camp-meeting. The satisfaction that, I think, will
always result from conscientiously trying to perform any duty
was mine for a time, and, at the wish of my parents, I united
with the Methodist Church. In trying to bring my life up to a
Christian standard I found that it was not so easily done as I
supposed. I had an idea that after what they called " conver-
sion," I would find right-living comparatively an easy thing.
But when these exalted feelings left me, as the outgoing tide
leaves the vessel resting in the mud, instead of floating over
sunlit waves, something had to take the place of them. There
seemed to be nothing left but trying and failing and trying
again ; as I knew that even earthly happiness could never be
found by allowing my worldly nature to subordinate the higher.

Attentive to those helps offered by the church (class and
prayer meetings), I drifted along, sometimes, during special ser-
vices, regaining the old feelings, and the rest of the time lived
about the average life of ordinary people. All this while I was
never satisfied with the doctrinal teachings of the church as ex-
pressed in the Discipline and taught by the preachers ; who,
by the way, contradicted each other on some points which now
began to press very closely upon my attention. The orthodox
teaching as to the fate of those who died without any outward
demonstration of faith in Christ, or " making a profession of
religion," seemed to be, that they were hopelessly lost, although
in many respects their lives might be better examples of heroic
self-sacrifice than those of some of their judges, who were
" members of the church." As this was during the Civil War,
such doctrine I could not endure. How did these teachers
know what the inner lives of such might be ?

One preacher told us that he did not doubt there were
" souls in eternal torment to-day because some in this congre-
gation have neglected their duty " (he was urging the claims
of missions).

The idea of such injustice, as the everlasting punishment of
one person for the sin of another ! The feeling of unrest was
not made any less by these teachings, and afterwards, on be-
coming acquainted with the doctrines of the Baptist Church as
VOL. LXI. 44

690 FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. [Aug.,

to " believer's baptism," I performed what I believed to be a
Christian duty, and was received into that church. I had
always questioned my infant baptism in the Methodist Church,
and, as they administer the rite, it seems to me now wholly
without meaning. They say that baptism is the recognized
mode of entrance into the church, but they never consider
baptized infants as members.

As to the most of the church creeds and doctrinal teach-
ings, I forgot them all I could, and found much pleasure in
listening to the preaching of those who took broad and deep
views of the provision God had made for the moral welfare of
his children, and did not listen to any other when I could help
it. Both my parents having died during this time, I was free
from any home duties, and went to live in a large city. I
was received into one of the churches there by letter, and en-
joyed the intellectual provision furnished by the city pulpits ;
heard most of the eminent preachers of the day, and learned
much of what was taught by the different denominations, both
orthodox and liberal. Of course I could not help noticing how
widely they differed on what they considered essential to a
Christian Church, while each professed to find its creed in an
infallible Bible. I had often wondered how the Bible came into
existence in its present form, and after awhile I found out.
This, together with the revision it was being subjected to at
that time, did not tend to increase any respect which I might
hold as to its authority, and placed it more than ever in need
of an unerring guide to explain its meaning. I saw also that,
so far as being considered an infallible guide to Protestants
generally, the idea of its infallibility was undermined long ago
by the more liberal scholarship of their own faith. Most of
those whom I questioned on the subject seemed to think that
it could be bsst treated by a good deal of discreet silence.
During this time my attention was not given exclusively to reli-
gious teachers, and I found much that was interesting and helpful
in such authors as Herbert Spencer and many others of that
class, but I did not find a resting-place among them all. On
speaking of these things to those who perhaps might help me,
I was told that " there is enough plainly revealed to help us to
live right, and one must believe what they can."

Thrown back upon myself, I found that to follow this out
to its logical result would be to reject the Bible altogether, as of
any especial authority except as it commended itself to one's
own judgment, like all other books. Indeed, this was the sub-

1895.] FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. 691

stance of a reply to some inquiries on the subject that I sent
to a prominent clergyman of the city :

" So much of the Bible is inspired for you as inspires you
to a more helpful, loying, earnest life."

One thing remained of my past, and that was a belief in an
omnipotent Ruler of the universe, who was also wise and good ;
but of any personal relation to this power I had almost no
consciousness, although I never quite lost the feeling that
some outside influence was affecting my life, in various ways.
Some works of a psychological nature, also some on mental
science, which I read about this time, helped to strengthen
these impressions. Near the close of this period the shadows
deepened and darkened over all my outward life, from day to
day, and a storm was arising in the distance which was to test
my endurance to the utmost when it came. I thought all that
it was possible to live under was there before, but this was
like being plunged into the ocean in the midst of a storm, with
no help in sight.

I was scarcely sure at that time whether I really believed in
a God or not, but felt utterly helpless. I had no resource ex-
cept to call, if perchance there was any one to hear and answer.

Sending the message forth as I did, there was necessarily an
implied promise on my part to trust in the help if it came. I
could imagine no possible way in which it could come, but in
less than two days (to continue the simile of an ocean storm)
a life-preserver dropped near me almost as miraculously as if
sent from the skies. That kept me afloat for a few days, after
which a life-boat came in sight in which I could safely remain
until the storm was over. During the previous five or six
years I had often thought about the Catholic Church and tried
to find out more about it, but as I had never met any of that
faith except uneducated people, did not make much progress
in the investigations. The usual Protestant prejudices, arising
from such books as D'Aubigne's History of the Reformation and
some sensational books and newspaper stories on the subject,
did not encourage me to go very far in trying to find out what
that church really did teach, and I supposed there was not
much to learn about this, except what I already knew. Yet I
tried several times to see the priest who had charge of a large
church near us, and whose reputation as to Christian and per-
sonal character had won the respect of all who knew him, irre-
spective of creed. He was not at home when I called, and I
let the subject drop.

692 FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. [Aug.,

If any one ever feels the need of some one who takes an
interest in their well-being, and to whom they can go for coun-
sel and sympathy, feeling that their trust is not misplaced, it is
a stranger in a large city. The thought often occurred to me
if the confessional is anything more than a mere form, the fact
that there is some one to whom they can safely confide their
inmost thoughts and needs of the soul, must be a strong hold
on the Catholics. The doctrine of " Purgatory " did not seem
as unreasonable to me as it would to many, for on this subject
I was not an " orthodox " Protestant. The doctrine of " Tran-
substantiation " seemed not more difficult of acceptance than
those held by all orthodox Protestants as to the " Miraculous
Conception " and " Resurrection."

But that it was impossible that the Pope should do wrong,
or even make a mistake (for I thought that was what his infal-
libility meant), seemed too absurd for any person of intelligence
to believe. I supposed the principal teachings of that church
were, to obey the priest, pay all one could afford towards
the support of the church (and probably a little more), say cer-
tain prayers regularly, and go to confession.

During the last year or two I remained in the city several
things occurred which convinced me that the ideas I held about
the Catholic Church would bear revision on several points.

The action of the Pope's representative in America in regard
to a number of cases referred to him for settlement, and his
public speeches on several occasions, tended to keep this sub-
ject of the Catholic Church prominently in mind, and also
gave me to understand that I was farther than ever from know-
ing what expressions of opinion by prominent authorities in
that church were of the nature of essential Catholic doctrine,
and which merely expressed the personal opinions of their authors.

About this time I left the city, to live in a new part of the
country ; but before I left found that " Papal Infallibility "
only meant that the head of the visible church was divinely
guarded from error when defining, in his official capacity, " any
doctrine of faith or morals." This seemed a little more rea-
sonable, and only according to the promise that the Holy
Spirit would be with the church, "guiding into all truth."
Thus one thing after another continued to upset all my pre-
conceived opinions as to what the Catholic Church really was,
and I felt more inclined than ever to find out if possible. It
seemed like a hopeless undertaking, so far from any public
library, or any person to whom I could go for help in my

1 895.] FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. 693

inquiries. The local Catholic organization was principally com-
posed of people speaking another language. The services con-
sisted of Mass and a sermon, once a month, by a priest who
came from a place two hundred miles away, and who was only
there over that one Sunday. As I lived some distance from
town, my prospects for help in this direction did not seem to
promise much.

A quotation from Cardinal Manning in one of our papers
led me to again take up the subject, and write to the editor
of the paper containing the quotation. He seemed to under-
stand what I wanted, and said he would select some book for
me if I wished to leave it to his judgment. I was very glad
to do this, and sent an order to him asking him to send, with
the book, a copy of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, as I did not know
where it was published, but had seen a quotation from it in
one of the reviews and wished to read the whole article. Car-
dinal Newman's Sermons to Mixed Congregations was sent, also
a copy of THE CATHOLIC WORLD containing the article I
wanted to read " The Essential Goodness of God," by the
Rev. A. F. Hewit. I read it, wrote to its author for further
information, and then gave attention to the " Sermons " of
Cardinal Newman. They did not seem to give any very defi-
nite answers to my questions ; but one day while reading the
sermon on " Doubt and Faith " the question suddenly came to
me as distinctly as if some one had been in the room asking
it : " If you should find this to be the truth, are you ready to
follow it ? "

I said to myself, " What a question ! There is no proba-
bility that I'll find the truth among all these things, that now
look so unreasonable." " But," the questioner said, " that is
not the point at all ; are you willing to follow it, if you do see
it to be the truth ? "

There was nothing for me now but a plain "Yes" or
" No " ; for I had always believed that the truth could never
be found if searched for in any other spirit than a willingness
to follow it when found, wherever it might lead. I now became
aware of the fact that I must stop just where I was, or go on until
I had followed this out to some conclusion. The very hesita-
tion I felt in answering showed me how far I was already on
the way to Rome, for unless I had been conscious of some
undercurrent tending in that direction, I could have answered
the question at once.

I knew there was nothing to be gained by stopping where I

694 FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. [Aug.,

was, and decided to go on ; for, after all, this committed me to
nothing, unless I was convinced that this way was the right way.

I had yet many questions to ask, many objections to over-
come, many things to learn, and many doubts to solve ; but
having given this proof of my sincerity in the search, help came
to me from unexpected sources.

In his reply to my letter of inquiry the Rev. A. F. Hewit
recommended some books, for which I sent to the Catholic
Book Exchange. There was a slight omission in both order
and the return from the Exchange, which made one or two
letters necessary. In one of mine I said, in effect, that I hoped
the books would help to settle some of my doubts, as there
was no one here to whom I could apply for such assistance.
Within a week or so I received a letter from some one con-
nected with the Exchange, asking me to communicate with the
writer in regard to any questions I might wish to have
answered on this subject. The very help I most needed, but
saw no way of obtaining !

Among the books sent was Catholic Belief, which cleared
away a great deal of the rubbish that I had always taken for
granted was Catholic teaching, because I had always heard it
quoted as such by those who presumed to know.

My friend at the Book Exchange sent several little books
that I found helpful, especially Cardinal Newman's on the
Pope and Conscience, which was a great assistance in clearing
the way. Except, however, for the more definite and personal
help he gave by way of explanations and counsel, I do not
know how much longer I might have remained " almost per-
suaded." He directed me to the Great Teacher for help, and
was not slow in assuring me that he was making my needs a
special subject of prayer every day. The consciousness of this
helped me, perhaps, more than anything else could have done.

On Easter morning, as I sat in church, I was suddenly con-
scious that all opposition had given way, and I was willing to
be anything or do anything that God required. The next week
a letter from my friendly helper told me that he had made an
especial request for me, to that effect, while celebrating
Mass on Easter morning. (" And it shall come to pass that
before they call, I will answer ; and while they are yet speaking I
will hear.") During this time I had met the priest in charge of
the local church, and he was willing to receive me into the
Catholic Church whenever I was satisfied that I understood its
requirements and was ready to comply with them.

1895.] FROM DOUBT TO FAITH. 695

A few months previous to my reception into the church, on
meeting one of that faith who was well educated and intelli-
gent, I improved my opportunity of asking some questions
about the teachings of that church ; but, trained from childhood
in that faith, my friends had not paid much attention to such
problems, and I did not find much help in solving them from
this source. A few spare moments in intervals of business were
all I had for such questions as they could readily answer; but
I saw that if they could not formulate a reason for the faith
they held, it was their faith, in very truth. After a time they
seemed to understand that I was not asking questions simply to
gratify an idle cariosity, and on one occasion (perhaps soon
forgotten by them, but never by me) they referred me to the
Blessed Virgin, to whom they alluded as their " dearest and
best friend," saying " I think it will help you ; I know it has
helped me."

Something came into my life then that has never left me
since ; I have had an abiding consciousness of especial help and
guardianship from that hour. This incident may be one explan-
ation of an " undercurrent " to which I have alluded. There
has* been an unusual proportion of things to depress and dis-
courage, occurring since that time ; but they have not had
power to do this, only for the moment. A sense of personal
help in my every-day life has become an ever-present con-
sciousness.

It only remains now to tell of my final submission to the
authority of the church.

Thoroughly convinced by personal experiences of many
things utterly beyond the power of human reason to explain, I
saw that faith must enter into the problem somewhere, if one
was ever to find rest. It appeared to me that the faith de-
manded by the Catholic Church was no more in conflict with
reason than the daily miracles going on all around us, which
we must accept or deny our own existence.

Thus, as expressed by the pen of another, I " found the
light after dreary years of struggle, and peace to the soul after
the battle of contradictory opinions ; faith came to rule, and
tired reason thanks God for the end of the conflict."

When asked if I believe in miracles, I can only say, that no
miracle could astonish me any more than the unaccountable
change that has taken place in my own mind and heart. If
questioned as to the way in which it was accomplished, only
the language of the blind man whose eyes the Master opened

696

SALVE VALE.

[Aug.

occurs to me in reply: "One thing I know: that whereas I was
blind, now I see."

Reason did her work thoroughly up to the verge of the
chasm, over which no bridge can ever be constructed except by
Faith.

SALVE.

BY M. E. HENRY-RUFFIN.

f SPARKLING flagon of new wine now breaks,
Drenching the enraptured land and sea :
The wine of welcome, flowing forth to thee,
The draught that even sober Nature takes
Out of my brimming spirit ; and awakes,
Within her own, my pulse of ecstasy.

She sheds her smiles and music over me ;

Out of my mood a glowing summer makes.

Whence flows the wine that can intoxicate
The long familiar scene, with grace unknown ?
It gushes forth, as comes the hasty dawn,
When tardy clouds withhold the Eastern gate :
Comes with a sudden melody thy tone
Upon the breeze, thy step upon the lawn.

VALE.

Nature! turn the bitter cup away.

1 drink the darkness of thy sullen hours ;

The deadly draught thy kindly sense o'erpowers :
And all the earth is drunk with my dismay.
Steeped in my joy the happy landscape lay.
Farewell ! The frost upon the trusting flowers,
The scene is black beneath the blighting showers
Of Farewell and Farewell! that still I say.

Farewell ! I taste the potion that must all,

With its own bitterness, inebriate.

In its dark dregs it quenches all the light.

I feel each drop with cruel burning fall,

As fades, upon the distance desolate,

Thy voice as faints thy step upon the night.

SINCE the publication of the article on the Re-
naissance Popes, vols. iii. and iv. of that masterly
work, Dr. Pastor's Lives of the Popes* have come
to hand. They deal with portions of the period
covered by that article, and the most biassed reader
who takes them up to find proofs of partiality in them must
admit that nothing has been extenuated if naught has been set
down in malice. The popes whose lives are dealt with were
pontiffs of great eminence namely, Pius II., Paul II., and Six-
tus IV. Their lot was cast when Europe was in a peculiarly
transitional state, and when all the East was convulsed with the
havoc wrought by the Turks amongst old-established systems
and dynasties. An impartial study of Dr. Pastor's work will
show that two at least of them were men of extraordinary emi-
nence as statesmen, while all three were men of exemplary piety
and zeal for the interests of religion and reformation of the
abuses which had crept into the religious life of the church.
The most scrupulous care is seen to have been exercised by
the author in the weighing of testimony for and against the
subjects of his memoirs. The authorities on both sides are
cited in every case, and the opinions of the most trustworthy
experts and commentators are also put in evidence. Much of
the historical data is drawn from the secret archives of the
Vatican, other portions from the private collections of docu-
ments of the great Italian families. The literary method of
Dr. Pastor leaves no ambiguity. He never generalizes or moral-
izes as Ranke does, but presents his case with all the precision
and minuteness of a lawyer preparing a brief. Against one of
the three popes named several Italian writers, notably Infessura,
had circulated terrible charges, only one of which, viz., that of

* The History of the Popes, from the close of the Middle Ages. Drawn from the secret
archives of the Vatican and other original sources. From the German of Dr. Ludwig Pastor,
Professor of History in the University of Innsbruck. Edited by Frederick Ignatius Antrobus,
of the Oratory. London : Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., limited ; New York :
Benziger Brothers.

698 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

nepotism, Dr. Pastor finds well founded. Infessura was a viru-
lent partisan of the Colonna, who were incessant in hostility to
Sixtus IV.; and other writers who endeavored to implicate him
in the Pazzi conspiracy against the Medici were equally rabid
partisans of that faction. Dr. Pastor finds, with regard to this
conspiracy, that although the pope knew that it was being
hatched, he set his face against it ; and indeed the evidence of
the chief witness, Montesecco, fully bears out this verdict.

The great dream of his life, with Pius II., was the over-
throw of the Mohammedan power in the East, and especially in
the Holy Land, and he labored night and day for many years
to promote a great crusade for that purpose. He only partially
succeeded, owing to the duplicity and selfishness of the Vene-
tian government, but he died at Ancona, at the head of a con-
siderable expedition which he had got together to make a last
effort against the Turks. He was broken down by bodily in-
firmities when he undertook this onerous and hazardous enter-
prise, yet the courage and perseverance he displayed all through
were heroic in the highest degree. There is something pro-
foundly pathetic in the time and manner of his death, when,
after many grievous disappointments and delays, he seemed
to be on the eve of witnessing at least a partial realization of
his great life-dream. Pius II. belonged to a family distinguished
for many centuries in Catholic annals. His name in the world
was yEneas Sylvius Piccolomini. His pontificate lasted from
August, 1458, to August, 1464. He was the only pope who per-
sonally led a crusade.

The successor of Pius II. was Cardinal Pietro Barbo, a Vene-
tian prelate, whose mother was a sister of Pope Eugenius IV.,
and who had himself enjoyed that pontiff's supervision in his
student days. He was a man of the most generous and lovable
disposition, and was the idol of the populace because of his un-
bounded chanty and the personal attention which he bestowed
on their physical ailments, he being skilful in medical pursuits,
He was hardly installed in the papacy when he was called upon
to take decisive measures against the leaders of the Pagan
Renaissance, who had hatched a conspiracy for his destruction
and a general revolt against Christianity. In this crisis he acted
with great foresight and firmness, and did not allow his indig-
nation against the spurious learning to prejudice him against
the claims of genuine scholarship. After his death a number of
foul statements were circulated concerning him by Humanist
libellers, chiefly Platina ; but no historian has ever attached the

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 699

slightest credence to these attacks, so plain was their malicious
intent.

The character of Sixtus IV. has been assailed by the English
historian Roscoe, but the authority on which he bases his
worst charges is now rejected by every decent historian.
Schmarsow, De' Conti, and Tiraboschi bear testimony to this
Pope's kindliness, generosity, and care for his subjects. But he
was, unfortunately, too much dominated in his policy by two
of his kinsmen, Pietro and Girolamo Riario. These two men,
despite the fact that they were ecclesiastics, were mixed up
with most of the political and financial intrigues of Italy at the
time of their uncle's pontificate, and he often weakly allowed
himself to play into their hands. This is the utmost that can
be alleged to his disadvantage. In summing up his review of
his pontifical career Schmarsow says :

" When we remember that this man was a poor friar, sud-
denly transformed into the mightiest pontiff of his age, we are
struck with astonishment at finding nowhere in him the least
trace of the straitened surroundings of his youth and early
training. Instead of the narrowness and pettiness we should
expect, we find him entering into the spirit of the past, and
making the magnificent taste of the day his own to a degree
that no other pope had done. We see him vying with the
most renowned Italian princes in raising his capital from the
dust and degradation of centuries of ruin to be a seat of splen-
dor, a worthy and beautiful abode ; endeavoring not merely to
place her on an equality with the greatest cities of Italy, but to
make her once more the intellectual, literary, and artistic centre
of the world. Noting all this, we are filled with respect for a
man so capable and so powerful, in spite of some violence in
his temper and inequalities in his character. Notwithstanding
all his faults, there is something imposing in the first of the
Rovere popes ; we are constrained to admire him, and without
hesitation place him on a level with his predecessor, Nicholas V.,
and his nephew and successor, Julius II."

We are indebted to the courtesy of the officials of the
Chanty Organization Society of New York for copies of the,
sixth edition of their valuable Directory to the Charitable and
Benevolent Societies, Institutions, and Churches of the city.
Looking cursorily at the contents of this guide-book, we should
say that the functions of the society are no mere sinecure.
The compilation of the book alone, as we learn from the pre-

700 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

face, was a task involving many months of weary labor. Eleven
different classes of charities are categorized in its table of con-
tents ; showing a total of sixteen hundred and ninety-five insti-
tutions. This is an enormous amount for one city. It is' a
fact which speaks trumpet-tongued for the benevolent spirit and
lavishness in giving which, without much boasting or ostenta-
tion, characterize the wealthy section of New York society.

We cannot speak too highly of the literary excellence of
the directory. In this respect there is nothing to be desired.
Without the waste of a single line of type, every institution
catalogued is described succinctly and with sufficient amplitude
for all practical purposes its accommodations, objects, manage-
ment, rules, and resources. There is, besides, a list of the
other leading charity organizations in the United States and
foreign countries, and an exhaustive index of the whole con-
tents. Such are, iri brief, the features which render this volume
a model directory of its kind.

Mr. Frank R. Stockton has developed a considerable degree
of energy lately in the field of startling invention. It must be
owned that he presents his Munchausen sort of narratives in a
much more acceptable form than Mr. Ryder Haggard's meri-
dional visions. The latest effort of Mr. Stockton's is a tale of
land and sea in which one Captain Horn* meets some things
remarkable enough to be told to " her Majesty's marines." The
discovery of the gold hidden by the Incas, brought about in a
very surprising way, is one of the leading episodes, and the
complications which arise to Captain Horn and others from this
piece of strange luck form good exercise for Mr. Stockton's
inventive talents. The style of the work is good, and so the
effect of improbability in the incidents is sensibly relieved. In
literature of this kind our old friend, the immortal Defoe, has
left us a model which has never been excelled, and in follow-
ing this, and not the extravagance of the oriental tale-tellers,
Mr. Stockton has done wisely. The last chapter is the only
objectionable one in the book. It attempts to describe a
Scotch scene and some Scotch characters; and the attempt is
as that of one who knew but very little indeed of either.

How large a share the old classic myths of Greece still hold
in literature, and how deeply they have affected modern poetry,

The Adventures of Captain Horn. By Frank R. Stockton. New York : Charles
Scnbner's Sons.

1 895-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 701

are not often borne in mind. It is well to be sometimes
reminded of our heavy indebtedness to the ancients in this
regard. A new book on literary study * by Margaret S.
Mooney is serviceable in this respect. The compiler is the
teacher of literature and rhetoric at the State Normal College,
Albany, N. Y. Her object in publishing the work is to fulfil
one of the functions of education in our day namely, to sys-
tematize, to give the most definite idea of an object of study
with the minimum expenditure of trouble in the search.

The chief myths of Hellenic origin, or older still, the Indo-
Egyptian, are dealt with in this elegant volume, and it will be
found helpful to the student to have the best poetical render-
ings of these by ancient and modern poets grouped together.
In this manner the student can achieve a two-fold object
familiarity with the body of the legend and a comparison of
the different sets of thought to which it had given rise in the
minds of successive lyrists. The selections are made with judg-
ment, and in many cases copies of famous sculptures embody-
ing the ideas presented help out the student's imagination or
afford a relief from the process of literary study. The book is
beautifully produced, as to letter-press and illustrations, by the
publishers.

The false romance of the Indian tribes and territories has
been written for us by Cooper and a few imitators ; the real
romance has yet to be penned. It was enacted long ago by
the brave missionary priests who went out, their only weapon
the crucifix and their only armor prayer, into the pathless
forest and the bleak wilderness to reclaim the children of the
setting sun from the paths of animal ferocity. Father Thomas
Donohue, D.D., of Buffalo, has given us a new work on the
labors of the missionaries amongst the Iroquois f which enables
us to form some idea of the character of the sacrifices and suf-
ferings of the early missionaries. He has based his work chiefly
on the " Relations " of the Jesuits, and has filled in these inter-
esting accounts with the help of much topographical and docu-
mentary evidence procured from various civil and military
authorities in the United States and Canada. One of the
points most strongly brought out in this useful work is the

* Foundation Studies in Literature. By Margaret S. Mooney, Teacher of Literature and
Rhetoric, State Normal College, Albany, N. Y. New York, Boston, Chicago : Silver, Bur-
dett & Co.

t The Iroquois and the Jesuits. By Rev. Thomas Donohue, D.D. Buffalo, N. Y. : Buf-
falo Catholic Publication Co.

702 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

frightful obstacle to the civilizing of the Indian tribes which
the introduction of strong drink by the Dutch, French, and
English always proved. The simple Indians were not subtle
enough to understand such a paradox as the advent of the
rum-barrel as an adjunct to white civilization, and whenever
they succumbed to the temptations of the " fire-water " it had
the effect of driving them further and further away from the
influence of the priests of a purer civilization.

The ground covered by Father Donohue's baok is very
extensive. He deals with the labors of many of the more emi-
nent French missionaries,- and gives us careful narratives of the
conversion of chiefs like Garacontie and other great Iroquois.
It is a narrative which cannot be read without emotion. No
record of suffering and persecution of any period can surpass
it in all the elements of tragic horror and sublime heroism. To
the Catholic especially it is a work of the most profound
interest. Mournful as its tale too often is, it cannot but fill
the mind with that justifiable pride we feel in the heroic deeds
of men whom we may claim in a sense as our kith and kin,
inasmuch as they are of our own household of faith.

The valedictory triumph of Holy Cross College this year
was the presentation of a Greek play. The story of Eutropius
and the career of St. John Chrysostom formed the foundation
of the work. Starting out, in orthodox Greek fashion, with a
prologue, the play is made up of six divisions and four choruses.
The libretto or text is entirely the work of the pupils of
the college. An analysis and history of the work, together
with the text of the English rendering of much of the chorus
metre, are given as the college souvenir for this year. Combined
with these there are many specimens of the poetical strivings
of the alumni, some of which are very creditable, some foolish.
These, with a number of photographs of the more striking
tableaux of the play and portraits of professors and performers,
make up a very handsome souvenir volume. Its style and
typography are creditable to the printers, Harrigan & King,
Worcester, Mass.

The title Meditations in Motley* would suggest some spark-
ling setting for pungent truths, but the reader who wades
through Walter Blackburne Harte's small volume bearing the
name will look in vain for the sparkle in some of the chapters.

* Meditations in Motley. By Walter Blackburne Harte. Boston f The Arena Publish-
ing Co.

1 895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 703

It is dull reading very often, of a kind that has been wofully
thrashed out, and its generalizations are by no means applicable
to any large number of cases, which is the only excuse for
generalizations ; while its fidelity to Lindky Murray is not at
times without suspicion.

No doubt many heads of teaching institutions have often
felt the necessity for some definite authority on the important
subject of religious vocations, more accessible than the ponder-
ous works of the Fathers of the church. This need has now
been supplied, we are pleased to see, by a priest of the Con-
gregation of the Mission. The work takes the form of a cate-
chism,* and is intended chiefly for the use of parochial schools.
A glance through the book convinces us that it is well adapted
for its purpose. It is not a mere dogmatic statement of a
number of propositions, but categorical examinations of such pro-
positions as are deemed necessary for the argument oh voca-
tions, and a testing of their logical soundness by the light of
Christ's teaching and the interpretation of fathers and councils
of the church. Besides these there are many striking illustra-
tions and many practical directions on the methods of ascertain-
ing vocations to the religious life which, without some such
help, must, in the vast majority of cases, be entirely overlooked.
The little work is one, in fine, that deserves a place in every
parochial school, as well as in all other training institutions.

A new work on the Stations of the Cross,f by Father P. E.
Fitzsimons, has just been published. It will commend itself to
many by reason of its beautifully appropriate prayers and re-
flections, its large clear type, and the fine engravings which
give expression to each of its most tragic stages. These en-
gravings are all taken from the works of the greatest masters,
old and new.

Some valuable suggestions on a course of study suited to
Catholic schools \ are contained in a little book just issued
anonymously. The author, it is, however, stated is a school
teacher of experience, and the spirit of piety and conscientious-

* Questions on Vocations. By a Priest of the Congregation of the Mission (founded by
,St. Vincent de Paul). With an appendix on How Parishes may Establish Scholarships.
New York : P. J. Kenedy.

t From the Pretorium to Golgotha. By Rev. Patrick E. Fitzsimons. New York : S. J.
Kerr.

% A Course of Study for Roman Catholic Parochial Schools. Compiled and arranged
by an experienced School Teacher. New York : The Rosary Publication Company.

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

ness is visible in the treatment of the subject. The object
sought to be attained by the publication of the work is the
unification, as far as possible, of the educational methods in
the various parochial schools.

PRACTICAL LESSONS IN ALGEBRA.*

This is, as the name would indicate, really quite a practical
and serviceable book, and is the outcome of considerable expe-
rience. The authors are teachers in the High School of Albany,
the first as professor, the second as instructor. Everything is
clearly put, and the directions as to explanation preceding the
chapters are well prepared and concise. If any student could
fail to master the subject as far af it is carried in this work,
which is of course elementary, it would simply be for want of
application.

One fault may be found, but it is one almost universal in
works of this description. It is that no beginner can possibly
understand, from the way in which algebra is presented in the
books, what possible use there is for the science. It seems to
consist in solving various out-of-the-way problems which no one
ever wants or needs to solve. It is a pity that more effort is
not made to show that the proper and actual use of algebra is
the stating in general formulas of the quantitative relations be-
tween quantities which depend on each other, and hence that
it is the basis of all investigation of the physical laws of nature.
The common notion that it is intended simply to find the value
of one or more " unknown " quantities in some particular pro-
blem not tractable in ordinary arithmetic ought to be suppressed
as near the start as possible.

NEW BOOKS.

COPELAND & DAY, Boston :

Meadow Grass. By Alice Brown.
JOHN MURPHY & Co., Baltimore.

Agnosticism and Religion. Dissertation for the Doctorate in Theology at
the Catholic University of America. By Rev. George J. Lucas.

T *. P r actical Le? sons in Algebra. By Josiah H. Gilbert, Ph.D., and Ellen Sullivan. Albany :
Weed-Parsons Printing Co.

THE death of Professor Huxley, which took
place at the end of last month, synchronizes with
the final sputter of the flame which he lit under
the name of agnosticism. Following closely upon the passing
away of Tyndall and Romanes, it suggests reflection upon the
remarkably flimsy and evanescent character of the movement
for it cannot be called a philosophical system which these
scientists sought to found upon the basis of material science
and the discoveries of Darwin. It was the most short-lived of
all modern cults, because it was simply a destructive system, and,
unlike the speculations of Kant or the positivists, offered noth-
ing formative in return. It died from its very dreariness ; but
before the death of its chief authors one of their most distin-
guished disciples, Romanes, seceded from its banner and con-
fessed its hopelessness and vacuity. Only one distinguished par-
tisan of the agnostic creed remains to carry on the fight, and
he is sorely pressed Mr. Herbert Spencer. So much for our
boasting about the superiority of modern methods. Philosophi-
cal systems, in the old world, rose and fell, but their stay was
long and their retirement stubborn. In our time no cautious
insurance company would issue a heavy policy on the healthiest
of them.

President Faure, the new figure-head in France, has just
done a very graceful act. Recently, in a visit to the south, he
inspected the civil hospital at Pe"rigord, and found the Sisters of
St. Vincent de Paul attending some soldiers who had contracted
fever in the African campaign. He took his own cross of the
Legion of Honor and fastened it to the habit of an aged nun,
Sister Josephine, who had worn the serge for sixty-two years,
after having warmly congratulated the sisters on their devotion
to the sick and the wounded on the field. Then he insisted on
bringing her out to the front of the hospital to let the public
see her decorated. The President is seemingly not afraid of the
VOL. LXI. 45

706 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Aug.,

opinion of the Paris mob. There, in their insane hatred of any-
thing connected with religion, they have driven the sisters out
of the hospitals, to the great loss and sorrow of the poor.

We have become rather accustomed to the condition of acute-
ness in the controversy over the Catholic school question in
Manitoba. Recently this crisis again developed an alarming
stage, and there was much wild talk about appeals to force and
secession of the province and so forth. A ministerial crisis in
Ottawa was one of the symptoms, but after a little this was
composed too, and the government have got breathing-time
again wherein to strive for an arrangement. The facts of the
case serve to illustrate one oft-repeated fallacy, to the effect
that loyalty to the British crown is the great distinguishing trait
of the Orange order. Here in Manitoba the whole trouble arises
from want of loyalty to an honorable engagement on the part
of the Orange majority in Manitoba, and want of loyalty to the
crown, as represented by the English Privy Council, in disobey-
ing the order to restore to the Catholics of the province the
schools which were theirs, and guaranteed them by the Domin-
ion when the province joined the Canadian Confederation. To
take advantage of the accidental growth of their party in the
province into a majority, in order to break a solemn engage-
ment, is a striking object-lesson in Orange notions of honor ;
while to disobey the mandate of the Privy Council that justice
must be done is an equally conspicuous illustration of the
Orange idea of " loyalty."

1 895.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 707

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

IS AGNOSTICISM ON THE DECLINE?

(Professor John Watson in the Philosophical Review (Boston) for July.)

" THERE are, I think, clear indications that the reign of Agnosticism is almost
over. That phase of thought, which is based upon the fundamental contradiction
that we know the Absolute to be unknowable, has drawn its main support from a
rejection of the preconceptions of traditional theology and an affirmation of the
validity of the scientific view of the world as under the dominion of inviolable
law. Agnosticism, however, has itself been the victim of a preconception, the
preconception that the scientific view of the world is ultimate, or at least that it is
the ultimate view of which man, or man at the present stage of his knowledge,
alone is capable. It is therefore a hopeful sign that there has recently been so
much speculation upon the nature of that Absolute which agnosticism declares to
be unknowable."

President Schurman, of Cornell University, says : " Agnosticism is only a tran-
sition and temporary phase of thought. The human mind can no more surrender
its belief in God, than its belief in a world or in a self. Contemporary agnosticism f
strange as it may sound, is in part due to the great advance which knowledge has
made during the last half century : it is blindness from excess of light. . .
But the agnostic fever seems already to be burning out. And as reason cannot
escape from its three fundamental ideas nature, self, God and the development
of reason consists in enriching the content of each and adjusting them harmo-
niously to one another, it cannot be doubled and the history of human thought
confirms the expectation that reason's next step will be to modify or reinterpret
the idea of God so as to inform and harmonize it with the revelation which science
has deciphered in the operations of nature and the life of humanity. Nay, has
not reason already to some extent accomplished her task ? The conception of
God as spiritual and not mechanical ; as immanent not external ; as working by
law not by caprice, and with steady infinite patience not by catastrophic outbursts ;
as adumbrated in nature and revealed in the moral and spiritual qualities of man,
who is the goal of evolution and the epitome and abridgment of existence : is not
this conception, in combination with the idea of the divine Fatherhood (which is
the essence of Christianity), taking possession of the best spirits of the modern
world and dislodging the Agnosticism by which it was preceded and by which,
in a sense, it was originated ? Even the greatest of living agnostics Mr. Her-
bert Spencer while still strenuously denying that we know anything about God,
yet advances so far as to posit the existence of God as indispensable first principle
both of knowing and of being. . . ."

SOCIETY'S PROTECTION AGAINST THE DEGENER-
ATES.

(Dr. Max Nordau in the Forum.)

HE who surveys the harm accomplished by morbid art and literature will
surely encourage any counteracting influence on these productions. The question
is only this : How shall it be accomplished ? Two observations will apply here.
Experience has heretofore pronounced cure of the degenerates, more particularly
in the worst forms, impossible. I doubt not that the present epidemic of degener-
acy and hysteria will end at a given time, humanity either forming some adapta-
tion to the new conditions of existence or subordinating these conditions to the

WHA T THE THINKERS SA Y. [Aug.,

power of its organic control. I have faith in the power of human-kind to self-
cure, since I am' convinced that its vitality is not yet exhausted. But it must not
be prematurely concluded, therefore, that nothing remains to be accomplished ; or
that the matter may be left to itself. The degenerates, as well as their imitators,
open admirers, and such as profess the ideas of this class, are, I fear, quite inac-
cessible to healing influences.

But to influence uncontaminated youth with any prospect of result heavy
treatises must not be employed. A book costs much money and more time. In
the best possible case it will be read only by the Mite, and its influence, I fear, will
not penetrate far. Here the newspapers and magazines have an extremely
important duty to fulfil. They have much to make good, for they have greatly
sinned. The newspapers, professing progression, have given immense notoriety
to morbid production. Public opinion has been given to understand that degen-
eracy in art and literature is synonymous with the greatest advance. Their duty
is to spread healthier views. They should cease occupying themselves more with
one fool than with ten sensible artists, and they should not stamp all madness
with the seal of success.

On the day when newspapers no longer consider it a duty to advertise the
cripples and clowns of art and literature, the influence of degenerate productions
will be greatly arrested. The masses will not then be penetrated by their peculiar
characteristics. Naturally I presuppose that the newspapers and magazines have
not fallen into the hands of degenerates and their following. Generally speaking
I believe the supposition to be correct. Newspapers do not believe in the Mys-
tics, Symbolists, and the like, to whom so much space is devoted. Rather they
give them so much space for the entertainment they afford. Let us hope for a
cessation when once the deeply disorganizing influence produced by this enter-
tainment on the public mind and taste has been comprehended. To leave degen-
erates and the hysterical to themselves, to tell the masses nothing of their insanity,
or else strip them of their prestige of progress, genius, and acute modernity,
appears to me the most promising method by which society is to defend itself
against degenerative suggestions.

A JESUIT CHIEF ON POLITICS IN THE PULPIT.

(From the Literary Digest?)

THE Anti-Semitic movement is nowhere stronger than in Austria-Hungary ;
the people there believe that their poverty is due to exploitation on the part of the
Jews, independently of business crises. In Vienna the late supplementary muni-
cipal elections resulted in a rise of the Anti-Semitic party from 46 to 62 members,
reducing the Liberal majority to 12. It is expected that the Anti-Semites will
have a majority at the next election. The success of the Anti-Semites is said to
be chiefly due to the attitude of teachers and the official class, who claim that they
suffer especially from usury exacted by Jews. They are assisted by the clergy
throughout the country. The fact is, therefore, all the more remarkable that a
high church dignitary has objected to the methods employed by many of the
clergy. Father Francis Xavier Widmann, chief of the Austrian Jesuits, declares
in the Tageblatt, Vienna, that he has already removed a Jesuit father from his
post as preacher because the public should know that the Jesuit chiefs do not
approve of politics in church. Father Widmann says :

" I am thoroughly convinced that politics should have no place in the pulpit.
The rights of the church are certainly sacred to us, and we mean to defend them
at all times, but I will always veto attempts to preach politics from the pulpit,
because the priest should stand above all party movements. I also do not like to
see Christians judge others on account of their race ; to oppose any one because
he is an Israelite or a heathen is altogether unchristian. A true Christian will
respect the religious convictions of others ; the question is only : Who has the true
faith ? Man is liable to commit errors. We see, for instance, philosophers oscil-
late between Pantheism, Atheism, Materialism. What we want is the golden
middle truth and God. It is the duty of the priest and the Christian to assist
earnest searchers after truth in their endeavors, but it is entirely against Christian
principles to hurt the feelings of those who believe differently from us. Israelites
and Christians believe in God, and can very well live side by side in peace."

1895-] THE GROWTH OF CATHOLIC READING CIRCLES. 709
THE GROWTH OF CATHOLIC READING CIRCLES.*

BY REV. THOMAS McMILLAN.

IT is now somewhat over thirty years since Father Hecker, assisted by intelli-
gent workers among the laity, established a Free Circulating Library for the
scholars of St. Paul's Sunday-school in New York City. No expense was spared
to get the best books. The object kept in view was to provide for the intellectual
needs not only of the little children attending school, but also to encourage the
love for good reading among the young folks. Library cards, finished on one
side with white silicate, were arranged containing fifteen books, of which ten were
selected from writers of fiction and five from biography, history, or entertaining
books of adventure and travel. At least one book devoted to the life of a saint, or
some explanation of religious truth, was assigned to each set. These cards, with
the titles of fifteen books and the names of their authors, were distributed on
Sunday during the recitation of the Catechism lesson. Under the guidance of the
teachers, scholars made a choice of the books. By the aid of a number for each
book the librarians easily kept the account of the circulation. For the return of
books every two weeks the class was held accountable as well as the individual.
This rule directed attention in a public manner to the delinquents, who were
promptly admonished by their own classmates.

Not to mention other obvious advantages, it may be claimed that this methcd
of supplying books gave the teachers an excellent opportunity to elicit conversa-
tion about favorite authors, and to make the library a potent influence in the
mental growth and character-building of their scholars. Each class became in
reality a miniature Reading Circle, with the teachers in charge, assisted by the
librarians, and under the personal supervision of the Rev. Director. From the
graduates of St. Paul's Sunday-school trained in this way during their early days
came the first members of a Catholic Reading Circle for women, in the year 1886.
It was named in honor of Frederic Ozanam, the gifted friend of Lacordaire, the
leader of young men in work for the poor, who won conquests for the faith in the
field of literature within the nineteenth century. The object proposed for the
Ozanam Reading Circle was the improvement of its members in literary taste by
meeting together once a week in an informal and friendly way to talk about books
giving prominence always to Catholic authors to take part in reading aloud some
of the best specimens of magazine literature, and to aid one another by the discussion
of current topics. At that time, less than ten years ago, no society could be found in
existence intended to provide for Catholic young women equal intellectual advan-
tages, such as were secured for young men by parish lyceums and literary unions.
When the Convention of the Apostolate of the Press, held January, 1892, in New

* Under the auspices of the Columbian Catholic Summer-School, at Madison, Wis., a
conference of Reading Circles was held July 19. An urgent invitation, dated June 24, was
sent to the Rev. Thomas McMillan, requesting him to prepare a paper to be read, if he could
not be present. The invitation, written by the Secretary, Edward McLoughlin, M.D., stated
these topics for consideration the origin, growth, and achievements of Catholic Reading
Circles, and concluded with these words :

" We are in need of light on this very important question, and from your position in
regard to Reading Circles we are assured we approach the right person in asking you for
information. We also feel confident that you will gladly come to our much-needed assistance
by favorably responding to the invitation."

;io THE GROWTH OF CATHOLIC READING CIRCLES. [Aug.,

York City, under the auspices of the Paulist Fathers, brought together the pioneer
workers for the Reading-Circle movement, it was admitted that the Ozanam Read-
ing Circle ranked first in date of formation.

Rumors have been heard that some objection was made to the Reading-Circle
movement because of its recent origin. As in the case of the young man who
promised to try to get older every day, this objection will shortly be removed by
time. The underlying principle of co-operation in all departments of human activ-
ity may be traced a long way back in history. No one can doubt that a union of
intellectual forces extending from the Atlantic to the Pacific, or vice versa, could de-
velop a bulwark of strength for Catholic literature in the United States. Any one
desiring the sanction of hoary antiquity for the modern Reading Circle can find it
at the University of Paris in the days of St. Thomas Aquinas, when students made
notes of his profound lectures and afterwards read them aloud to their friends at
the family gathering.

A description of a meeting may give some idea of the work done in the
Ozanam Reading Circle. The exercises begin with the reading of the minutes of
the previous meeting. These minutes are not presented in tabular form, but are
rather a description of the part each member had in the proceedings. This is
followed by quotations containing good, wholesome thoughts that impress the
members in the course of their readings ; an entire evening has often been devoted
to one Catholic author. The readings are selected from the literary stand-
point ; standard periodicals are frequently consulted. For instance, every month
at least one selection from THE CATHOLIC WORLD is rendered. The members
subscribe to this magazine and circulate it weekly, so that each member in turn is
supplied with a copy. Original writings have taken the form of letters to the
Circle, essays, and reviews of popular books, or impressions of particular works.
Sometimes the whole time of the meeting has been devoted to one special subject
or one celebrated character. All efforts have tended in some way to acquaint the
members with Catholic history and Catholic literature. No attempt is made to
educate professional readers, but to cultivate expression chiefly as a means of bring-
ing out the spirit and thought of the author.

In the department " With Readers and Correspondents " of THE CATHOLIC
WORLD Magazine for December, 1888, appeared an unsigned communication
stating briefly the outlines of a society for young women having a mature desire
for an advanced course of Catholic reading after graduation. It was suggested
that the social element might be eliminated, as the work proposed could be
accomplished by interchange of ideas at meetings and by correspondence among
kindred minds in different places. This communication was written in Milwau-
kee, Wis., by Miss Julie E. Perkins. Further particulars regarding her valuable
personal service in awakening latent forces for the practical realization of her plan
may be found in the " Tribute of Praise " published in THE CATHOLIC WORLD
August, 1894, shortly after her lamented death. She had very strong convictions
that the Catholic people of high position in social life were in many cases allowing
the intellectual opportunities of the present age to be monopolized by shallow,
self-constituted leaders. Her efforts to make known the enduring claims of
Catholic authors deserve perpetual remembrance.

The request for a discussion of the plans submitted by Miss Perkins was
answered by numerous letters from readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, showing
that in the United States, in Canada, in Australia, and throughout the immense
area of the English-speaking world there was need of a wider diffusion of the
best Catholic literature. From reliable sources of information it was estimated

1895.] THE GROWTH OF CATHOLIC READING CIRCLES. 711

that thousands of dollars were annually spent by Catholics, especially in the rural
districts, for ponderous subscription books. Unscrupulous agents grossly mis-
represented the value of such publications, while enemies of the church were
enabled to point the finger of derision at the vulgar display of shocking bad taste
in printing, binding, and caricature photographs of distinguished ecclesiastics.
Proofs were abundant that avaricious publishers had engaged in the nefarious
work of deceiving simple people, seeking to establish the impression that the sale
of these books in some way procured revenue for the church. A vast field
of activity for intelligent Catholics having wealth, leisure, and zeal was thus
brought into public view. The intellectual defense of the truth under existing
conditions required an organized movement to secure the best books of Catholic
leaders in literature, and banish from Catholic homes the clumsy volume kept on a
marble-top table.

In order to establish a central bureau for the guidance of the Catholic reading
public, to foster the growth of Reading Circles, and to secure a permanent combi-
nation of forces for the diffusion of good literature, THE CATHOLIC WORLD
Magazine, June, 1889, announced the formation of the Columbian Reading Union,
which was located at the house of the Paulist Fathers, 415 West Fifty-ninth
Street, New York City. An appeal was made for the voluntary co-operation of
those having a knowledge of books, so that guide-lists might be prepared at small
cost for those seeking the information thus rendered available. Catholic writers
were especially invited to take part in the new movement ; assistance was also ex-
pected from librarians and others qualified to make selections from the best books
published. Many individuals, as well as those identified with Catholic Reading
Circles, gladly donated small amounts of money, besides giving their time and
energy to make known the ways and means of extending the influence of Catholic
literature, and to secure a place of deserved recognition for Catholic authors in
public libraries. Some of the far-reaching results of the movement were indicated
by a distinguished layman in these words :

" 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 pub-
lic. At present the Catholic writer is forced to become a colorless, lifeless litttra-
teur, or else to follow false gods, become un-Catholic, wallow in the muck of real-
istic popularity. The evil is greater than we think a positive evil, and one worth
expense and sacrifice 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 literature charac-
terized by a just sense of art and by a high claim, clean as well as modern, and
covering every branch of literary composition.

" 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 telephoning him what we are
ready for. The guide-list will serve as a publisher's thermometer as well as a

712 THE GROWTH OF CATHOLIC READING CIRCLES. [Aug.,

reader's barometer. The readers will know when to come in out of the rain, and
our publishers will be able to tell the exact^temperature on an abnormally cold day
and the point above zero at which we really begin 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.

" And our schools, convents, colleges will not the guide-lists serve them also ?
In the school the groundwork of a sound appreciation of the value of good read-
ing 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-teach-
er'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.

" Surely you may count on the success of your good undertaking. You deserve
encouragement from all classes of men and women. And you will have encour-
agement, if for no other reason, because you have chosen the right moment to
plant a grain of mustard-seed. 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 little of the writers of
their own religion, or the place of excellence these writers have attained. Instead
of gratifying or nourishing ourselves at our own well-filled tables, we contentedly
feed on the husks of the prodigal and call our sad meal a feast."

No one watched the beginnings of the Reading-Circle movement among
Catholics with greater interest than the highly gifted Brother Azarias. From his
own experience he knew the discouraging indifference shown by wealthy Catho-
lics towards writers who gained little or no recompense in acknowledgment of
their splendid services to literature. He fully realized the dangers of allowing
young people to grow up amid luxurious surroundings having no knowledge of the
great Christian masterpieces written in defence of the church to which they belong
rather by inheritance than by conviction. Fortunately Brother Azarias was in-
duced to prepare a volume on " Books and Reading," which should be known in
every Catholic Reading Circle. It was published by the Cathedral Library, 123
East Fiftieth Street, New York City, and has reached a fourth edition. Such a
book by an author universally praised by the foremost critics of Europe and
America should have had a circulation of at least one hundred thousand. This
significant fact is an indication that only a small portion of the Catholic reading
public has felt the impulse of the new movement for the diffusion of the best Cath-
olic literature.

Compared with the condition of things that formerly existed, the progress of
the past ten years is exceedingly gratifying, though much remains yet to be
accomplished. The continued existence of the Catholic Reading Circle Review,
published at Youngstown, Ohio, is undoubtedly the best evidence that has been
given of the energy developed within the Reading-Circle movement. With a
noble ambition rarely found among young men, Mr. Warren E. Mosher made
heroic sacrifices in starting and sustaining it to the present time. Every one
who knows the difficulties he has had to encounter must wish him success beyond
his most sanguine expectations.

1895.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 713

In many places that cannot be mentioned by name without making this
paper too lengthy, Catholic Reading Circles have been most fortunate in getting
conspicuous leaders, and in having a number of distinguished authors and speakers
at their meetings. To estimate rightly the extent of the influence which has
been set in motion, it would be necessary to include a large number of vigorous
thinkers and ardent students who live at a distance from the large cities, and are
unable to form a Reading Circle. A very large share of the success which has
attended the Summer-School at Lake Champlain may be claimed for the members
of Catholic Reading Circles. From the circles of the West, it may be confidently
predicted, the Columbian Catholic Summer-School at Madison will derive enthu-
siastic workers, eager for self-improvement and the intellectual advancement of
their fellow-Catholics.

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ON December 5, 1891, fourteen former pupils of Mount St. Vincent met
to form the Reading Circle " Pupils of the Holy See," the object of which was to
be a study of the history of the Church, and of Catholic literature in general. At
the meetings church history questions are asked and answered, and the new
section announced. Besides church history questions, there are distributed gen-
eral and period questions the latter embracing the period under consideration.
The members answer these at the next meeting. Then the rtsumd of the book of
the month, a sketch of its author's life, or both, are read ; and some musical
selection follows. A novelty is the writing and reading by each member, in turn,
of the current events of the previous month, gleaned from a judicious perusal of
the daily papers. From this arise discussions on various subjects which occasion-
ally arouse the members to a high degree of enthusiasm.

The first approbation came from his Grace the most Reverend Archbishop
Corrigan, who granted the members " forty days indulgence for every half-hour of
good reading." Encouragement came from other sources also, not insignificant.
During the first year the members met at the house of the President, Mrs.
Henry E. Haggerty, but since then, through the courtesy of Very Rev. J. F.
Mooney, V.G., they have commodious quarters in the home of the Women's
Catholic Union, which is under his direction. The fourteen members soon
increased, and a branch was formed in Newburgh, N. Y. Other branches fol-
lowed, and associate Circles, under the same title, Pupils of the Holy See, now
may be found in Savannah, Ga. ; Lancaster, Pa. ; Middletown and Poughkeep-
sie, N. Y. The present number of members is more than one hundred and fifty.

As the numbers increased so also did the desire for active literary work.
During the second season discourses were given by Vicar-General Mooney, Revs.
Thomas McMillan, John Talbot Smith, LL.D., and Joseph H. McMahon. The
president, then in office, is a writer of no small note Miss Agnes Sadlier ; and
the vice-president, a contributor to THE CATHOLIC WORLD and Reading Circle
Review Miss Marion J. Brunowe. Under this guidance the Circle took up the
works of such English women writers as Jane Austen and Lady Fullerton. Ill-
health caused the resignation of these two literary lights, much to the regret of all
the members.

Next came a period in which were studied some Catholic authors of Fra'nce :

7 1 4 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Aug.,

Lacordaire, Montalembert, Lamartine, and Ozanam. This was during the term
in which were elected Miss J. I. O'Hara, President, and Miss Caroline Jones (now
the Vicomtesse Benoist d'Azy), Vice-President.

During the past winter the members have been intent upon the Oxford
Movement. At this point, during the month of March, the Pupils of the Holy
See invited their friends to a lecture on Cardinal Newman, a rare literary treat,
delivered by Henry Austin Adams, M.A., a recent convert to the Catholic faith.
It was the crowning point of success for the members of the Circle and their
friends. There were present about twenty priests, among whom were the Very
Rev. J. F. Mooney (who introduced Mr. Adams) ; Rev. Sylvester Malone, of
Brooklyn; Rev. J. Talbot Smith; Revs. J. F. X. O'Conor and Fink, SJ. ; Revs.
Thomas Taaffe, J. L. Belford, H. Farrell, of Brooklyn, and J. J. McNamee, of
Mount St. Vincent. Besides these the guests numbered one hundred and fifty.

As the history of all circles, so also the history of this it has had many
obstacles to overcome and some discouragement. But, like the great man who
was chosen for the subject of the recent lecture, it has risen above all these.
During the coming fall and winter Mr. Adams will deliver to the Circle his course
of literary lectures, and the members have the prospect of his guidance, as he has
graciously consented to become the Director of the Pupils of the Holy See.

The officers at present are : Juanita I. O'Hara, President; Mary T. Hughes,
Vice-President; Cecil Cremin, Secretary ; and Genevieve M. Schmitz, Treasurer.
The latest approbation is a source of pride to all the members, coming as it did
from the great Leo XIII., whose disciples they truly are. His Holiness sent, on
the twenty-sixth of December last, his " Fatherly blessing " to every Pupil of the

Holy See.

* * *

At the Champlain Summer-School Conde B. Fallen, Ph.D., of St. Louis, gave
a course of five lectures on the Philosophy of Literature, which contained many
points of interest to our readers.

The subject of his first lecture was Catholic Literature. . In discussing a subject
so vast the lecturer said he should be permitted to indicate rather than develop its
possibilities. In speaking of Catholic literature he wished to be understood in a
two-fold sense. In the higher sense he meant Catholic literature pure and simple,
as it has been the pleasure and the fruit springing directly and immediately from
soil ploughed, planted, and nurtured by the divine life of the Church herself. In
the lower and secondary sense he meant the literature of all mankind, in so far as
it is the expression of truth.

" Literature is the written expression of man's various relations to the universe
and its Creator. In all great questions, be they political, social, religious, or scien-
tific, a great question of theology is involved. ' Theology,' says Donoso Cortes,
' inasmuch as it is the science of God, is the ocean which contains and embraces
all sciences, as God is the ocean which contains and embraces all things.' In this
do we discover the reason of the Catholicity of truth and the reason why the utter-
ance of all things is Catholic."

Dr. Pallen indicated the essential truths thus contained, although overlaid with
many errors iji the sacred books of the pagans. Thus, throughout the whole
pagan world, we find the recognition of something beyond humanity. It is the
broken and distorted image of God mirrored in the life of pagan man.

But among the Hebrews, the chosen people, the Old Testament strikes the
gamut of literary art ; it is epic, its lyric qualities are unsurpassed, its didactic poe-
try is unequalled.

1 89 5.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 715

In his second lecture Dr. Fallen dealt with the science of literature. When
we understand the theology of a people, he said that is, their conception of their
relation to the Divine Being we are on the way to a proper appreciation of their
literary art, and not until we have arrived at an appreciative understanding of the
vital relation between religion and art has the philosophy of literature any meaning
for us. Where there is no science, using the word science in its full and legiti-
mate sense, there will be no art, no literature.

The amplification of the meaning of art was the subject of the third of his
scholarly lectures. Art, he said, is the sensible expression of the beautiful, and
Beauty, according to Plato, is the splendor of Truth. He gave an excellent defini-
tion of the true critic, who should be, he said "the Conscience of Art." It is a
popular error to suppose that the critic's office is that of fault-finding and destruc-
tion. He must build up and preserve, not tear down and destroy. When this
function becomes negative or destructive, it is only in defence of truth and beauty,
only to beat back those that would violate truth and beauty. The widespread
waste in the art world of to-day comes largely from the critic's betrayal of his
trust. Realism has invaded the kingdom of beauty and usurped the throne.
Realism would describe man and nature as Godless. It fixes its eyes on failure
and death and calls them reality. But neither nature nor man has been abandoned
by God, and the reality is nature and man, filled with the Divine presence. Art
pictures the real man, the ideal and the perfect man as he comes from his Maker's
hands, and not the fallen, the degenerate, and the ugly man, such as realism would
substitute in his place. The true realism is found in Jesus Christ, most perfect in
his own incomparable perfection, and as the model for all men, the most ideal
the real in the ideal, and the ideal in the real.

Synthesis was the subject of the fourth lecture. The topic was lucidly treated
under these subdivisions : the East ; Greece ; Rome ; speculation, science, and
the formula in relation to art ; truth and the law ; the supreme order ; solution.

Style was the subject of the concluding one. The whole course was most in-
structive, and especially helpful to teachers and beginning literary workers and

journalists who had the good fortune to hear it.

* * *

The Ozanam Reading Circle held a public meeting on June 25 at Columbus
Hall, New York City. Original papers were read by Miss Helen M. Sweeney and
Miss Mary F. McAleer. Contralto solos were given by Miss Wilmur Fenton and
Miss Katharine Hughes. The reading from " King Lear " was under the direc-
tion of Henry M. Winter. Rev. A. P. Doyle, C.S.P., in graphic language
described his visit to Pope Leo XIII. The president, Miss Katharine G. Clifton,
read the report here given :

In presenting the annual report of this our ninth year of existence as a Read-
ing Circle we are conscious of two notable facts : we have doubled our member-
ship and increased in the same proportion our average attendance. We have
thus extended [our sphere of usefulness and enlarged our circle of friends and
well-wishers. As for the actual work done at our weekly meetings, the following
items will testify : Quotations always open the meeting, being taken from various
authors met with in our daily readings, except when an entire evening is devoted
to one author, as sometimes is the case. We have had a Holmes, a Bryant, an
Emerson, a John Boyle O'Reilly, a Brownson, an Ozanam, a Shakspere, and a
Tennyson evening. For the Tennyson evening one of the members prepared the
programme at the request of the editor of the Catholic Reading Circle Review ;
it was published in that magazine later.

716 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Aug., 1895.

Two evenings were delightfully and profitably spent with Rev. Clarence E.
Woodman, C.S.P., who gave us a talk on Longfellow as a Domestic Poet, and
another on Americanisms, Good and Bad. Rev. A. M. Clark, C.S.P., read a
paper on Mabel Rich, the Mother of St. Edmund.

One meeting was devoted to magazines, when we had selections from THE
CATHOLIC WORLD, the Century, Scribner's, the Review of Reviews, Cosmopoli-
tan, and the Reading Circle Review.

Notwithstanding the large amount of our desultory reading we paid close
attention to two eminent works, Allies' Formation of Christendom, read and dis-
cussed with us by our Rev. Director, Father McMillan ; and Spalding's History
of the Church of God, from which was given a ten-minute reading every
meeting.

The following books were selected by the advisory committee and recom-
mended for private reading : O'Meara's Life of Frederick Ozanam, Life and
Works of Sir Thomas More, Cardinal Manning's Pastime Papers, Rose Latimer's
France and the Nineteenth Century, Fenelon's Letters, Irving 's Life of Gold-
smith, the earlier novels of Crawford, The Data of Modern Ethics, by Ming, and
History of Our Times, by Justin McCarthy.

Mention may be made of one excellent book used by the Circle almost weekly :
American Literature, by Julian Hawthorne and Mark Lemmon. This being the
first volume we have met devoted entirely to American literature, we gladly
availed ourselves of its careful compilation and critical judgment.

On March 18 was held an animated debate on the question Should a novel be
written with a purpose ? It shared the usual fate of debates and remained unde-
cided ; each member being a woman, " was of the same opinion still."

On April 29, contrary to accepted belief in woman's lack of humor, the Circle
held a humorous meeting, devoting attention to other people's humor. Judging
from the gales of merriment the evening was a success.

On Washington's Birthday the Ozanam Reading Circle was " At Home " to
its numerous friends in its rooms in Columbus Hall.

In closing this brief report of our year's work, allow us one word in commen-
dation of our plan of work. As may be perceived, we have no fixed plan, no cast-
iron rules, no compulsory reading, no fines for non-performance of duty. We in-
dulge in what has been largely condemned as desultory reading. Thanks to the
forethought of our Rev. Director, whose plan we strive to follow, we have found it
after all the best kind of reading. The Circle is not composed of young ladies who
have a superfluous amount of time on their hands, but of women into whose busy
lives the current of good literature would rarely flow were it not for our weekly
meetings. A glance over the record of our readings reveals the best names to be
found in the whole galaxy of those whose pens have helped to make the world a
better place.

The habit of giving fragmentary thought in the form of quotations has not
been highly recommended by more ambitious Circles, but these bright bits form a
mosaic upon which we can look back with loving pride and profit to ourselves.
Each member thus bringing a thought or two from some well of truth, is giving us
a literary taste which is at once one of the most efficient instruments of self-edu-
cation and the purest source of enjoyment the world affords; it is the " open se-
same " to that enchanted land that lies in books. M. C. M.

ST. AMBROSE DISCUSSING THEOLOGY WITH ST. AUGUSTINE.

{The original painting is in Munich, and is by Bernard van Or lay. For a long time it
was put down in the catalogue as St. Norbert refuting a heretic, until a New York gentleman
demonstrated to the Munich authorities from the "Tollelege" on the scroll that it was St.
Ambrose and St. Augustine.)

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXI. SEPTEMBER, 1895. No. 366.

SISTER KATHARINE.

BY MARY BOYLE O'REILLY.

LL about the high walls of Oakhurst throbbed the
busy life of the city ; an unending procession of
carts and heavily laden drays filling the air with
their rumble, while on every side hurried pedes-
trians too engrossed to notice the rustling trees
and the twittering birds on the other side of the wall. With
stealthy rapidity the city had grown up to the very gate which,
once separated the secluded estate from the stretch of lonely
country all about ; but now the forbidding walls guarded the
peaceful convent life from the rude bustle of the outer world.

All day the portress, Sister Katharine, sat in a low chair by
the great door, her eyes and hands busy with a web of frost-
like lace, setting stitch on stitch with patient care, year after
year. She only knew one pattern for her lace-work, but each
stitch of that had an individuality all its own through countless
repetition ; and when the finished piece went to adorn altar
cloth or surplice in the convent chapel, the little sister would
close her eyes lest pride fill her heart at sight of her handi-
work;

Long years had passed since Sister Katharine first, came, a
gentle, sad-eyed girl, begging admittance to the sisterhood an
orphan whose only brother had just left her while he went west-
ward to dig his fortune from the mountain's side ; and as the
years glided by the soft melancholy of the lonely girl slipped
from her, giving place to the quaint merriment of an entirely
peaceful nature.

SISTER KATHARINE. [Sept.,

To her life meant the cheerful performance of a multitude
of little tasks, for all of which there was an appointed hour,
and each night she sought her tiny cell murmuring gratefully,
" What a happy life I have ! " And yet she was only the port-
ress, whose place it was to stand meekly by that the choir nuns
might proceed. Why should it mar her sweet tranquillity that
Mother Margaret was a famous scholar, and Mother Agnes a
wonderful musician whom visitors came many miles to hear,
when her delightful duty it was to keep the long hall swept
and dusted, to ring the Angelus at morning, noon, and eve,
and hasten to open the hall door at the first sound of the

bell?

Before her in the hallway hung a great painting of the girl-
hood of Mary, bequeathed to the convent a score of years ago,
which pictured the holy maid girlish and sweet, sitting musing
by her distaff, with spindle lying idly on her knee, while she
looked wistfully through an open doorway awaiting the coming
of the wondrous message which was to make her for all time
blessed among women, and Sister Katharine, from long musing
by the picture, had caught some of the peaceful beauty of the
Virgin's face.

" How kind every one is to me ! " thought Sister Katharine ;
" here I have been portress for almost twenty years, and being
portress is so interesting ! almost as good as being sacristan."
And truth to tell it was most interesting, often so nearly excit-
ing that mother superior, known to her sisters as Mother
Anna, gently warned the little nun against distraction.

To the portress came all the visitors, the dealers in sup-
plies, returning pupils, and the beggars whose name was legion,
and who knew well that even the most flagrant impostor would
not be turned away empty handed. "Where should they go,
poor dears, if we refuse them ? " Sister Katharine would mur-
mur with heartfelt pity. Once the little portress was ill, so ill
that she lay all day in her narrow cell watching the sunbeams
make strange patterns on the white wall, and hearing the soft
pattering of some other sister's home-stitched shoes hastening
to answer the bell.

It was well that Sister Katharine did not know it was
Mother Anna who undertook the duties of the absent one, and
as she struggled with the heavy door murmured pityingly : " To
think that Sister Katharine never has complained of this strain ;
it must have overtaxed her strength for many years " ; and that
night, while the little sister slept, a workman deftly inserted a

I895-] SISTER KATHARINE. 723

powerful spring which minimized the labor. No word was
said of the improvement, and Sister Katharine, returning to her
duties weak and languid, often wondered if some heavenly
agent helped her with the ponderous door.

Once there was held a fair in the convent, planned and car-
ried out by the ex-pupils, who still thought lovingly of their
Alma Mater, and Mother Anna, calling the sisterhood together,
smilingly gave to each a silver ten-cent piece with permission
to spend it as each possessor thought best. Not for thirty
years had Sister Katharine held so large a sum of money in
her hand, and now she stood quite still to read the inscription
and admire the stately figure of Liberty graven there. " It is
such a pretty piece of silver," she thought in mild surprise ;
" quite like a medal but for the design. Alas ! it is sadly
soiled and tarnished." And down she sat to rub it gently
with her handkerchief. Then round and round the rows of
tables, laden with beautiful and useless things, went Sister
Katharine, followed by the laughing pupils, who tried to snare
her into purchasing. What could she buy ? So few things
cost a ten-cent piece, and for these she had no use ; and so she
hesitated until the ringing of a bell announced the fair was
ended.

Back to Mother Anna, the polished coin still resting on her
palm, tripped Sister Katharine.

" Not spent ? " was the exclamation.

" No, mother," answered the little sister honestly, " nothing
seemed good 'enough to buy."

" That is not as I wished, sister," said the superior gravely.
" I asked you to spend your money at the fair ; instead, you
treasured it ; now you shall carry it in your pocket for six
months."

" Thank you, mother," murmured Sister Katharine, venturing
no defence; and every day, and many times a day, she looked
at the bit of silver, whispering, " Would that I had not been so
avaricious."

But one day, the six months almost passed, an aged woman
came to the convent begging for an alms, and Sister Katharine
hurried away to entreat that she might give her long-treasured
dime. A great weight seemed lifted from her heart when the
shining mite disappeared in the old crone's hand.

To the pupils Sister Katharine was " an angel," as they
often told her, when she smilingly brought news to the class-
room that some one waited for them in the parlor, and often-

724 SISTER KATHARINE. [Sept.,

times, forgetful of the rule enjoining silence in the long dormi-
tories, she would whisper, as she helped them make a hasty
toilet,' who the visitor might be. It did not seem to cloud her
happiness that no one ever rang the bell to ask for her, but
year after year she stood joyous by the open door that led to
home or freedom when the school year was ended, or full of
gentle sympathy when some lingering, home-sick girl came slowly
back. And sometimes she would sit in her low chair, uncon-
sciously in the attitude of the pictured Virgin, and wonder what
people did and said on the other side of the door. It was so
long since she had passed through the stately gate, and the
pupils talked so glibly of new and wonderful things, that she felt
the world was not the world she had known ; and musing she
would think lovingly of the brother who had left her long ago,
trusting that he too had been happy. So Sister Katharine's
life flowed on, a tranquil stream, sometimes in the shaded sun-
light, again in the sun-flecked shadow, blown on by gentle
winds, with never a boisterous blast to ruffle its calm surface ;
until on a sudden, out of the serene sky, came a fierce gale
that startled it to swifter motion.

It was the evening of a lowering autumn day, when Ves-
pers had been sung, and the household in slow procession
walked past the hall door on their way from chapel. First
came the pupils in their simple black gowns, with long white
veils, walking demurely two by two. Then the community,
moving noiselessly but for the musical clinking of the long
rosary suspended from each girdle ; and last, by right of her
position, the stately figure of the mother superior, her long
black robes and soft-flowing veil adding to the dignity of her
mien. Not until the notice of her death hung, years after, on
the chapel door, were the sisterhood aware that the daughter
of a ducal house had been their guide and friend.

A strong wind swept about the house rattling the case-
ments, or screaming in the chimneys, and Sister Katharine, as
she slipped the bolt in the great door, thought with loving
pity of the world's homeless ones on such a bitter night.

Still musing, she went slowly to her cell, but not to rest.
A strange anxiety filled her gentle mind with vague misgivings,
and every unfamiliar sound startled her into a strained listening.
Often she told herself that nothing could be amiss, for had she
not lived thirty happy years within these walls ?

" Ah me ! " thought Sister Katharine, " I am growing old
and anxious ; I will try to sleep " ; and even as she blew the

1 895.] SISTER KATHARINE. 725

candle out a pungent odor floated into the little room. One
moment she stood wondering, the next saw her running noise-
lessly down the long corridor, which was filled with a strange
haze. From room to room she ran with but one thought to
reach the great bell in the sacristy. In two long wings stretch-
ing on either side lay the sleeping household who must be
wakened. Thicker and more stifling grew the smoke, making
her gasp and stagger as she ran, and now the sharp crackling
of painted wood was followed by a shower of sparks that lit
upon the ample folds of her long dress. All unconsciously she
gathered up her robe and shook it before wrenching open the
sacristy door revealing a well of fire, through which she dashed
to where the long bell-rope hung against the wall.

One spring she made, being but small and slight, and a loud
clamor burst on the still night air. Again and again she pulled
the heavy rope, already alight with sparks, until she felt the
very dead in their graves on the hill-side must have heard the
brazen summons.

Then, muffling her head in the long veil, Sister Katharine
fled back as she had come. Already the convent was in com-
motion, lights flashed from room to room, sisters with white,
scared faces ran about with armfuls of books and precious
papers, while the superior and some few assistants marshaled
the pupils to a place of safety. All night the household clung
together terror-stricken in the rooms farthest from the flames,
listening to the dull pumping of the engines and the short,
sharp cries of excited men ; and when morning dawned one
wing of the great building was in ruins. But all were safe, all
save Sister Katharine, who lay with bandaged hands and close-
shut lips from which low moans would come despite her ef-
forts.

" We should be truly thankful," said Mother Anna to her
household ; " and yet it was a splendid wing, and I have not the
money to rebuild."

So excitement was followed by a calm, and after many days
Sister Katharine went about the house smiling as of old, although
she knew her hands would be maimed and helpless for all her
future life. If her lips trembled when she greeted' the new
portress, it was not because of envy in her heart. With loving
kindness she was given the old duties, simplified and lightened
to suit her infirmity, and while the door was opened by a stran-
ger, the one-time portress still sat in her low chair, under the
great picture, ready to act as guide to visitors down the long

726 SISTER KATHARINE. [Sept. ?

corridor. Here one day there came a stranger asking for Sister
Katharine, who smiled gently as she bade him welcome ; and
because he was unused to convent rule he asked with strangely
excited look :

" Will you tell me your surname, sister ? "

" Excuse me, sir," she answered, blushing slightly ; " I will
conduct you to mother superior."

"Pardon me," he exclaimed, bowing, and followed her
silently.

" Be seated, sir," said the stately superior when the stranger
named himself. " I have forgotten Sister Katharine's surname,
but if you wish I will send and ask her "; and at the summons
Sister Katharine came.

" My name was Dalian, mother," she said simply.

" Exactly ! " cried the stranger, springing to his feet. " Do
you not know me, Kate ? "

One glance she gave, a vague wondering on her pale face,
and then cried " William ! " while Mother Anna, smiling her bene-
diction, glided noiselessly from the room.

How much there was to talk of : all the happenings of thirty
years, and the little nun, eager as a child, merrily told the sim-
ple story of her daily life, with never a thought of how they
both had changed since they had parted. And William Dalian
smiled tenderly as he recognized the sister he had left so long
ago.

" We are still alone in the world, little woman," he said,
when a pause came. " I have no ties to bind me to the West,
and as each year passed I grew more anxious to return."

Just here there .sounded from the hallway the ringing of a
bell.

" My bell ! " cried Sister Katharine, rising hastily. " O
William ! I have been so happy I quite forgot my duties ; and
now ' but as she spoke Mother Anna entered.

"Sister Katharine," she said, casting an apologetic glance at
the visitor, " I have come to tell you that 'Sister Agnes takes
your duties for to-day, while you stay with Mr. Dalian and en-
joy every moment of his visit. Would you not like to walk
about the gardens ? "

" Oh, thank you, thank you, mother ! " cried the little sister,
delighted at the unexpected privilege, and presently a score
of girlish heads clustered in the class-room windows to watch
Sister Katharine trip gaily down the pathway beside an impos-
ing stranger.

1 895.] SISTER KATHARINE. 727

" Is there nothing I can do for you, Kate ? Nothing that
you wish for ? "

" Not a thing, William," she answered, smiling brightly.

" How did this happen ? " he questioned, stroking the scarred
hand that lay in his.

" O William ! we had a fire ; such an awful fire ! All the
class-rooms we needed so much, and mother is too poor to build
again," she said, leading the way to the ruins.

" What are you going to do ? " he asked, standing by a heap
of blackened masonry.

" Alas ! we can only pray," she answered sadly, her eyes
bright with tears.

" Kate," said William Dalian, " would "it give you pleasure
to rebuild the wing yourself ?"

" Pleasure ! " she gasped.

" Because, if it would," he continued, smiling down upon her,
" and twenty thousand dollars would suffice, I think you had
better begin at once. It will be far more interesting than being
portress."

''Twenty thousand dollars," murmured Sister Katharine
thoughtfully. " William, is not that a great sum of money ? "

" So people say," he answered laughing, " but men make
millions in Montana."

" I once had ten cents," she said softly, " and I did not
know how to spend it. O William, how good you are to
me ! I was so sad at being useless "; and she glanced at her
maimed hands.

And that night mother superior told the community of a
large gift of money made the convent that the burned wing
might be rebuilt, and the sisterhood wondered much who the
generous donor could be, but no one gave even a passing
thought to Sister Katharine.

7 ,g THE LA w OF MOSES [Sept.,

THE LAW OF MOSES AND THE HIGHER
CRITICISM.*

BY VERY REV. A. F. HEWIT, D.D.
DESCRIPTION OF THE BOOK.

HIS book is published in a truly beautiful style,
most attractive to the eye, and, therefore, easy
and agreeable in the reading. Its authors are,
some of them members of the Church of
England, and others Presbyterians, more or less
celebrated as scholars and writers.

It is better that it should be the work of eminent Protestant
rather than Catholic authors. For, as it is in the most essential
parts of the contention orthodox, its intrinsic value lies in its
contents, and as the attack on the Mosaic Law has been made
by Protestants, it is well that they also should repel it.
Besides, it will be better received, more widely circulated, and
exert more influence, on this account.

The scope and object of the work is the defence of the
traditional belief of Jews and Christians against the subtle and
resolute effort of the men who are called the " Higher Critics,"
to undermine and overthrow it.

The learning and ability of these Higher Critics is unques-
tioned. The ingenuity and subtlety which they have displayed
is almost unparalleled. Their dogmatic assurance and arrogance,
their pretension to be the very personification of intelligence
and science, their disregard of all ancient tradition and con-
tempt for all their opponents, can only be matched by the
similar qualities in the advocates of Agnosticism and Pseudo-
scientific Materialism. By their haughty airs they have imposed
on the true believers and produced a certain awe and fear in
their minds, which, we regret to say, have affected to some
degree even a certain number of Catholic scholars, who have
seemed to tremble before these new and audacious antagonists.
The general public has to a great extent bowed down before
them in blind reverence.

* Lex Mosaica ; or, The Law of Moses and the Higher Criticism. Lord Arthur Hervey,
Sayce, Rawlinson, Douglas, Girdlestone, Valpy French, Lias, Watson, Sharpe, Stewart,
Stanley Leathes, Sinker, Spencer, Watts, Wace. Edited by Valpy French. Queen's Printers,
1894.

l8 95-] AND THE HIGHER CRITICISM. 729

Learned and solid works by Catholic scholars in opposition
to this new fad have been published ; but these are partly in
Latin, and partly in German or French, so that they are useless
for all those who do not read these foreign languages. In this,
as in other branches, English works have been wanting. The
late Archbishop Smith of Glasgow did, indeed, when he was a
young priest publish the first volume of an excellent work on
the Pentateuch, which he was hindered by lack of encourage-
ment from finishing at the time, and later on by more pressing
labors in the sacred ministry. Dr. Pusey performed some
valuable work in his Commentary on Daniel, and so also did
Professor Green of Princeton, and there have been some similar
works issued. But, until now, nothing has appeared (in the
English language) which can be compared to this new and
admirable work, the " Lex Mosaica."

THE THEORY OF HIGHER CRITICISM.

These Higher Critics can be said to have a common theory,
only in a very general sense ; for when they come to particu-
lars and details, they differ from one another, and are perpetu-
ally changing. In a general way, then, they deny that the Old
Testament, as it now exists, is a collection of genuine, authentic
books, containing a law given by Moses, a veracious history
beginning from the creation and ending with the emancipation
of the Jewish nation from Syrian domination under the
Maccabees, and certain other written documents. That part of
the Old Testament which is included within the Jewish Canon,
according to their theory (with the exception of a small part
added a little later), was an ingenious composition of Esdras and
other scribes, communicated in the form which it, has at pres-
ent in the Hebrew text, to the Jewish people after the end of
their exile, and henceforth received as -an inspired volume,
whose authors were Moses, and a series of sacred historians and
prophets, writing under a divine influence. Into this composi-
tion were incorporated all the remains of ancient Hebrew
literature available for the purpose. The purpose was, to con-
solidate the remnant of the twelve tribes of Israel, the chief
portion of which belonged to the tribes of Judah, Levi, and
Benjamin, into an organized ecclesiastical and civil polity, under
the supremacy of a hierarchical order, with a fixed liturgy,
ritual, and moral code, as the peculiar church and people of
God, separated in religion from all nations, and the exclusive
possessors of a divine revelation and law, having the promise of

730 THE LA w OF MOSES [Sept.,

a Messiah to come, who should raise them to a state of unex-
ampled glory, and make Jerusalem the capital city of the world.
It was the purpose to inspire them with reverence for their law,
their temple, and their priesthood, to enkindle in them an enthu-
siastic patriotism, to establish their faith in Monotheism with a
corresponding abhorrence of Polytheism and Idolatry. As a
powerful means of promoting this purpose, the people were to
be persuaded that Moses was their Deliverer from Egyptian
bondage, their Leader through a long wandering in the desert,
their Lawgiver, the Founder of their church and nation, the
first of a series of inspired historians and prophets whose au-
thentic writings were contained in a sacred canon, sanctioned
by an authority whose edict was issued by divine inspiration.

According to these critics, Esdras was not the first who
practised this manipulation of such documents and traditions as
had come down from earlier times, and obtained credence
among the Jews. Priests, and popular preachers who enjoyed
the reputation of being prophets, and scribes who possessed
such historical records as existed, had prepared and put forth
editions of all the written documents in their hands, which they
had tampered with, altered, and arranged to suit their own
interests. The sagacity of the critics has enabled them to
separate these composite literary mosaics and detect the distinct
parts, assigning to each editor and original author what belongs
to him. There are E. J. E. junior, J. junior, JE. D. P. and
several R's. The chief object is to disprove the genuineness and
authenticity of the Pentateuch, which from the first, is relegated
to one of the last places in the collection of sacred writings.
The whole history of Moses and the Exodus is discredited as
unhistorical and mostly fabulous. The account of the taber-
nacle, the Aaronic priesthood, the successive promulgation of
laws in the desert is relegated to the region of the mythical.
The Israelites are a horde of barbarians whose occupation of
Palestine and early adventures, as they gradually consolidate
and develop into a kingdom, afterwards divided into two,
having a central city and a great temple at Jerusalem, is en-
veloped in a mist of obscurity, in which only the ingenuity of
the higher critics can distinguish history from fable. The
tradition which has been universally received in the past, both
by Jews and Christians, goes back only to Esdras and his
fellow-scribes, in the post-exilic period ; and it is wholly set aside.

This theory, in undermining the whole fabric of traditional
and scriptural Judaism, removes the entire foundation of

1895.] AND THE HIGHER CRITICISM. 731

Christianity. It is true that some who have given in to the
pretensions of the Higher Criticism have stopped short of its
most extreme and destructive conclusions. They strive to find
some mediating theory, in which a vague, attenuated doctrine
of inspiration, and the most essential doctrines of the Christian
Faith, can be harmonized with the new views about the Mosaic
Law. Some Catholic laymen, even, namely Lenormant and
Mivart, in good faith, having imprudently started on an aerial
journey which may be compared to a ride on Pegasus or Al
Borak, abandoning the safe ground of their own proper sciences,
have got lost in a cloud. But in reality, this theory of Higher
Criticism, in its consistent form, and as its thorough-going advo-
cates well understand, is diametrically contrary to the idea of
supernatural religion, with a divine revelation, prophecy, miracle,
and historical continuity from the beginning to the end of the
world. A determined hostility to this idea, a resolution to
make away with all supernatural religion founded on divine re-
velation, has been the original cause and motive of all the
subtle and ingenious efforts to tear the Bible in pieces, and to
account for Judaism and Christianity on purely rationalistic
principles. Men like Dr. Delitzsch, Mr. Gore, and Dr. Briggs
deserve credit for their sincere desire and effort to place Chris-
tianity on a defensible ground. They are first Christians, and
in the second place, critics. So also, all others who have made
too many concessions to the opponents of religion, with honest
intentions, must be excused, especially if they show a readiness
to accept the correction of their mistakes when made by a
competent authority. Yet, after all, the true issue is between
the divine mission of Moses and Christ, the divine inspiration
of the Old and New Testaments in all their books and all
their parts, on one side ; and the negation of supernatural
religion and revelation, on the other ; which implies that all the
belief of both Christians and Jews is based on imposture and
forgery, of the most stupendous dimensions, " to fill up the
farcical scenes " of the universal human comedy.

. WHAT IS TO BE THOUGHT OF THIS THEORY ?

No one who has been familiar from childhood with the
Bible, or who has become familiar with it at a more mature
period, can help believing in it, unless he has lost his faith in
God and Christ, and become the prey of scepticism. As well
accept the extravagant hypothesis of the eccentric P. Hardouin,
that the classics are forgeries of mediaeval monks, as believe that

THE LA w OF MOSES [Sept.,

the Pentateuch and other books of Scripture are the work of
the inventive genius of Esdras and the scribes. As- well believe
that " Paradise Lost," Gibbon's " Decline and Fall/' Bancroft's
History, the works of Longfellow, are not genuine.

Lord Arthur Hervey remarks in his Introduction (p. xxxiii.) :
" The narrative contained in them (the Books of the Penta-
teuch) is either absolutely true history, or a most skilful and
elaborate fiction. The close connection between the parts
precludes the possibility of those books containing a
bundle of traditions or legends mingled with fragments of truth
here and there." Moreover, the continuous weaving of a fabu-
lous time running on during eight or ten hundred years is alto-
gether too absurd. And as to a homogeneous fiction with unity
of composition, in plainer words, an impious forgery by an
impostor, supplanting all authentic history and tradition, being
palmed off, with the connivance of all the scribes, upon the
whole Jewish nation, those who had returned from exile, those
who remained in Assyria, and the rest who were scattered
through the world, as a veracious and inspired history, it is a
monument of human folly that such a theory can have been
received with anything but derision.

The intrinsic absurdity of the hypotheses of the " Higher
Criticism " shows plainly enough what we ought to think of it.
But besides this, whoever is unwise enough to credit these
hypotheses is embarking upon a frail craft which is rapidly
floating upon the rocks where it will soon go to pieces. The
ebb of the tide which washed it up has already set in. This is
affirmed by Professor Sayce in the First Essay of the volume
before us (p. i.) Besides this, the learned professor tells us,
what indeed is no news, that the historical scepticism which
assails the Pentateuch is not an isolated circumstance, whereas
that same destructive criticism has attacked all the ancient land-
marks of history, and has everywhere spent its force.

" The end of the nineteenth century is witnessing the ebb
of a wave of historical scepticism which began to flow more
than a century ago. It has spared nothing, sacred or other-
wise, and in its progress has transformed the history of the
past into a nebulous mist. But the ebb had already set in
before its tendencies and results had made themselves felt
beyond a limited circle of scholars. . . . Under the blows
of the critic, the fabric of early Greek and Roman history
crumbled into dust. All, or nearly all, was resolved into myth
and fable. History, it was laid down, began with contem-

1 89 5.] AND THE HIGHER CRITICISM. 733

poraneous documents, and contemporaneous documents were of
late date. The history of Greece before the age of Solon was
summed up in two or three grudgingly admitted facts, and
Roman history before the capture of the city by the Gauls
became practically a blank. . . . Literary culture, it was
held, began in Greece, and written Greek literature could not
claim an antiquity greater than the sixth century B. c. That a
Hebrew literature should exist outside the literature of Greece,
and of confessedly earlier date than the latter, was a trouble-
some phenomenon which could best be explained by bringing
down the age of the Biblical books as nearly as possible to
that of the first products of Greek thought.

" The scepticism of the * higher criticism ' rests in. large
measure upon the assumption, implicit or avowed, of the late
application of writing to literary purposes. It has been tacitly
assumed that the literary use of writing could not have been
known to an Israelite in the time of Moses, and consequently
that none of the narratives in the Pentateuch can go back to
so early a period. They must all belong, it is urged, to a later
age, when little authentic record was preserved of the Mosaic
days, and when the imagination of the author or his contem-
poraries had to supply the missing facts. The syllogism is a sim-
ple one : No Israelite wrote or read in the age of Moses, or for
several centuries afterwards ; consequently the documents which
profess to give a history of the time are late and untrustworthy.
. . . As soon as we can show that the supposition is false,
the ground is cut from under his (the critic's) feet. His edifice
of doubt and negation has been raised upon an assumption which
Oriental archaeology denies in the clearest tones. The age of
Moses was a literary age ; the lands which witnessed the Exodus
and the conquest of Canaan were literary lands ; and literature
had flourished in them for numberless generations before " (p. 17).

Father Ryan's article in the February number of THE
CATHOLIC WORLD has done justice to this theme, and there-
fore there is no need of enlarging upon it here.

All the evidence we can ever have of the genuineness and
authenticity of literary works is derived from tradition. The
Jewish tradition of the genuineness of the books of the Old
Testament and the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch sur-
passes in compass and solidity all similar ancient traditions. It
is irrefragable. And, in respect to the Mosaic Law, the work
before us proves this by a discussion of the history from
Moses to Esdras which is exhaustive and conclusive.

734 THE LA w OF MOSES [Sept.,

CERTAINTY AND IMPORTANCE OF THE MOSAIC AUTHORSHIP
OF THE PENTATEUCH.

Archaeology has completely demolished all plausible argu-
ments against the Mosaic auth'orship of the Pentateuch. More-
over, it has thrown a flood of light upon the history which it
contains. Denial of its genuineness and authenticity leads to
the absurdity that it is a post-exilic forgery, which involves the
other documents of the Old Testament prior to Esdras in. the
same category of the mythical and fraudulent.

The historical genuineness of the Pentateuch implies their
Mosaic authorship. In the case of some other books of the
Bible, the question of authorship ' does not affect their genuine-
ness and inspiration. The authors of some of them are wholly
unknown, of others, only assigned by scholars with probability.
But, in the case of other books, their trustworthiness depends
on their authorship, and this is true of the Pentateuch. This
does not imply, however, that Moses did not incorporate earlier
documents into the Book of Genesis, or that the original text
as it came from the hand of Moses did not undergo some
alterations in repeated transcriptions by scribes, or redactions by
competent hands. Moreover, it is necessary to remark here, that
the foregoing statement respecting the Mosaic authorship of the
Pentateuch goes beyond the explicit and categorical thesis sus-
tained in " Lex Mosaica," although the latter does not contra-
dict the former.

Lord Arthur Hervey, in his Introduction, remarks' as fol-
lows : "While the whole Pentateuch is, as we have seen, one
continuous narrative, we are nowhere told, nor have any hint
given us, who the narrator is. Of large portions of the Penta-
teuch, speeches, songs, laws, prophecies, we are distinctly
informed that they were written, or uttered, or both, by Moses.
But who wrote the connecting narrative, who recorded in a
book what Moses did or said, we are not told. Reverent criti-
cism is here quite free to put out its best powers. But this
much is certain they bear it in their face, the records on
which the narrative is founded, and which are embedded in it,
are contemporary records ; they are absolutely true ; they may
be, they ought to be, implicitly trusted ; they are integral por-
tions of that Scripture which our Lord, 'the faithful and true
witness,' has told us ' CANNOT BE BROKEN'" (pp. xxxv.-vi.)
The other contributors to the volume speak in the same sense..
That is, while they do not deny, they do not positively affirm

1 89 5.] AND THE HIGHER CRITICISM. 735

that Moses personally committed to writing, as the original
composer and narrator, the entire Pentateuch, as it was con-
tained in the traditional Jewish and Samaritan canon ; they do
affirm, that the Levitical law, and the law of Deuteronomy,
were enacted and promulgated by Moses, and continually speak
of the Mosaic authorship as a well-established fact. Thus, Mr.
Rawlinson says that " there are sufficient grounds for believing
either the entire legislation of these Books (Exodus, Leviticus,
Numbers), or at any rate the great bulk of it, to have pro-
ceeded from Moses, the traditional Lawgiver of the Hebrews, and
to have been consigned by him, or by his orders, to writing,
substantially in the shape in which it has come down to us "
(p. 21). Mr. Douglas says: " The essential critical question
about Deuteronomy is not whether Moses wrote every word of
it down to, perhaps, the last eight verses ; or whether an editor
inserted a statement by way of an explanatory note ; or whether
there were several such editors down to Ezra's time "(p. 55).

The hesitancy and qualifying phrases which appear occasion-
ally in these essays give them an uncertain sound, as if their
authors were afraid to blow a loud clear note on their bugles.
But the whole course of their arguments not only demolishes
all theories opposed to the Mosaic authorship of the Penta-
teuch, but establishes it on the most certain foundations.
They produce an abundance of testimonies from Jewish and
heathen sources, and cap the climax with the testimony of
Our Lord, which is conclusive for a Christian. There is no
rival to dispute the claim of Moses. They have proved that
the Pentateuch is from the age of Moses. Who else can be
the author of Genesis? If he employed scribes in the compo-
sition of the historical portion of the other books, of which
there is no proof, that is irrelevant ; for he still remains their
principal author. If there were later revisions, made by compe-
tent authority, these cannot have made serious alterations, and
do not affect the historical and inspired verity of the text.
Thucydides, Tacitus, Plutarch, Eusebius, are not so well attest-
ed ; the four Gospels not any better. The Pentateuch stands
in its unrivalled majesty, like the pyramid of Cheops which the
fanatical Saracens were not able to tear down.

TESTIMONY OF CHRIST TO MOSES.

The principal importance of the history of Moses consists in
this : that he is the precursor of Christ, his law the antecedent
of the gospel, Judaism the foundation of Christianity. The New

THE LA w OF MOSES [Sept.,

Testament is the completion and fulfilment of the Old Testa-
ment, the two are inseparably bound together, making one
Bible, and the destructive criticism which vainly endeavors to
undermine either one, is equally directed against the other.

The authority of Christ is "fully committed to the authority
of Moses, and the literal truth of his testimony cannot be de-
nied without either denying his adequate knowledge of that
dispensation of grace and mercy of which he was the mediator,
prophet, and high-priest, or imputing to him conscious and de-
liberate fraud, which is not the less immoral, because by a con-
tradiction in terms it is called " pious." It is a dilemma of blas-
phemies. The revealer of God to men, the witness and teacher
of divine truth, is represented as either grossly ignorant, the
dupe of a stupendous forgery, or an accomplice of the authors
of this fraudulent tissue of fables, in duping and deceiving man-
kind for ages, until the counterfeit was detected by the " Higher
Critics."

Those who wish to retain the orthodox belief in the divini-
ty of Christ, and at the same time to effect a compromise" with
" Higher Criticism," are very much embarrassed by the indisput-
able fact that Our Lord gave his explicit sanction to the tradi-
tional doctrine concerning the Pentateuch and the sacred books
of the Jewish canon. Of course, they cannot say that he de-
liberately deceived his hearers. They throw a mantle of fine
words over conduct which in its naked form of unveracity is
wholly abhorrent to the moral sense and the rule of right.
They call it "accommodation." But, as they cannot help hav-
ing misgivings respecting their success in justifying such a course
of conduct in Our Lord, they resort to another subterfuge, viz.,
that he spoke according to his own sincere conviction, but was
himself in error, through his ignorance of the real truth in the
case. Forced to confess that as God he was omniscient, they
pretend that he abdicated for a time his omniscience and as-
sumed with his humanity the limitations of human knowledge.
It is wonderful that intelligent men and professed theologians
could make the blunder of supposing the possibility of change
in a necessary attribute of the unchangeable and eternal God.
They refer to a statement of Our Lord recorded in St. Mark's
Gospel (xiii. 32) : " But of that day and hour knoweth no man,
no not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the
Father." Therefore, say they, the Son of God, Incarnate, might
be ignorant of some things within the scope of divine knowledge,
and among these things might be the real fact of the origin of

1895-] AND THE HIGHER CRITICISM. 73;

the Mosaic Law, in respect to which he had no means of knowing
beyond the testimony of Jewish tradition and the teaching of
the synagogue. This is reasoning worthy of Nestorius. If the
Eternal Son and Jesus were two persons, and it was the human
person who confessed human ignorance, the statement would be.
intelligible. But this is not so. Jesus Christ is one Ego, one
Person, to whom all divine and human attributes are to be re-
ferred as their principle of imputability. Doubtless, omniscience
could no more be called an attribute of his human intellect,
than omnipresence of his human body, omnipotence of his hu-
man will, or eternal existence of his human essence. Neverthe-
less, Jesus Christ is omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, eternal,
because he is a divine person, and these are attributes of his
divine nature. Besides, his human nature has been elevated to
a hypostatic union with his divine nature, and endowed with
the fulness of supernatural grace, the gifts of the Holy Spirit
congruous to his character and office as the mediator between
God and man.

. The psychology of this divine man is beyond our analysis
and conception. The relations and intersections of divine and
human intelligence and will, divine and human thoughts and
volitions, operations of the one person by the divine and human
natures, baffle our efforts at understanding how they coexist
without blending in the personal consciousness of Our Lord.
The distinction between the divine and human operations of
intelligence in Our Lord cannot serve to justify the assertion
that, as man, he was in ignorance of the time of the Last Judg-
ment, and therefore might have been in error concerning Moses
and the Law. For, his declaration that he knew not the day
and hour of the judgment is absolute in respect to himself as
the Son, in contrast with the Father. If, therefore, he ascribes
to the Father a knowledge which is exclusive, and in which the
Son has no share, omniscience is predicated of the Father ex-
clusively, which is equivalent to the exclusive attribution of
divinity, and incompatible with the ascription of co-equal divini-
ty to the Son. There is left, therefore, no interpretation which
is not openly heretical, except that of the Fathers and Doctors
of the church. And this is, that the Son knew the time of the
Last Judgment only inasmuch as he was one with the Father
and the Spirit, in the secret counsels of the Divine Trinity, but
not as a part of the divine revelation which he was to commu-
nicate to the apostles.

This instance is therefore perfectly irrelevant. The divine
VOL. LXI. 47

THE LA w OF MOSES [Sept.,

legation of Moses was a part of the economy of redemption.
Complete knowledge of everything belonging to this economy
^was necessary to the office of Mediator of Redemption, supreme
Prophet, Priest, and King in the Church of God. Prescind-
: ing from divine omniscience, Jesus Christ must have possessed
.adequate and infallible inspiration, as the sovereign legislator
:and teacher and ruler in the kingdom of God, the head over
.all things pertaining to the divine administration of the pre-
sent order of the world.

Knowing everything, as he did, about the past history of
Judaism, it was impossible for our Lord to connive at the per-
petuation of the Jewish tradition concerning Moses and the Law,
much less to give it positive and explicit sanction, unless it
were founded upon the truth. No one disputes that he did do
so. This ought to be enough for any Christian.

And now it will be well to cite his very words, that the
evidence may be set in a more vivid light.

The Scriptures of the Old Testament were classified in three
divisions; the Law, i. e., the Pentateuch, the Prophets, which
included the historical books, and the Psalms. The Pentateuch
was written on a single roll of parchment or papyrus, and was
called the Book of Moses, the Law of Moses, or simply the
Law. Teaching in the temple during the feast of the Passover,
the Lord said : " Did not Moses give you the Law ? and no
one of you keepeth the Law " (John vii. 19). On another oc-
casion he said : " As concerning the dead that they rise again,
have ye not read in the Book of Moses, how in the bush God
spake to him, etc." (Mark xii. 26). Again, he said : " Think not
that I will accuse you to the Father. There is one that ac-
cuseth you, Moses, in whom ye trust. For if ye did believe
Moses, ye would perhaps believe me also. For he wrote of me.
But if ye do not believe his writings, how will ye believe my
words ? " (John v. 45-47). Let it be observed that this is a
formal and explicit reference to the written testimony of Moses,
as a sufficient proof that he was the Messiah, which would have
been a deliberate falsehood, and not a mere accommodation, if
the Book of Moses were not known to him to be genuine and
authentic. During his interview with the disciples whom he met
and accosted on the way to Emmaus ; " Beginning from Moses,
through all the prophets, he expounded to them in all the
Scriptures the things concerning him " (Luke xxiv. 27). That
same night he suddenly appeared among his disciples in Jeru-
salem, " and he said to them : these are the words which I

1 895.] AND THE HIGHER CRITICISM. 739

spake to you while I was yet with you, that all things must
needs be fulfilled, which are written in the Law of Moses, and
in the Prophets, and in the Psalms, concerning me. Then he
opened their minds that they might understand the Scriptures.
And he said to them : thus it is written, and thus it behooved
Christ to suffer, and to rise again from the dead the third day "
(Ibid. 44-46).

To sum up, in the words of Mr. Rawlinson, the Mosaic au-
thorship of the Pentateuch is proved " by the consentient wit-
ness of Jewish and Heathen authorities, of Prophets, Apostles,
Evangelists, Martyrs, Rabbis, historians, philosophers, critics,
poets, covering the space of about fifteen centuries. . .
There remains, however, one witness who, to all Christians, trai/-
scends every other, whose lightest word is of vastly greater im-
portance than the very weightiest evidence that can be gathered
together from the utterances of mere men the witness of our
Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the God-Man, at once hu-
man and Divine " (p. 44).

Professor Sayce takes notice of a fact which is patent to all
competent observers, that at this present moment "the negations
of the so-called ' higher criticism ' are the most wide-spread
and universal, and the assertions of its adherents are the most
positive and arrogant," and he nevertheless affirms that the ebb
of this wave has already set in (p. i). Waves of this kind be-
gin in a limited circle of scholars, and gradually extend their
movement into larger circles so as to influence popular thought.
" It often happens that before they do so other ideas and doc-
trines are already beginning to take their place. Before the
last ripple has reached the shore, the disturbance which first
caused it has passed away."

What Professor Sayce says of the ebbing of the wave of
historical scepticism is very encouraging. It is true also of
every other kind of scepticism. Doubt and denial of every
part of the Catholic Faith, of every principle of Natural Re-
ligion and of rational philosophy have done their utmost, and
have reached their term. There is nothing new left for them
to say or to attempt, in their warfare against Christianity as
a whole, or any one of its essential parts. The effort to sub-
stitute something else in its place has proved a disastrous fail-
ure, which the world is beginning to understand and feel.
There is another tide setting in toward integral, Catholic Chris-
tianity. So that we may hope that the twentieth century will
be a religious age, in which Christianity will triumph.

THE MONASTERY FRONT ON LOCH NESS.

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND.

BY EDWARD AUSTIN.

'HE traveller who has been attracted, by the pros-
pect of a pleasant sail through some of the
loveliest scenery of the Scottish Highlands, to
make the tour on a Caledonian Canal steamer
from Inverness to Oban, must fain be struck by
the appearance of a majestic pile of buildings standing at the
head of Loch Ness, and visible for several miles of the journey
down that romantic lake. Tower and pinnacle, belfry and
spirette, gable and crested roof, arches and mullioned window,
peeping out from mantling ivy and the surrounding clumps of
thick-clad trees and shrubs ; with the gracious waters of the
loch for a foreground, and a background of heathery hills and
purple mountain peaks, form a picture of surpassing beauty and
interest. To a casual stranger the stately frontage appeals with
powerful charm ; but to a Catholic its beauty is rendered more
touching by its associations. It is the Benedictine Abbey of
Fort Augustus the first foundation of the restored Order of
St. Benedict in Scotland.

1 89 5.] MONASTIC! SM IN SCOTLAND. 741

GREAT BENEDICTINE ABBEYS OF AULD LANG SYNE.

In Catholic days the Order of St. Benedict was an important
factor in Scottish history. Its grand abbeys Dunfermline,
Paisley, Kelso, Arbroath, Crossraguel, lona, with their many
dependent priories , not to speak of the more numerous Cister-
cian houses in the southern counties bore each its part in
spiritualizing and civilizing the country. For some five centu-
ries they stood as impregnable fortresses of religion, preserving
intact the Catholic faith, and cherishing the purity of Christian
morals ; leavening the country by their holy examples, glorify-
ing God by the solemnity of a stately ritual, and winning count-
less graces for the land which they adorned. They rose and
flourished and fell ; and their place knows them no more. A
pile of picturesque ruins is all that marks the site of each
departed glory ; what it had taken centuries to bring to matu-
rity crumbled to dust in a few hours under the crowbars and
pickaxes of ruthless " reformers." For three centuries after
that the great order was unrepresented in Scotland. Only in
the distant cloisters of Ratisbon, Erfurt, or Wtirzburg could
communities of Scottish Catholics serve God in the holy monas-
tic state which their forefathers had cherished so dearly.

A STRANGE REVENGE OF THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME.

But like the Catholic Church, whose devoted handmaid it
has ever been, the Order of St. Benedict was destined to live
again in Scotland. In 1876 the late Lord Lovat offered to
the Benedictine authorities, who were seeking a suitable site
for a Scottish foundation, the land and buildings of the old
military fort at the head of Loch Ness, known as Fort Augus-
tus. This "fort had been built in 1729, to serve as a centre
whence the warlike Highlanders who favored the cause of the
exiled Stuarts might be brought into subjection to the Hano-
verian government. Only too well, as history tells us, did the
" Butcher " Duke of Cumberland and his brutal soldiery subju-
gate the unfortunate Highlanders by a policy of wasting and
depopulating, till scarce a Catholic remained where previously
a Protestant was almost unknown. Though no longer needed,
the fort still retained a small garrison as late as 1854, when
the soldiers were withdrawn for service in the Crimea. It re-
mained unoccupied till 1867, when the grandfather of the pre-
sent Lord Lovat purchased it from the government. His great
desire, which was shared by his son, the late lord, was to pre-

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. [Sept.,

sent the property to some religious order, so that the weapon
of menace and repression wielded against Scottish Catholics
might be gathered into the armory of the church. This desire
'found its fulfilment in the acceptance of the fort and its sur-
roundings by the Benedictines.

RESTORATION OF THE BENEDICTINES.

Four years of demolition and of building up left very little
that was recognizable in the old pile, and in August, 1880,
the new monastery was ready for its solemn opening. A
glorious manifestation was that triduum of solemnities of the
grandeur and beauty of Catholic ritual. Seven mitred pre-
lates, a crowd of secular and regular clergy, and a numerous
assembly of the laity, amongst whom were many honored
Catholic names, assembled from all the three kingdoms to give
public welcome to the children of St. Benedict returning from
exile to a land which had once held them dear. With
gorgeous processions, solemn chant and stately ceremony the
celebration passed, and the re-establishment of the monks
in Scotland was an accomplished fact in the history of the
country.

A few years later, and the new monastery had been raised
by the Holy Father to the rank of an abbey, under his own
immediate jurisdiction ; the Scottish monks being thus released
from obedience to their English superiors, and sealed with the
character of the nation to which they had come. A few years
more and a crown was put to the work by the nomination by
his Holiness, and the solemn benediction by Archbishop Per-
sico, of the Rt. Rev. Dom Leo Linse as first abbot of the re-
stored Scottish Benedictines.

INTERIOR OF FORT AUGUSTUS.

We will suppose our reader furnished with an introduction
to some one or other of the inmates of the monastery ; this
has secured for him the favor of a few days' hospitality, thus
enabling him to study his surroundings at leisure. He enters
at the lodge-gate and follows a curved carriage-way shaded by
lime-trees, and separated by a belt of shrubs from a green
meadow used by the school-boys as a cricket-field, to the entrance
door of the hospice. The old moat of the fort still remains on
this side of the buildings, though it is now carpeted with turf.
Where the draw-bridge formerly crossed it, a narrow cloister
supported on arches, with tiled floor and small tinted Gothic

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND.

743

windows the embrasures filled with seats on which casual
beggars await the dole of broken victuals which the porter is
always willing to supply leads to the inner entrance door, over
which stands a little statue of Our Lady of Lourdes. The
door opened to him, he enters a spacious wainscoted hall ; a
broad staircase with handsome balustrade of pitch-pine runs up
two sides of it, and large Gothic windows light up a frescoed
Pieta opposite the entrance the work of one of the artist-
monks.

The visitor has to await -the coming of the guest-father, so
the porter leads him into a large vaulted room, formerly one of

VIEW IN THE QUADRANGLE.

the guard-rooms of the fort, now comfortably furnished and
bright with pictures and books, to await the arrival of that
official in answer to his own particular signal on the large
electric gong in the interior of the monastery. In a few min-
utes the stranger receives a hearty welcome, and is led to the
church for prayer, according to St. Benedict's injunction, and
afterwards conducted to a comfortable room upstairs, which is
allotted to his use during his visit. We will suppose our friend
to have arrived by the evening boat from Inverness ; in that
case he will be summoned, after a few minutes' toilet prepara-
tion, to join the community at supper. Passing down the broad

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. [Sept.,

staircase, he follows his guide through a round-headed arched
passage a relic of the fort buildings and is admitted to the
cloister by a glass door secured by a spring lock from secular
intrusion. The full beauty of the buildings now opens out to
him.

THE CLOISTER^.

The cloisters run round the original quadrangle of the fort,
one hundred feet square. From the windows of fourteenth
century Gothic, headed with exquisite and varied tracery, one
sees on all sides graceful buildings of gray stone, while the soft
green lawn of the quadrangle and the clambering ivy round the
windows give the touch of color needed to complete the
picture. The cloisters themselves are bright with color. The
vaulted roof is of blue of various shades, relieved by white
floriated designs ; the walls of warm cream, with a high dado of
olive green ; the floor covered with mellow-tinted red, yellow,
black, and white tiles. At each corner, on the window side, are
two large stone statues each in its Gothic niche Sts. Benedict
and Scholastica, Maurus and Placidus, Joseph and Theresa, John
Baptist and Martin. The embrasures of the windows are filled
with large seats of stone, and the whole surface of these walls on
the side of the quadrangle is of the same soft gray-tinted stone
as the window tracery. Passing down two sides of the quad-
rangle, our guest enters the great refectory at the end of the
north cloister. It is a long and lofty room, and on either side
a long file of black-habited monks await the entrance of the
abbot ; our friend can scarcely control a strange sense of shy-
ness, though the quiet figures seem quite unaffected by his
advent, and he follows his guide up to a raised dais at the
further end, where stands a small bare table for the abbot, and
on one side of it a guest-table, covered with a white cloth and
furnished in ordinary fashion. The abbot enters and passes up
the hall, amid the low salutes from either side that greet his
approach, and a solemn chanted grace is begun by the superior
and taken up by the monks. At the end all seat themselves at
the small tables before which they have been standing, and
listen for a few seconds, with covered heads, to the reader in a
pulpit at the side of the refectory as he reads out in distinct
tones the portion of the rule of St. Benedict appointed for that
particular day. Our guest mentally congratulates himself that
it is in English. The official reading in Latin has already taken
place at the office of Prime this morning.

i8 9 5.]

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND.

745

Dinner is soon over, and grace being said as before by the
chorus of full-toned voices, the watchful guest-father again
conducts his charge through the two files of waiting monks to
greet the abbot who awaits him in the cloister. A few pleas-
ant words of welcome with a friendly smile, and the promise of
a chat later on, and the visitor is once more conducted to the
guest quarters, where, if he happen to have company in the
shape of others who like himself are sharing monastic hospital-
ity, he may choose to- smoke his cigar in the avenue, or stroll
along the walks of the college garden, high up over the canal
bank.

THE INTERIOR LIFE OF THE ABBEY.

But our friend is anxious to share as much as possible the
life of the monks, so, 'maybe, he eschews cigars, and waits the

VIEW FROM BATTERY ROCK.

tolling of the great bell in the monastery tower which calls to
Compline. Very shabby and weather-beaten looks the little
temporary wooden chapel from outside, but it is very bright
within, for this is the eve of one of the greater feasts, and the
high altar in its rich silk hangings, with flowers in vases and
stands of relics, is an attractive object as one enters the west
door. Seven lighted lamps hang across the sanctuary in honor
of the feast, although the Blessed Sacrament is not reserved
there, but in a small chapel near the door, hung with white

746 MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. [Sept.,

curtains and shut in by its slender white and gold screen, over
which hang other seven lamps.

The monks are entering choir two by two ; the lay brothers,
in black tunics without hood, go to chairs in the body of the
church. A short English reading from some spiritual book, in
accordance with St. Benedict's injunction, is listened to by the
monks seated in their stalls, their hoods drawn over their heads.
A signal is given, and all rise and commence the office. It
proceeds in brisk recitation on a high and sustained note, with
marked pauses between the verses. A few boys from benches
in front of the stalls join in with their treble voices ; they are
the alumni, or boys being educated for the order apart from
the secular school. Each word of the recitation seems to be
struck simultaneously by the whole body of voices ; the effect
produced being rather that of one powerful sonorous voice than
of many voices in accord. This is the result of constant prac-
tice. Some singing to note follows, a sweet-voiced little organ
lending its aid. Then there is sprinkling with holy water, more
prayers, a few minutes of silent recollection, and Compline is
over. A short visit, as each one chooses, to this or that altar
or statue, and. soon all have left the church. Our friend too
makes his way out into the green-lighted avenue with its scent
of lime-blossom, and back to his own quarters. An hour or so
to reading or writing ; then to rest.

AN ABBOT'S MASS.

"Day has come already, surely!" For a deep-toned 'bell
arouses him from heavy sleep. Yes, for the monks, but not
necessarily for guests, for it is only 4 A.M., and our friend
will not rise for Matins to-day. He is ready after a visit per-
haps to the church where Masses have been going on since
6 to partake of breakfast about 8 ; at 9 comes High Mass.
This is sung daily, but as this is a great feast, the lord abbot
celebrates with mitre and crozier, attended by assistant priest
and deacons of honor in addition to the ordinary sacred minis-
ters. This 9 o'clock Mass is attended daily by community and
boys. The music, led to-day by four cantors in copes, is Gre-
gorian, melodious and flowing; it is from the Graduate of Dom
Pothier of Solesmes, the organ unobtrusively sustaining the
voices with its simple harmonies. Tierce is sung before the
Mass; Sext follows; the latter recited on a monotone relieved
by occasional chanting. This is not one of the feasts when a
procession takes place ; on such days, immediately after Tierce,

1 89 5.] MQNASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. 747

during which the lord abbot vests, the monks, headed by cross
and candles, followed by tunicled bearers of a great ark of
relics, the sacred ministers in their vestments and the lord
abbot in pontificals, make their way through the cloisters to
the melody of some ancient responsory or hymn from the
liturgy of the festival. This procession had its origin in the
weekly sprinkling of the different public offices of a monastery
with holy water, the monks accompanying the priest and chant-
ing at different parts of the cloister' as they awaited the
return of the priest from the various apartments he had blessed.
The usual custom now is to perform this blessing privately on
Sunday morning ; but in many monasteries the Sunday and
feast-day procession a relic of the weekly aspersory proces-
sion are still kept up.

IN THE LIBRARY.

Mass over, there is much to see, and our visitor is duly
conducted by his attentive host, the guest-father, to all the
objects of interest. The library is first visited; a suite of rooms
occupying the whole of the ground-floor of the monastery wing.
These rooms are connected by Gothic arches. Convenient
recesses for readers are formed by the book-shelves which stand
out between the windows, dividing each room into two bays, in
each of which the broad, deep window-seat affords a tempting
resting place for the student. The shelves contain about six-
teen thousand volumes, all neatly arranged under their respec-
tive labels Philosophica, Theologica, Historica, Patristica, etc.
In a case in one room is a valuable collection of early printed
books ; among them an Old Sarum Missal, with pen-and-ink
scratches defacing the " Missa Sti. Thomae E.M." in accordance
with the decree of the new self-elected head of the English
Church, King Henry VIII. Side by side with these are choice
old manuscripts. Here is an autograph eleventh century manu-
script of St. Marianus Scotus, founder of the Scottish monas-
tery of Ratisbon, in clear black and red caligraphy on stained
parchment. Here, again, a more elaborate black-letter manu-
script with blue and red capitals, with here and there a glint
of gold ; it is a copy of the conferences of Bernard, abbot of
Monte Casino, and dates from the fourteenth century.

A RICH SACRISTY.

The sacristy is the next object of attention. It is a charm-
ing little Gothic building opening from the south cloister, and

748 MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. [Sept.,

indeed the only building on that side, for the great church in
course of erection will dominate the quadrangle on the south,
and would shut out air and light from any more lofty block of
buildings on that side. The sacristy was originally designed for
a scriptorium, but the lighting was unsatisfactory for painting,
and so the artists have a studio more to their liking on the top
story of the monastery wing, and the former scriptorium, with
a few alterations in the fittings, has been admirably adapted to
its present use. It is divided into two portions by three arches

THE SACRISTY.

resting on square pillars of freestone. The smaller portion, into
which one first enters, is only the height of the cloisters out-
side, and here are kept vestments in a huge press, and valuables
in a large iron safe. A carved pine rack for the mundatory,
corporal, and amice of each father, with his name above the
compartment allotted to him, stands in this part of the build-
ing; it is connected with taps and towels for ablutions before
vesting. The larger portion of the building is fitted up with
vesting tables around the walls. It is longer than the other by
a good-sized apse at either end, and rises several feet higher to
an open timbered roof. To examine all the treasures here is
a serious business. The sacristan is obliging enough to do the

1 89 5.] MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. 749

honors, and some of the chief of the vestments and pieces of
plate are produced for the inspection of the guest. One beau-
tiful set of High Mass vestments of cloth of gold, with orphreys
of dark ruby velvet thickly embroidered with gold and set with
amethyst and topaz stones, was procured by a benefactor by a
fortunate chance at something like a fourth of its original
market value and presented to the monastery. Another modern
vestment of Gothic form has delicately embroidered figures in
the orphreys, which look fine enough for pencil work. Then
there is the large relic of the Holy Cross one of the notable
relics in its setting of ivory and gilt, and some beautiful and
costly chalices, one of them literally encrusted with gems. But
the morning has stolen away and the dinner-bell calls to the
silent refectory, with its quiet community at their simple meal ;
everything passes as at supper last night, except that at the
end, after a short chanted grace, the Miserere is intoned and
all pace slowly two and two round two cloisters to the church,
where grace is concluded, and a few minutes spent in silent
recollection.

A BEAUTIFUL ENVIRONMENT.

The watchful guest-father is now ready to show his charge
some of the beauties of the neighborhood, and it is with a
strange old-world sensation that the secular walks by the side
of his companion, clothed in monastic garb, through the entrance
lodge and down the road by the TarfT bridge, and climbs the
steeps of Glendoe to visit the waterfall, or follows the windings
of the Tarff through the wooded slopes of Ardachy. Or, it may
be, .their route is by the canal, where they run the gauntlet of
a crowd of inquisitive tourists characterized by that forgetful-
ness of les convenances which seems the mark of British travellers,
and wend their way along the grass-grown towing-path, amidst
the scent of bracken and pine-woods the far-off peak of Ben
Tigh and the more distant hills of Kintail, blue with the haze
of a summer afternoon, forming a charming picture for the eye
to rest upon. Then home again, and at 4:30, after a cup of
tea, Vespers in church, and Benediction, as it is a feast, and in
reading or writing or various occupations time passes, and
night comes round again with its perfect quiet and welcome
rest.

Our friend was promised, on his presentation to the lord
abbot, an opportunity of further acquaintance. At some con-
venient interval in the day, therefore, he is summoned by the

750

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND.

[Sept.,

guest-father or porter, and conducted to the quarters occupied
by the superior. These are situated in the refectory wing on
the first floor. A good-sized sitting-room, whose two medium-
sized windows with broad, pitch-pine window-seats overlook the
monastery garden, with the far-stretching loch bounded by
craggy, wooded heights on either side in the background.
After a pleasant chat the visitor is shown the graceful little
chapel, which we lately viewed from outside. It is connected
with the abbot's sitting-room by a small corridor, bridged over
the intervening space. The chapel was originally built as a
Lady chapel for the termination of the east cloister, and thither

IN THE LIBRARY,

the community, every Saturday after Vespers, used to go in
procession, chanting the litany for the conversion of Scotland
a practice observed since the foundation of the abbey. The
plans for building the new church necessitated the removal of
this chapel, to leave room for a cloister communicating with
the future choir and sanctuary ; it was therefore conveyed stone
by stone to its present site and re-erected there. The statue of
Our Lady as Regina Monachorum, which formerly stood over
the altar, has been placed on a pedestal in the new cloister,
and is now the object of devotion for the Saturday procession.
To return to the abbot's chapel the five small, two-light

1 89 5.] MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. 751

windows in the apse are filled with exquisite glass by Hardman,
representing the five joyful mysteries of the rosary. The stone
and marble altar with its carved frontal of the Nativity, and its
enamelled tabernacle in which the Blessed Sacrament reposes,
stands in the centre of the apse, leaving a space all round.
The floor is of polished oak parquet ; the roof panelled in
color, leaving dark oak ribs and bosses ; a dark oak carved
dado, having a nicely finished credence and piscina, runs all
round the chapel, and is terminated at the western end by a
closed screen, with broad Gothic arch leading to the tiny sacristy
beyond. In a niche jf\ the wall on the Epistle side is a hand-
some stone statue of St. Benedict, one of the presents to the
lord abbot on the recent celebration of his half-jubilee as a monk.
It is striking to find that so many of the objects of devotion
.and art which enrich the various portions of the monastery are
the gifts of friends. The most valuable articles in the abbot's
jpontificalia, and the whole of his altar furniture and vestments,
not to mention the bulk of the vestments and appointments of
the abbey sacristy, are from that source. The explanation may
be found in the proverbial care taken of all the possessions of
a religious house by inmates vowed to poverty, and the conse-
quent trust engendered in the minds of donors that their bene-
factions will be jealously guarded.

THE COMING ABBEY CHURCH.

But we have not yet explored by far the most interesting
portion of the monastery grounds. As we have hinted more
than once, a church is rising hard by the abbey. It was a wise
course, though at the time much criticised, which left the crown-
ing feature of the group of buildings to be added last. The pile
all but complete, it is easier to judge what is needed to give a
perfect finish to the whole by a temple not unworthy of its
surroundings. The church which is to dominate the stately
abbey at Fort Augustus will surpass in beauty and majesty as
is but fitting all that has yet been accomplished there. It will
measure some three hundred feet. from its eastern Lady Chapel
to its western baptistery. Its vaulted roof of rosy yellow stone
will rise some seventy feet from the pavement, and its lofty
tower and spire will dwarf all surrounding buildings. When,
on September 24, 1890, after some two years' work upon
its concrete foundations, the first stone was blessed by the
Metropolitan of Scotland, a steady .building work was com-
rneaced which has never wholly ceased ; although, in so large

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. [Sept.,

an undertaking, results are not so apparent as some might ex-
pect, nevertheless much has been done. Circumstances have
lately arisen which have tended to the concentration of effort
towards the completion of the pillars and arches of the choir-
beautiful fluted columns, with detached shafts of gray granite
caught in by fillets and of the north aisle of the choir where the
organ chamber is to be. For it is not long since the Catholic
papers informed the world that the great organ of the Albert
Palace, Battersea, had become the property of the Benedictines
of Fort Augustus, and loud were the laments from the Presby-
terian pulpits of Inverness on that Sunday when the special
goods train with its precious freight was awaiting the close of
the " Sabbath " to have that freight transferred to a Loch Ness
steamer, that people should be found in Scotland in this nine-
teenth century so sunk in gross superstition as to dream of
propitiating the Almighty by what the famous Knox had long
ago styled " the deil's kist o' whustles " ! Nevertheless, in spite
of the Presbyterians, the organ duly arrived, and is now stored
away in various parts of the abbey, until it can be erected in
the new church.

The presence of the organ in their midst has stirred up the
directors of the building operations to devise some speedy plan
for its erection, and this explains why the aisle with its organ
chamber is to be the object of the builders' efforts in the imme-
diate future ; the pillars and arches of the choir, closed in with
temporary walls and roof, will form at the same time a church
large enough for present needs, while the great building may
go on slowly growing into completion around, without disturb-
ing the portion adapted for use. A work such as this noble
abbey church, destined to rival the glorious works of the Ages
of Faith, must needs call forth sympathy and help from those
who realize the supernatural confidence to which it bears wit-
ness. A small annual endowment enables the fathers to keep
the work slowly advancing ; already generous benefactors have
come forward to undertake a definite portion, and St. Joseph,
to whom the great edifice is to be dedicated, will doubtless re-
ward the unwavering trust which can embark so boldly on so
huge an undertaking, by raising up generous and willing helpers
to bring it to completion.

FINIS CORONAT OPUS.

There is one more establishment in Fort Augustus, connected
with the abbey, which our friend will be anxious to visit.

1 89 5.] MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND. 753

Towards the close of the year 1891 the Right Rev. Abbot, who
had long been anxious to supplement the foundation of the
abbey by the establishment of a monastery for Benedictine nuns,
was enabled to make a humble beginning of the work in a private
residence in the village with the seven or eight candidates who
had offered themselves for the new undertaking. Later on cir-
cumstances placed at his disposal the former Catholic chapel and
priest's house of the Mission ; this building, after the charge of
the parish had been entrusted to the Benedictines, had been
adapted to the use of an active order of sisters who taught there
the Catholic Poor School. A pretty little stone building was

VIEW FROM THE RlVER TARFF.

provided for a school-house. It stands at the edge of the abbey
grounds, facing the canal, and the old building was altered to
meet the requirements of a community of cloistered nuns. A
devotional little chapel of wood and iron, with quadrangle of
cloisters of the same material, helped to make a very complete
little priory. Within were constructed parlors with grilles where
the nuns might hold such converse with externs as their rule
allowed, and within the enclosure all the requisite monastic
offices refectory, chapter, sacristy, etc. were conveniently
arranged.

The nuns entered into residence in August of the following
VOL. LXI. 48

754

MONASTICISM IN SCOTLAND.

[Sept.,

year, and passed their time of probation under a mistress of
novices kindly lent for the purpose by another monastery of
the order, and on September 8, 1893, four choir nuns, the first-
fruits of the infant monastery, by special permission from Rome
made their profession in the hands of the Right Rev. Abbot.
The community now numbers some twelve members. The
Divine Office is daily kept up in choir, and the nuns pursue
their round of prayer and labor with the regularity and zeal of
an old-established religious house ; bringing down, as we may
confidently hope, by their prayers and sacrifices many graces
upon the land.

A satisfactory ending it is to a pleasant walk along the
winding road that climbs the hill, in view of the wooded slopes
of Glen Tarff, and with the distant heights of Corryarrick in
the background, to pass from the glare of sunshine into the
subdued light of the little priory church, and there from the
small strangers' chapel close to the tiny sanctuary, with its
flower-decked altar and veiled tabernacle, to listen to the sub-
dued chanting from the unseen choir beyond the sanctuary
screen, where the nuns are singing their Vespers. It is a visit
which does much to make one realize that there are other and
keener joys for the human heart than this ordinary work-a-day
world can afford, but which, perchance, we scarcely dreamt of
before.

1 895-] THE MASTER'S CUP. 755

THE MASTER'S CUP.

BY HILDEGARDE.

" Be strong to bear, O heart ;
Love knoweth no wrong.
Didst thou love God in heaven,
Thou wouldst be strong."

CHAPTER I.

HY need we seek in the realms of imagination or
the dusty pages of written lore for deeds of
heroism and lives sublime ? We, who ofttimes
live in the very atmosphere of tragedies such as
the world of fiction has never dreamed of of
heroes whose greatest heroism lies in the very silence which
shrouds their deeds of greatness.

It has been my fortune nay, my privilege, to guard for
several years the details of a true life-tragedy for which I have
never known a parallel. Only now, since time has swept away
all traces of the actors therein, do I feel justified in rehearsing
the sad details suppressing, as for prudent reasons I feel bound
to do, the names involved. My own part is a secondary one.

I was, at the time my story opens, a widow and alone
bereft of two sons who were seeking their fortunes abroad, and
of a daughter who had chosen a life consecrated to God in a
religious house. Dreary indeed would have been my lot had I
not early sought and found consolation and company there
where one never seeks in vain. Morning and evening through-
out the year found me in our modest parish church, a humble wor-
shipper before the Tabernacle almost as familiar an object as the
pews themselves, and because so, perhaps as unobserved as they.

When not in the church I was seeking for some small
corner in the world where my services might bestow comfort
where comfort was spare.

One morning, seated in my accustomed place, I became
conscious of a strange face among the worshippers one that I
had never seen before, and yet it seemed to rivet my attention
with a fascination which I cannot explain. How shall I
describe that countenance with the faintest approach to the
impression made upon me in that first moment an impression
only deepened by the lapse of time, and now glorified by

756 THE MASTER'S CUP. [Sept.,

memory? The face was that of a woman of about thirty-five
years, the figure tall and slight, the hair black, and smoothly
parted from a broad, white brow. There was no trace of color
in her face, save that which was lent it by a pair of large, deep
blue eyes, whose long lashes, as she looked down upon the book
in her hand, cast upon it a gentle shadow. The majestic bear-
ing, the saint-like expression of that countenance I can neither
describe in fitting terms nor can I ever forget. Who was she ?
I queried. Was she but a visitor, or was she a new member
of the congregation ? I resolved to do all I could to find this
out, so under the pretext of a pressing matter of business in
connection with a charitable league of which I was a member,
and heartlessly ignoring the fact that Father Harris had not
yet breakfasted, I made my way to the vestry, where, after a
few preliminaries, I put my question to the good priest.

" Father," said I, " who is that beautiful creature that occu-
pied the pew beside me to-day?" "Why, my child?" he re-
plied, perceiving the earnestness in my voice ; " why do you
want to know? Is the demon of curiosity attacking you so
early in the morning?" "No, father," I answered, determined
not to be turned aside by his chaffing tone, " I must know ; do
tell me, is she a new parishioner?" "Yes, she is," he said;
" she has taken a house on your own street, and is anxious to
join your charitable work." " But what is her name ? " I asked.
Before I could get a reply the vestry-door opened, and coming
directly towards us was the object of my inquiry, whereupon,
of course, I became absorbed in some work at the other side
of the room, and awaited the turn of events. I was not left
long to myself. " Here is our secretary, Miss Hamilton," I
heard the priest say ; " she will be glad to welcome you to our
league"; and soon I was clasping, in unconcealed delight, the
hand of my new friend. " I am so glad to meet you," said I
an expression commonplace enough had I not thrown into the
words a wealth of feeling which must have surprised her.
" Thank you," she said simply, and then, as she turned her gaze
full upon me, I saw a depth of sadness in those wonderful
eyes which silenced me for several moments. This, then, was
our introduction, and as our homes lay in the same direction,
we went out together. She too lived alone. The mourning
dress and veil told of family bereavement, and of other sor-
rows with perhaps an element of bitterness in them which
death alone seldom brings.

Yes, thought I, there is some tale of human woe behind that

1895-] THE MASTER'S CUP. 757

calm exterior. Yet, O the sweetness dwelling in her counte-
nance ! Can that be compatible with a great grief ? How my
heart ached for her after we parted all the more because my
sympathy must be a silent one, until she should stoop to ask
it. As time went on our duties, as well as our devotions,
threw us much in each other's company. It was not long
before many sufferers with eager hearts waited the coming of
her footsteps, and the touch of her cool hands upon their
fevered brows. A " ministering angel " in truth she soon
became, and, though living herself in a simplicity almost
approaching austerity, her alms were abundant and her charities
lavishly bestowed.

I had been in her house several times. Rigid simplicity
reigned there. Poverty, indeed, it resembled bare floors, bare
walls, and the plainest of furniture ; yet withal there was an air of
spotlessness and order which is inseparable from true refinement.

I soon discovered that she had no friend but myself in the
city ; also that the postman seldom, if ever, stopped at her door.
In her conversation no word of her family or of absent friends
passed her lips. While this sometimes aroused a little of that
curiosity inherent in my nature, it did not in the least alter
my admiration and love for my friend. Her sorrows were poured
out before the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I knew thence she drew
the strength and comfort she needed. Why, I argued, should I
desire to receive any share of a confidence so wisely bestowed ?
And so I quieted any questionings which arose within me.

Every morning I joined her on the way to church, and
after Mass I waited the termination of her lengthy devotions,
and we walked home together.

One morning she asked me to spend the afternoon with her,
in order to finish some sewing for a family in great need.
" You can arrange the work," she said, " and I can sew it on
the machine ; in this way we can accomplish more. And r Emily,
you don't know how lonely I have felt of late, and how I
have longed for some one to talk with me." "Dear Florence,"
said I (for we were now familiar enough to dispense with our
formal titles), " nothing could give me greater pleasure ; and
only that I have feared to intrude, I should not have allowed
you ever to remain alone." " Well, dear," she replied, as the
tears welled up in her eyes, " I am poor company, I am afraid ;
it would be selfish in me to ask you often." " Selfish ! " I
echoed, " well then, I like selfishness. I don't know anything I
like better." " You must leave it at home then, when you come
this afternoon," she said, " for I have something to tell you,

75 8 THE MASTER'S CUP. [Sept.,

and a selfish person makes a poor listener." Here we shook
hands and parted.

That afternoon found me true to my appointment, seated in
her little front room surrounded by many articles of children's
wear. While Florence busily worked upon the machine few
words passed our lips, for I was awaiting her story, and she
looked preoccupied and seemed forgetful of everything but
the work in hand. Presently, however, she joined me on the
low seat by the window, and taking my hand in hers, she
began her life-story thus : ,

" You can understand me, Emily. I feel that I can trust
you, and I reproach myself for not having revealed to you
before some part, at least, of the mystery which surrounds my
life. On the other hand, dear, it will be a relief to me to have
the sympathy which you cannot refuse when you have heard
all. Yet should I, in word or tone, betray any impatience or
lack of resignation to the Great Will that orders all events and
fits his crosses upon our shoulders, I beg you not to allow me
to continue, because God has been very good to me, and he
has ordered all things for the best." Here that heavenly
expression which I had observed at our first meeting came into
her eyes, as she resumed :

" I belonged to an old and honored family, living in the city
of Boston. My father held a high position in the state, two of
his brothers were dignitaries of the church, and two others
prominent lawyers and eminent men in every respect. I was
the only girl ; I had but one brother, who was younger than
myself. We had lived in great happiness and worldly pros-
perity, and every advantage had been given us in the way of
education at home. Our first real sorrow came when Louis
went off to college. He was a fine, handsome, manly fellow,
and a great favorite with every one. Naturally he was quick
of temper ; but this was never apparent except when attacked
upon some point of honor, or in support of his religion, of
which he was an ardent defender. Yet the noble-hearted
generosity which characterized his repentance after an outburst
of temper did more than make atonement for any offence.

" His college career commenced with bright prospects on all
sides. He became a brilliant scholar, and both professors and
companions pronounced him a most lovable boy. Shortly after
his departure I became engaged to a young man of wealth and
family, whom I had known from early childhood. Our marriage
was to be hastened on account of a foreign appointment which
would necessitate his absence from the country for several

i895-] THE MASTER'S CUP. 759

years, so that I was busily occupied in making my preparations.
Alas ! that event, with many another bright hope, was involved
in a general wreck, which was all the more disastrous and pain-
ful as it was brought about by one upon whom all our warm-
est affections centred. Poor, darling Louis ! Yes, he who was
our pride and our hearts' treasure his was destined to be
the unwilling hand which should effect the ruin which ensued.

" At college some differences arose on a point of honor
between a classmate and himself, which, contrary to the lately
altered laws of the State, they determined to settle by a duel.
They met, these two hot-headed young fellows, and before it
was known at headquarters one received a mortal blow, and
that one was oh ! think of it, Emily not our darling Louis.
His opponent was a bitter enemy to our faith.

"That day my father and uncle were telegraphed for. My
mother and myself were in ignorance of what had followed
until the following morning, when the glaring newspaper head-
ings revealed the awful truth which only too soon received con-
firmation from the lips of my father. I shall not linger over
those long weeks of agonizing suspense, nor describe that dread-
ful trial scene. True, we were strong in sympathy, friends, and
influence, and well able to meet the heavy expense necessarily
incurred. But the opposing side was stronger in influence, and,
worse than all, in bigotry. Yes, dear, after those weeks of wait-
ing, of straining every nerve to wrest our dear one from the
hands of the law, the worst came at last. Do not ask me how
he bore it : he went to the scaffold like a martyr to his crown ;
his eyes raised to heaven, and clasping a crucifix, his last
words were words of forgiveness for his enemies.

" Yet between the sentence and the execution there remained
an interval during which we made the last giant efforts to save
him. My father, at an enormous expense, secured the service
of a Spanish merchant vessel, with the design of effecting my
brother's escape. This, by means of heavy bribes to the jailers,
very nearly succeeded. He escaped from a window at night-
fall and boarded the vessel, but the latter was hardly out of
port when a government ship was sent in hot pursuit. My
father's hopes were thus baffled and his fortune well-nigh ex-
hausted ; but he was spared the last heart-breaking trial. He
was attacked by brain fever, and soon sank under it. My
darling mother lived only a week after the fatal day, and left
me, as you see me, alone." " Alone ! " said I, " not alone,
Florence ; surely your betrothed was by to support you ? " " He
would have remained, dear, had I allowed him, in spite of many

THE MASTER'S CUP. [Sept.,

objections on the part of his family; but I spared him the
ordeal. Yes, he would have remained with me he begged, he
implored me to allow him ; but it was right, was it not, in me
to be firm in my refusal ? And since, poor fellow, he has gone
to his reward the victim of a railroad accident."

Here my friend broke down ; the rehearsal of her life's
sorrow was too much for her. As for me, I was wholly un-
nerved, and was already sobbing bitterly on her shoulder.
" Florence," I said, when I could trust myself to speak, " who
has taught you to carry this weight of grief with such a brave,
generous heart ? " " Who, Emily ? Have we not seen the heart
of the tenderest, most loving of human mothers torn in anguish
at the sight of her Divine Son, laden with the sins of the whole
world, and the object of its bitterest hatred and cruelty? Can
my sorrows bear any likeness to these ? I who have deserved by
my sins the chastisements which God has seen fit to send me ? "

With such words as these, and that beautiful light shining
in her eyes, she pacified my resentful feelings, after which I
said good-by, and made my way to the dimly-lighted church,
where in that Blessed Presence I could think it all over, her
last words still ringing in my ears :

" The Lord may sweeten the waters

Before I stoop to drink ;
But if Mara must be Mara,
He will stand beside the brink."

CHAPTER II.

Holy Week had come round ; my relations with Florence
Hamilton were of the same friendly, almost sisterly nature.
She had altered somewhat within the past few months. Her
hair was slightly tinged with gray ; her health appeared some-
what impaired ; there was a transparency about her complexion
and a glassiness in her eyes which caused me some anxiety.
But she assured me that my fears were groundless, and almost
laughed at my suggestion that she should not go out to such
an early Mass. Morning and evening there she was, and, as
usual, I went and returned with her, except on Holy Thursday,
when through sheer fatigue I could wait for her no longer. As
far as I could ascertain, she remained all day without breaking
her fast ; for this I gave her a sharp rebuke, which she took in
her sweet, submissive way.

Good Friday came, and although the morning services were
very long, they were not long enough to satisfy the devotion of

1895-] THE MASTER'S CUP. 761

my friend. I made bold this time, however, and went up and
begged her to come out with me ; but she turned her eyes,
brimming with tears, towards me, and I pressed her no further.
" Do not worry about me," she said. " Good Friday is my feast-
day ; I would like to spend it here." And so, though loath to
leave her, I went home, to return at three o'clock for the
Stations of the Cross, which were to be made by the entire
congregation. Passing my friend's house when this hour
arrived, I found that the door was locked ; I concluded that
her piety had urged her to anticipate the hour for devotions,
and yet reaching the church some minutes before any one else
was on the scene, I could not see her. Anxiously my eyes
scanned the seats and aisles ; but no, she was not present.
Could she have gone to another church ? I could only think
this when the Stations commenced. My thoughts were con-
tinually upon her during that holy exercise, and I offered my
prayers that God would pour abundant comfort that day into
her afflicted heart. Little dreamed I that my prayer had
already found an answer.

We were nearing the twelfth Station when suddenly I
noticed a crowd gathering around the spot directly in front of
it. Some one had fainted, I thought yes, there they were
carrying a lady in black. Surely, thought I, as I strained my
sight to catch a glimpse of the face, it could not ah, no ! it
could not be the form of Florence Hamilton. Before the
thought was framed in my mind I had made my way through
the crowd surrounding her, only to have my dreadful fears con-
firmed. Yes, it was she ; no face but hers ever wore that sweet,
calm smile. " She has fainted," I said to the man who was
helping to carry her. " I am her friend ; bring her to the
vestry, and some one run for the doctor."

",Lady," said the man, his eyes riveted on that marble-cold
face, " it looks like death ; see, she must have died some hours
ago." " Oh, no ! " I replied, " it cannot be. I spoke with her
just before noon." But dreadful as the thought was to me, I
soon saw that his words were only too true ; my saintly friend
had breathed her last. There at the feet of her crucified Lord,
before him in whose footsteps she had walked so faithfully and
generously, had the tide of sorrow overwhelmed her heart, and
burst the prison-bonds of her soul ? We mourn the loss of those
we love, too often selfishly ; but who could sorrow when the
hand of Death leads the long-tried sufferer from the dark of Cal-
vary's mountain into the bright light of an abiding Resurrection ?

762 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SOCIETY. [Sept.,

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF
SOCIETY.*

BY REV. GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P.

'HIS book is the first attempt to supply a manual
for the guidance of students interested in what
is described as the scientific exposition of society.
The plan is original as applied to the subject
treated except so far as it may have been sug-
gested by writers who began the construction of a method simi-
lar to that used in the physical sciences. Starting with the
proposition that the method of credible sociology must be the
method of observation and induction, it sets about arranging an
order of observation with the object of directing attention to
significant facts and to the essential relation of facts to each
other.

The arrangement is unusual, but it would be a very great
error to suppose that its main value rests in that rests in giv-
ing to a familiar subject a new appearance. After all, human be-
ings in association are the subject-matter of sociology. They
and their institutions are its material, and no one has ever lived
but has acquired a fair share of knowledge by experience and
necessary inference concerning both. But from this very famil-
iarity men are too ready to conclude that they are capable of
dealing with the most complex social problems that arise. Our
authors by framing their method, or rather by applying the
method of biological investigation to this subject, show, at least,
how far away the conclusions drawn by careful examination and
comparison of social phenomena may be from the rough-and-
ready generalizations, of every-day practice.

The school to which our authors appear to belong gives
the primary importance to the physical part of man ; and though
they are careful to question the value of any sociology which
calculates upon stable equilibrium in unchristian society, they
apparently hold that even Christian morality is a social evolu-
tion rather than a standard of eternal and immutable justice

* An Introduction to the Study of Society. By Albion W. Small, Ph.D., head Professor
Sociology in the University of Chicago, and George E. Vincent, Vice-Chancellor of the
Chautauqua System of Education.

1895-] AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SOCIETY. 763

to which every man is bound to conform. Here, perhaps, we
may find the chief weakness of the positive and historic soci-
ology.

But they have done well in insisting upon a return to real
life for its phenomena. Our authors give Comte and Spencer
the chief credit for the suggestion of that mode of handling
social facts ; but Aristotle has the earlier claim, since he laid it
down that to attain the truth concerning moral action you must
look to what men really do ; and that in politics and economics
those judge best who examine the processes of growth in what
would be now called the living organism.

Indeed, Messrs. Small and Vincent have done to some who
have supplied the materials for the study of society but scant
justice, while they have bestowed on others more credit than
they "are in any respect entitled to. Notwithstanding a breadth
of view and a dignity of manner owing to which they contrast
favorably with certain scientific and economic writers on both
sides of the Atlantic, they display an animus which the intel-
lectual world owes to the Humanists of the Renaissance in the
first instance, and to what Mr. Burke so truly and contemptu-
ously described as " the sophists and economists " of the last
century in the second.

The importance of the study of social science cannot be
over-estimated. In a more or less formal manner it has been
engaging the attention of the learned bodies of the Old World
for this generation and the preceding one. The work accom-
plished in the annual meetings of the Social Science Congress
of the United Kingdom goes far beyond the wildest hopes of
the first promoters. There is hardly a subject conceivably affect-
ing human welfare which has not been discussed. Its views
after debate have . been taken up by public men and are in
great part embodied in recent legislation. The gradual and
conciliatory adjustment of labor difficulties in England must
to a considerable extent be credited to the humane interest
taken in the working-man by the most accomplished persons of
both sexes in that country. We have no hesitation in saying
that this interest is the product of the sessions of the Congress,
and, on the other hand, that interest has gone far to elevate and
purify the judgment of the working-man when he saw his life
and its objects the chosen subject for the labor and sympathy
of the classes he has been taught to regard as hostile to him.

There is no study more ancient than that of society, even
though it has been correctly enough looked upon as the most

764 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SOCIETY. [Sept.,

recent branch of learning. The earliest works of poets and his-
torians and philosophers contain hints for the settlement of social
rights and relations, and even rules for the government of society.
One of the great factors in society, money, is mentioned very
much as it would be spoken of now in a novel, or, according to
the writer's purpose, as it would be dealt with in the Times'
city article. What can be more modern in its meaning and
effect than the account of the purchase of Machpelah by Abra-
ham for a shekel of silver current money of the merchant ?
MacLeod * cites the Iliad (vii. 468) to show that in Homer's time
the value of things in Greece was estimated in oxen as it would
be now in pounds sterling. From the Senchus Mor it would
seem that values were measured by the same standard in Ire-
land at the earliest period, and later on a double and a triple
standard came into use, which, however, must be regarded as
corresponding with subdenominations of the larger ones of other
monetary systems. That this is probable, we think, may be
fairly inferred from the elaborate and minute law of distress,
which constituted the largest head of the Irish laws and appears
to have fixed the values of articles to be seized with a search-
ing care. The antiquity of this branch of jurisprudence is respec-
table several centuries before our era so that we have already
a venerable age for the use of that factor in society which
expresses even more than the word contract how wide is the
range of man's relations to his fellows. We have incidentally
another social factor, itself a social science of the highest im-
portance law ; so that we are quite entitled to insist upon the
recognition of departments of social knowledge long before
Comte included sociology, or, as he called it, social physics, in
his hierarchy of sciences.

Pursuing the subject of money on account of its close con-
nection with all the forces that act and react in society, we
find that this useful servant was employed by nations to whose
civilizations we look back with a sort of mysterious awe when
we find them using the methods and resources of the most com-
plicated forms of society. The glamour which hangs over Rome
is intelligible. Her legal system, the most absolutely perfect
science of right ever devised, we would almost a priori expect
from her great jurists, the rivals in their own realm of her great
statesmen and her great generals in affairs and arms. Every
social agent of our own time we would expect to meet with in
Rome ; but who would dream of finding paper money among

* Prin. of Econ. Phil., vol. i. p. 186.

1 895.] AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SOCIETY. 765

the Chinese 2,697 years before our era ? There is in the Asiatic
Museum of St. Petersburg a bill or bank-note issued by a Chi-
nese bank in 1399 B. c. In the Metropolitan Museum of Art
of New York there are tablets of the banking transactions of
"the mighty city," bearing date when Nebuchadnezzar threatened
the world from those towers and walls that almost reached the
sky. Nor is there anything crude in the conception and form
of these documents of banking. They record loans made in
silver shekels, drafts, pledges of security, and the other minutiae
of accounts, which seem to be more in accordance with genuine
banking than the transactions of the extensive modern limited
liability companies and some of the large finance houses of
Europe. The precision of the Chinese banks at a period which
seems to push the Deluge back somewhat farther than English
Churchmen and old-fashioned Non-conformists in England or
Ireland would be disposed to tolerate, fully equals the most
exacting demands of the present day. The Chinese bills bore
the name of the bank, number of the note, value, place of issue,
date, and signature of the proper bank officers. The value was
expressed in figures, words, and in some cases in pictorial repre-
sentations showing coins or ingots equal to the face value of
the paper. We hardly recollect a year during this generation
in which there was not some tinkering attempt at legislation
in the British Parliament concerning notes and checks in order
to prevent forgeries and fraudulent payments. Looking at this
evidence of social activity in the most central and all-animating
seat of social life 4,500 years ago, we are inclined to regard with
amazement our authors' history in the first chapter of the
second book, entitled " The Family on the Farm." It looks like
the puerility of dilettante science when put face to face with the
force of those great dead civilizations of which we are the too-
thankless heirs.

The confidence with which it is assumed that all speculation
concerning society is a modern product, is the most exasperat-
ing of all the pretensions of the positivists or their congeners,
and these like congeners elsewhere in natural history are the
most bitter enemies of the generic type. To a very large ex-
tent, we must allow, the authors of this manual write in a spirit
not unworthy of the cause of science. They do not claim for
their work any value higher than that of a guide-book in a
laboratory. As a guide-book assuming the laboratory it is
excellent. We know of no manual since Whately's Logic that
displays more acuteness and originality in the general method

766 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SOCIETY. [Sept.,

and in the division and order of parts. But have they the
laboratory? That is the question. We doubt it.

There is a wide difference between entering into the labora-
tory of a chemist book in hand, entering into a museum in any
department of natural science book in hand, and taking our
authors* manual into their Utopias of the " Family on the Farm,"
of the " Rural Group," of the " Village," of the " Town and City."
The first laboratory, that of the family on the farm, is more
ideal, or rather, less practically real, than the creations of good
writers of fiction. The second, that of the village, is decidedly
inferior in its picture of the probable conditions of individual
and social life to the very bald report of the action of a body of
emigrants on arriving on the coast of an unoccupied district
which Mr. Nassau Senior gives to illustrate his proposition con-
cerning the monopoly called land, that it repays with less and
less relative assistance every increase in the expenditure upon
it. They are all creatures of the imagination, very much like
the laborers and farmers, landlords and capitalists of Mr. John
Stuart Mill, of Mr. Ricardo, and the rest of their school.

Moreover, our authors, as if to give a special importance
to the study to which they offer this book as an introduction,
take no account, or very little, of what is usually called political
economy. Yet under that name by far the largest part of the
subject-matter suggested in their book has been hitherto treated.
They call economics a small part of social science. We respect-
fully submit that their own very ingenious manual proves it to
be by far the largest part, if we eliminate their very irrelevant
importation of physical science.

The analogy on which they base this method of treatment
is remote. In the first place, it is opposed to all experience ; in
the second, to the very instincts of the racfc. We do not know
that the lower animals are social merely because they are gre-
garious. The very wonderful resemblances to some of the
operations of community life do not seem to have yet evolved
a code of ethics, or even an individual conscience in bees and
beavers. Mr. Romanes' dog had a deep respect for certain pro-
hibited articles belonging to his master. The latter attributed
it to the working of a developing conscience ; we are prosaic
enough to discover it in the recollection of the stick or whip in
the hand of that enlightened philosopher.

The world of investigation into the facts of political science,
economics, and morals was not born yesterday, or by the Thames,
or in the universities of Revolutionary France. Our authors

1 895.] AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SOCIETY. 767

take a fling at the pedagogic slavery to books, which they tell
us was a survival from the scholasticism which Bacon began to
destroy in the thirteenth century by turning from words to
things as the real source of knowledge. What authority have
they for holding their fanciful families, villages, and towns to
be more real entities than those which engaged every philoso-
pher of antiquity and their students, the Schoolmen ? The phe-
nomena of mental and moral activities within the monk's own
little world, the world under his individual cowl, differ in no
way from those of the authors', or from Locke's. Men from the
cloister guided great kings in the most difficult periods of their
reigns, laid and accomplished plans for the reclamation of vast
regions bare and desolate or covered with forest and morass,
and introduced into them not imaginary families or rural groups
for imaginary villages or towns, but men and women who are
the distant parents of the vast majority of civilized man-
kind.

Why, to hear our modern scientists or sciolists talk, there
never was a Tyre in which a commerce inconceivably immense
centred, or a Nineveh which " multiplied her merchants above
the stars of heaven." The vast transactions of those two com-
munities alone must have called for social adjustments of the
greatest variety, because the greatest va-riety of social forces
were engaged. The trade carried on by the Carthaginians seems
to have been on an equal footing with that of the greatest
modern states. To and from Britain or Gambia and Senegal
their galleys were for* ever rounding the pillars of Hercules on
the voyage out or the voyage home.

Xenophon, four centuries before the time of our Lord, pub-
lished a treatise, called " On Ways and Means," in which he sug-
gested methods for increasing the prosperity of his country. In
it we find suggestions of the same kind as those which have
won for the French " sophists and economists " the praise of
the salons and of all the well-bred people of England ; we find
more suggestions which after twenty-three centuries were useful
to the greatest law-reformers of England, Lord Brougham and
Lord Westbury.

Again, Plato in his Republic sketches in a way that no mod-
ern sociologist could surpass the fundamental laws of human
nature which make life in society a necessity for man. We do
not lay any stress on his clear realization of all that the most
recent economists have said concerning division of labor. For
the present we are endeavoring to show why the men of social

;68 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF SOCIETY. [Sept.,

science in our day may be reasonably asked to admit that there
were great men before Agamemnon.

Aristotle has been called the father of political economy;
we think he ought to be called the father of social science.
We need go no farther than the second book of his " Economics "
to explain our meaning. His division of economy into the four
kinds, regal, satrapical, political, and domestic, together with his
treatises on " Ethics " and " Politics," exhausts the whole of the
sociology of his day, of ours, and of all time to come. In the
regal economy we have the central authority of a supreme execu-
tive like that at Washington, a supreme legislature, and a su-
preme court of law ; in the satrapical, the economy of the indi-
vidual states in relation to themselves and to each other ; in the
third, which would be better rendered by politic than political,
we have' the whole social organism of this great country as a
free state giving life and strength to each part and preserving
its life and vigor by the functional vigor of the parts. But more
than this, Aristotle has not lost sight of the most important
factor in the social scheme, the family, which is the earliest
form of social life and the perpetual preserver of the state. In
his " Ethics " and " Politics " we have a still further contribution
to exact knowledge of society and its components the state
and the individuals who constitute it. Altogether it may be said
that this transcendent thinker has afforded, in the works just
mentioned, definitions which might be advantageously imitated
for their precision by modern writers on society, and copious
information which they can safely use, and, after their manner,
without acknowledgment.

As there is much in the work of our authors for which we
have only praise to offer, we shall take up this subject in a fu-
ture number. We confess that we followed them with great in-
terest ; but we conceive that it is our duty in reviewing a work
of this kind to hold the balance fairly between the dead past
and the present, and not to allow ourselves to be carried away
by specious commonplaces concerning modern methods or showy
platitudes which are presented as deep and original remarks in
order to justify new departures. When again we approach the
subject of sociology we shall be able, we trust, to say something
concerning the advantage which our authors' method will afford
when applied under conditions which we shall try to point out.

BANAGHER RHUE.

BY DORA SIGERSON.

ANAGHER RHUE of Donegal,
(Holy Mary, how slow the dawn !)
This is the hour of your loss or gain :
Is go d-tigheadh do, mhiiirnin slan !
Banagher Rhue, but the hour was ill
(O Mary Mother, how high the price !)
When you swore you'd game with Death himself ;
Aye, and win with the devil's dice.
Banagher Rhue, you must play with Death,
(Mary, watch with him till the light !)
Through the dark hours, for the words you said,
All this strange and noisy night.
Banagher Rhue, you are pale and cold ;
(How the demons laugh through the air !)
The anguish beads on your frowning brow ;
Mary set on your lips a prayer !
Banagher Rhue, you have won the toss :
(Mother, pray for his soul's release !)
Shuffle and deal ere the black cock crows,
That your spirit may find its peace.
Banagher Rhue, you have played a king ;
(How strange the lights on your fingers fall !)
A voice, " I was cold, and he sheltered me . .
The trick is yours, but the chance is small.
Banagher Rhue, now an ace is yours ;
(Mother Mary, the night is long !)
" I was a sin that he hurried aside . . ."
O for the dawn and the blackbird's song !
Banagher Rhue, now a ten of suit ;
(Mother Mary, what hot winds blow !)
" Nine little lives hath he saved in his path . .
Alas ! the black cock does not crow.
Banagher Rhue, you have played a knave ;
(O what strange gates on their hinges groan !)
" I was a friend who had wrought him ill ;
When I had fallen, he cast no stone . . ."
Banagher Rhue, now a queen has won !
(The black cock crows with the flash of dawn.)
And she is the woman who prays for you :
"Is go d-tigheadh do, mhiiirnin slan / " *

*" May my darling come through safely ! ' "
VOL. LXI. 49

AS REBUILT BY SlR CHRISTOPHER WREN.

WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH

ACTOR.

BY PATRICK SARSFIELD CASSIDY.

not the first comedian of Irish birth
to adorn and enliven the London stage, John
Moody was the first to give creditable and truth-
ful presentation of Irish character, and to show
to London audiences that there were gentlemen
of polished wit and manners in Ireland as well as blundering
bog-trotters. Moody was a specialist in Irish character, true to
life, and in this respect differed from his predecessors, Doggett
and Wilkes, both natives of Dublin, and jwho flourished con-
temporaneously at Drury Lane in the infant years of the
eighteenth century, and held proprietary interests in that estab-
lishment. This was what might be called the third era of
Drury Lane, the first being its cockpit days before its destruc-
tion by a Puritan mob, and the second that in which such
names as those of Sir William Davenant, the famous Killigrew,
Dryden, Sir Christopher Wren who rebuilt the theatre in
1671-2 after its destruction by fire Otway, Lee, Wycherley,
Congreve, and Farquhar, are associated with its history. The
building pictured in the accompanying illustration was that
erected by Sir Christopher Wren.

The old dramatic chronicles speak of Doggett as a comedian
of great merit, possessing the happy art of arriving at the per-
fectly ridiculous without exceeding the bounds of nature or
violating the possibilities, and whose manners, always original

1895.] WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. 771

and never borrowed, frequently served as a model for many
who came after, while the propriety with which he dressed his
characters gave double force to his humor. But his characters
were general men of the world and of society and not
special representatives of any race or nation. And the same
was the case with Wilkes, freely acknowledged to be the most
polished light comedian of his day.

Speaking of Wilkes, it will not be without interest to remark
that the intimate friendship] between him and the original
Booth in those days resulted, among other things, in giving to
American history in our own times a name that can never die
that of John Wilkes Booth.

Besides Moody and Wilkes, there were Mossop, Spranger
Barry, Woodward, Lewis, Ryder, Thomas Sheridan (father of
Richard Brinsley), Mrs. Abington, O'Brien, the celebrated " Lord
Trinket " and " Toffington," who wedded Lady Strangways,
Charles Macklin (originally McLaughlin), who changed the char-
acter of Shylock from what it had been to what it has been
since and forced the poet Pope to exclaim :

"This is the Jew
That Shakspere drew ! "

Ireland during more than half of the eighteenth century
was a school for dramatic training. Dublin then contained the
material to sustain the drama. It was not only a garrison city
and the seat of the native national parliament, but was crowded
with the aristocracy of England as well as of Ireland. Nearly
every household establishment of any pretensions had its pri-
vate theatre, like that of Lady Burrowes, where Tom Moore,
the future poet, appeared in character at the age of fourteen.
And the provincial cities and towns copied Dublin in this
respect ; all had their amateur dramatic companies. It was at
an amateur company's performance on a private stage in Kil-
kenny that Moore met his wife, the beautiful Bessie Dyke.
Smock Alley in Dublin witnessed the debut of many a young
aspirant for histrionic fame who won laurels and renown after-
wards even on the Drury Lane stage, under the management
of the imperious Garrkk, " the English Roscius."

But it is with Moody individually I have principally to do,
and only incidentally with the times in which he strutted his
little hour upon the stage.

Moody, the Irish comedian who made an English prime
minister, was born in the city of Cork, where his father fol-

772 WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. [Sept.,

lowed the respectable though humble profession of hair-dresser,
and in his leisure hours cultivated nature in the form of vege-
tables and flowers, from the sale of which he considerably aug-
mented his income. Young Moody, whose real name was
Cochrane, was trained up in the business of his father, and was
expected by the father to maintain the reputation of the house
for artistic hair-dressing and the production of excellent escu-
lents when he, the father, had gone

" beyond the sun, and the bath
Of all the western stars."

But the young man had a soul above cabbages a mind
above the making of periwigs and toupees. The dramatic fever,

then so prevalent caught him,
and he decided to follow the
course of his townsman, Dr. Far-
ren, who from being an indiffer-
ent setter of broken limbs and
collar-bones in Cork, became a
famous actor, and trained up and
gave to the stage one of the most
accomplished actresses of any
country or age, Miss Betsy Far-
ren, the incomparable Miss Hard-
castle in the comedy of " She
Stoops to Conquer," and who her-
self became Countess of Derby,
the most lovely woman of her
time.

The more this idea germinat-
ed in the active and ambitious
brain of young Cochrane, the
more dissatisfied he became with
the dull business of hair-dress-
ing and vegetable-raising. His

ambition demanded that he be " a gentleman actor." One fine
summer morning, when all the birds were singing along the
banks of

" The pleasant waters of the river Lee,"

he quitted Cork and went in search of some strolling company
of players who would take him in. He found one, and then
he dutifully sat down and wrote to his father of his exalted

*From a picture published by Harrison &*Co. /April, 1779.

MOODY AS TEAGUE.

Upon my soul, I believe he's dead."
The Committee, act iv. sc. i.*

1 895.] WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. 773

position. The parent was proud, as all artistic hair-dressers
were in those days, and he had the honored name of Cochrane
to preserve from disgrace. Among the class to which Mr.
Cochrane, senior, belonged the professional actor was looked
upon as an idle, good-for-nothing fellow, if not an abandoned
profligate. It was the time of the old story
"Mother! Mother! the players are coming!"
" Lord a-mercy, child, run and take in the clothes ! "
Mr. Cochrane sat down and penned a pompous and severe
reply to his son's exuberant letter of delight at his success,
telling him that he had cast a stain upon the honest and
honorable name and family of Cochrane, and if he ever hoped
for forgiveness he should change his name instantly. The son
respected the old man's pride and prejudice and adopted the
name of Moody, under which he acted leading characters in
the cities and towns all over Ireland with great success. He
had even gained the stamp of Dublin approval, and then there
was nothing more for him to conquer in Ireland. He longed
for adventure and wider fame. The stories then afloat of the
teeming wealth of the Indies fascinated his imagination, and at
Galway he set sail for Jamaica. He landed at Kingston finan-
cially stranded, only to find there was not a theatre in the
place. But he was undismayed. That hope which springs eter-
nal in the human breast finds its highest flights in the Irish-
man's, and the Celtic buoyancy of temperament and light-
heartedness stood him in good stead, as it has done many a
time and oft with the exiles of Erin. He soon made himself
known, for no genuine Irish exile ever repairs at twilight

" To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill ! "

Campbell was utterly wrong and did not know Irish charac
ter. A number of wealthy gentlemen fitted up a stage for him,
and Moody became a full-fledged actor-manager all at once ;
thus snatching fortune out of adversity instead of wandering off
alone to the beach to weep to the waves and allow the dew to
fall heavy and chill on his thin jacket, as Mr. Campbell would
have him do.

In making his dtbut to the Jamaicans Moody took the
character of Richard III., and at once established for himself a
great reputation. The people became enthusiastic over him,
and a few nights later gave him a benefit which realized a large
sum of money in those days ; and, to induce him to remain with
them, presented him with a section of land on which to settle

774 WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. [Sept.,

down as a planter. But it was here as in Ireland. He came,
he saw, he conquered, and although prosperous and admired,
the restless spirit of adventure became too strong to be checked.
His longing and ambition were to try his fortune in London,
and, dramatically, conquer the metropolitan stage. Notwith-
standing his refusal to stay with them, the Jamaicans gave him
a farewell benefit which produced an overflowing house and a
heavy purse.

To quit an island where all were his friends, and he pros-
perous and honored, for the desperate chances on the London
boards was not an act of prudence, but was personally and,
perhaps, nationally characteristic. Arrived in London, he boldly
sought an audience with Garrick, "the English Roscius," as
he loved to call himself, the greatest man of that or any
other age, in his own estimation. Moody procured the inter-
view and asked for a dtbut at the Drury Lane theatre.

" What character would you like to appear in ? " asked
Garrick.

"Richard is my favorite character," promptly responded
Moody undauntedly.

" Indeed ! " exclaimed the English Roscius, piercing the
applicant with that terrible eye of his, which Lady Cook says
" could bore a hole in a plank." " Pray, sir, are you not aware
that I am the established arid only Richard of the town?"

"Oh, yes, sir ! " responded Moody blandly ; " but why not
have two Richards in the field?"

" My dear sir," said Garrick, struck by Moody's boldness
and self-confidence, " I have conceived a good opinion of you,
and wish to make you a friendly offer. ' Richard III.' is to be
played next Monday ; the Lieutenant of the Tower is at your
service, at a salary of i per week. Are you willing to accept
the terms?"

"With pleasure," replied Moody, trying to adopt the voice
of a Yorkshireman, fearing he would not be acceptable if
known to be Irish. But Garrick could easily detect the Mun-
ster brogue, and put him down in his mind as a genuine son of
the shamrock sod. Nor was the small salary of i per week
because of that discovery. Garrick, like most actor-managers then
and since, was a miserly paymaster as well as a jealous employer,
who sought to thrust back and crush men who might become
rivals. Garrick notoriously did this with Mossop, Macklin,
Henderson, and Thomas Sheridan. He paid great actors only
.5 a week, and really good ones only a paltry i weekly, at

1 895.] WHA T GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. 775

Drury Lane, while Sheridan, his successor, paid 4. as the
lowest and proportionately up to 40. Garrick held that the
honor of playing under him was a great compensation in itself.
This is charmingly illustrated in an interview with John Palmer.
The latter got an engagement at Drury Lane, and Garrick told
him to leave the matter of salary to him. At the end of the
week the business manager offered him i $s. Palmer had had
two offers of 3 per week one at Covent Garden and the
other in Dublin. He declined the money and sought Garrick
for an explanation.
"With me," said " Ros-
cius," " you can calcu-
late on a term suffi-
ciently long for you to
establish a name and
fame that will not only
stand as long as you
live, but even after you
are dead will be of use
to you in having you
mentioned in connec-
tion with the English
1 Roscius.' '

" Dear sir," replied
Palmer, " I am not anx-
ious about posthumous
fame. I want the
means of enjoying this
life. I have a wife
to maintain, a woman
brought up in respect-
ability in fact, a
lady."

"Ay!" cried Gar-
rick, " there is the evil
of marrying a lady.
What does a poor man want with a woman who is unable to
mend, wash, cook, and rub and scrub ? " He, however, promised
Palmer an increase, and he gave it five shillings !

But Garrick did not place his players so much in the posi-
tion of domestic retainers as did his predecessor, Davenant,
who boarded his actresses in Lincoln's Inn Fields ; and even this
was much better than the position of the dramatic writers and

776 WMAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. [Sept.,

authors of those days, who were the mere scrubs of the book-
sellers, and had reason to thank their stars when they got a
good meal, while Davenant fed his dependents exquisitely, and
even honored their caprices with rosa-solis and ^isquebaugh.

But this is a digression excusable, I hope, because of the
gossipy spirit in which I write, and the incidents brought in
throw some side light on the commercial value of talent in times
that we are invited to look back on as golden in the fields of
literature and the drama. But, however mean, vain, and jealous
Garrick may have been, his memory must ever be respected for
his interesting and successful efforts to restore the Elizabethan
drama and especially Shakspere to the stage. The Restora-
tion period of the drama a brilliant one closed with the
death of Queen Anne, August I, 1714, as did also the Augustan
age of English literature. During the following twenty-five
years the drama sunk to a very low ebb, and low indeed
was its condition when Garrick undertook to reform the theatre
and revive Shakspere. He made his own famous dtbut at
Goodman's Fields, London, as Richard, and won fame on five
pounds a week.

Moody's dtbut as the Lieutenant of the Tower was a success,
and although such old and able men as Thomas Sheridan and
Henderson were forced to give dramatic readings in Hickford's
great room on Brewer Street, he was able to command engage-
ments fairly well paid.

Through Moody's persuasion Cumberland's comedy of " The
West Indian " was put on the stage for the first time at Drury
Lane, with Moody in the character of Major O'Flaherty a
type of the fine old officer of the Irish Brigade. This well,
truthfully, and creditably drawn character gave Moody the op-
portunity he desired, and he seized it with brilliant effect. This
was perhaps the first genuine type of an Irish gentleman ever
seen on the London boards. All up till that time had been
miserable caricatures of the bog-trotter, performed by low come-
dians who exaggerated and invented vulgarities of speech and
action while possessing none of the most common Irishman's
wit, sprightliness, and natural finesse. Moody showed London
that there were Irishmen other than the bog-trotter, and he
took pride in doing it. In the cast of the West Indian with
Moody was another adventurous and romantic Irishman who
had a past. This was Frank Aickin, a native of Dublin, who
had made a successful de'but at the Smock Alley Theatre, and
then ran off with an heiress who had fallen in love with his

1 895.] WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. 777

handsome person and pronounced talents. Aickin played Stock-
well, the merchant.

Among the other Irish characters that Moody made famous
on the London stage were Sir Callaghan O'Brallaghan, in Mack-
lin's sparkling farce of " Love a la Mode "; Captain O'Cutter, in
the elder Colman's " Jealous Wife "; and Teague, the faithful
Irishman, in the comedy of " The Committee," which was after-
wards altered into " The Honest Thieves." All these characters
were true to life and creditable to the race they represented.
Moody was too much of an Irishman himself to burlesque Irish
character, and his talents were far above the range of the
men who mangled and vulgarized even the poor bog-trotter.
And here, parenthetically, surprise may be expressed that the
early Cockney conception of an Irishman still sticks to the stage.
Even in America, where so much Irish blood and brains per-
meates the people, there never has been a decent Irish play
produced. All have been mere copies or variants of the early
vulgar burlesques. This speaks very poorly for the advance of
dramatic literature and the stage, which seems devoid of preg-
nant force and originality. Will not some one give us a good
Irish play to break the dreary monotony of vulgarity and im-
becility ?

While Moody was at Drury Lane he made the acquaintance
of Reddish, a tragedian of talent, but a man of most irregular
habits and bad character, which he disguised under the most
fascinating manners, and who had acquired some notoriety for
acting the villain on the stage and still more for acting the pro-
fligate in real life. He also made the acquaintance of Mrs.
Canning, the widowed mother of George Canning, the future
prime minister of England. The three played in the same cast.
Mrs. Canning must have heard the evil stories that were rife
about Reddish ; but she married him notwithstanding, for the
ways of the sex are beyond comprehension in such matters.
This queer union caused much gossip in dramatic and literary
circles, as the lady's deceased husband had gained some reputa-
tion in literature. When, subsequently, Reddish and his latest
wife Mrs. Canning appeared at Bristol, Hannah More she of
" The old Armchair " wrote to Garrick : " This is the second
or third wife he has produced at Bristol in a short time. We
have had a whole bunch of Reddishes, and all remarkably un-
pungent." One of Reddish's previous wives was a Miss Hart,
who appeared at Drury Lane in 1767, and who in addition to
the salary enjoyed an income of 200 a year from a question-

WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. [Sept.,

able source. But money, however obtained, had always the
strongest temptation for Reddish. He wooed and married Miss
Hart in less than ten weeks, and in as short a period induced
her to sell her annuity ; then squandered the proceeds as rapidly,
and this done, abandoned her. Churchill celebrated this Miss
Hart in " The Rosciad " :

" Happy in this, behold, amid the throng,
Witn transient gleam of grace Hart sweeps along."

George, true deceased husband of Mrs. Canning, was the dis-
inherited heir to the estate and baronetcy of Garvagh, in the
County Londonderry, Ireland. The original Canning of Gar-
vagh was a " planter " that is, the estate was given to him by
James I. in 1618, after the rightful Irish owner had been driven
from it, perhaps shot or hanged, for alleged treason or on some
trumped-up charge in the days when James " planted " the pro-
vince of Ulster with English and Scotch settlers adventurers
and soldiers of fortune. Bell, in his Life of Canning, tells of
this event with more honesty than a vast majority of English
writers. "This grant/' he says, " was one of those violent ap-
propriations of land in that country which, under the pretext
of defective titles, or/ other legal quibbles, industriously supplied
by the attorney-general of that day, formed so conspicuous a
feature of the management of Irish affairs throughout that
memorable reign."

The disinherited heir went to London and sought to prepare
himself for the bar while earning a living as a bookseller's
hack; but he had a wretchedly hard time of it, and would, no
doubt, have been often reduced to starvation only for the
annuity allowed him of 150, which, while only a wretched pit-
tance, helped to meet desperate emergencies. At the age of
thirty-eight he wrote some verses which show that he was utterly
broken in spirit, regarding his career as ended, and that the
ditch of despair was only left for him to fall into and die.
However, he did not die, but fell in love, which perhaps was
the next thing to it. The object of his passion was Miss Mary
Ann Costello, whose father rilled insignificant parts at Drury
Lane and Covent Garden. On the play-bill of the latter theatre
for August 9, 1766, he is down for the second grave-digger in
" Hamlet." For Canning to burden himself with a wife, in his
precarious circumstances, was the acme of imprudence. The
pair went through all the grades of want and misery until Can-
ning's pride and manhood were utterly broken, and he wrote a

1895.] WHA T GEORGE CANNING o WED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. 779

pitiful appeal to his father to have some mercy upon him and
send him aid. The father did offer aid, but on the humiliating
condition that he agree to cut off the entail of the estate, thus
renouncing for ever his legal rights as heir-at-law. And the
broken-down and despairing man consented.

In the midst of pecuniary distress and overwhelming troubles
the future prime minister was born, April 11, 1770. "He
would," says Bell, "be a brave prophet who would have pre-
dicted that a child of such affliction should one day be prime
minister of England." The wretched father died a year or so

THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE CANNING.

later amidst the most abject squalor, and with his death the
annuity of 150 reverted to the Garvagh family, leaving the
widow and infant son utterly destitute.

Through the intercession of some friends at court, Queen
Charlotte intimated to Garrick that he give Mrs. Canning an
engagement, which was done. On the night of the lady's dtbut
as Jane Shore, Garrick, in the hope of royal patronage, appeared
himself in the part of Hastings, which he long before had re-

780 WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. [Sept.,

linquished. But no royal patronage came, and Garrick, who
never stood on ceremony on such occasions, finding Mrs. Can-
ning forsaken by the court, made no scruple in reducing her at
once to a lower position. This was the situation when she
married the reprobate Reddish, who, as manager, took her on
a tour of the provinces.

The childhood of the future prime minister was a most
wretched one, passed as it was under the unauspicious guardian-
ship of Reddish, whose disorderly habits precluded the possibility
of moral or intellectual training. The profligacy of his life com-
municated its tone to his household, and even the material neces-
sities of his family were frequently neglected to feed his excesses
elsewhere. It was from such a prevailing condition and the
corresponding fate that seemed inevitable that Moody resolved
to rescue the lad, in whom he had taken a warm-hearted inter-
est and in whose mental sprightliness he discerned evidences of
talent which, properly attended to, should lead to a bright and
successful career. To remain in the Reddish home meant inevi-
table ruin. Moody actually worried over the situation in which
the boy was placed, but could himself do nothing to change it.
He knew that the feeling in the Canni-ng family against the
disinherited, although dead, heir was still bitter. In fact the
marriage of Canning to Mary Ann Costello, daughter of Drury
Lane's second grave-digger, had clinched the nail in the door
and closed it irrevocably against the outcast. With her child
they would have nothing whatever to do especially as she had
still further disgraced the name by marrying the disreputable
Reddish. Moody knew the boy had an uncle, Mr. Stratford
Canning, a rich London merchant ; but there had been no com-
munication between the brothers from the day of George's dis-
inheritance. The prosperous merchant scornfully ignored the ex-
istence of the black sheep the bookseller's hack. Thus the pros-
pect of inducing the family to do anything for the lad was
black as midnight with the blackest doubt. They did not even
leave him his father's paltry annuity of 150. They had refused
to acknowledge Mary Ann Costello's child as of their blood
and name.

Moody, after brooding over the matter for many weeks, saw
that the prospect of help from the family, although dark and
discouraging, was the only one there was to try. Fortifying
himself with reasons and arguments and, as a contemporary
tells us, saying a prayer for the success of his mission, " Moody
made a journey into the city " to see Mr. Canning, the uncle.

1 895 .] WHA T GEORGE CANNING o WED TO AN IRISH A CTOR. 78 1

Moody's proposition to Mr. Canning was spurned with anger
and he himself referred to as an impertinent intermeddler ; but
Moody was so absorbed in his purpose that he could overlook
rebuffs and personal indignities. He continued to plead the
boy's cause with that impressive force and natural eloquence
which spring from deep earnestness. He spoke of the ties of
blood that are stronger than all human laws or rules of social
inequality, because they are the laws of nature herself. He
showed that if the father had transgressed against the pride
and dignity of the family he had suffered severely for it, and
his offence should not be visited on the innocent child. He
spoke of the boy's brightness his wonderful promise, if prop-
erly trained and prophesied, with the confidence that attends
conviction, that the lad would yet cast such honor on the name
as it had never known, while on the other hand if he were not
rescued from his surroundings, a still deeper disgrace was cer-
tain to come upon the name he bore.

Such an appeal could not fail to make an impression on the
most stubborn human nature, and the interview came to a
close by Mr. Canning giving consent that Moody bring the boy
that he might see him. Moody felt that he had won the vic-
tory. His own affection for the boy was such that he could
not imagine any one else seeing him without liking him. Next
morning Moody, accompanied by his prote'gt, made another
" journey into the city," but this time with peace and joy in
his breast instead of anxiety and fear. Mr. Canning took to
the boy and adopted him, placing him at school and securing
to him the training that made his remarkable career possible.
Live history tells that career down to his early death at
Chiswick, August 8, 1827, and his biographers point out as a
creditable trait that he never forgot his mother, but wrote to
her once a week and settled a comfortable income upon her.

On the evening of January 25, 1769, an event of a decidedly
sensational nature took place at Drury Lane, and the conduct
of Moody on the occasion was such as to greatly endear him
to Garrick. This event was the riot by a mob of young bloods
ambitiously calling themselves The Town, and undertaking to
dictate prices at the theatres. On the evening in question the
play was the " Two Gentlemen of Verona," and as soon as the
performers appeared on the stage the mob began a series of
interruptions and howls which brought out Garrick himself to
ascertain the cause of the trouble. He attempted to speak, but
his voice was completely drowned by the uproar. The ladies

782 WHAT GEORGE CANNING OWED TO AN IRISH ACTOR. [Sept.,

in the audience disappeared as quickly as possible, and in fact
in a very few minutes the mob had the theatre to themselves.
Benches were torn up, the glass lustres thrown upon the stage,
and total wreck seemed imminent. Moody considered it his
duty to protect the property of his employer and he proceeded
to do all he could to save the theatre from destruction. He
did succeed in rendering a few of the rioters hors de combat, and
then grappled with one who had a lighted torch and seemed
bent on setting fire to the place. After this a truce and parley
resulted in Garrick giving his promise to make the admission
half price after the third act of a play, except in the case of
new plays on their first run. This settled, the mob demanded
that Moody appear and apologize. Moody appeared, and with
his ever exuberant wit assured them he "was very sorry he
had displeased them by saving their lives in putting out the
fire." The mob took this as an insult and howled savagely,
demanding that the offending actor go down on his knees on
the stage and beg their pardon. Moody refused and left the
stage, and Garrick was so pleased that he received him with
open arms and assured him that while he was master of a guinea
he should be paid his salary whether he acted or not, while if
he had been so mean as to submit to the required abasement he
would never have forgiven him. So great was the wrath of the
mob against Moody that Garrick had to promise them the offend-
ing comedian would not appear again while under the ban of
their displeasure. Moody did not take kindly to this enforced
idleness, although he was allowed to draw his salary, and he
boldly called on Fitzgerald, the ringleader of The Town, and
demanded that he sign a paper very humiliating in its terms to
a man of spirit. Fitzgerald refused ; but Moody was determined,
and after some very emphatic threats Fitzgerald said he would
do an act that would be as beneficial in restoring Moody to the
good graces of The Town. He then wrote a letter to Garrick
stating that if Moody would resume his place on the stage he
and his friends would attend the theatre on the occasion as a
token of respect and would give all the assistance in their
power to rehabilitate Moody in popularity with the bloods.

This arrangement was carried out, but Moody never recov-
ered the popularity of former days, or attained that faultless-
ness in his manner of performing Irish characters which had in
earlier years drawn from Churchill a remarkable eulogium in
" The Rosciad " a tribute which Moody always considered as
his passport to the temple of fame.

1895-] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. 783

CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY.

BY THOMAS O'HAGAN, M.A., PH.D.

ANADA has a goodly number of inspired singers
whose strong, fresh notes in the academic groves
of song are steadily winning the ear and heart of
an increasing multitude. These chanters of Cana-
dian lays, these prophets of the people, sing in
various keys some catching up in their song the glory and
spirit of the world without, some weaving in ballad a recital
of the bold adventures and heroic achievements of the early
missionary explorer and pioneer, while others with heart and lips
of fire are stirring in the national breast of " Young Canada "
fairer visions and dreams of patriotism and promise. The note
of all these singers is individual indigenous. Their songs are
racy of the soil, charged with the very life-blood of the people
the flowering of more than three centuries of daring deed,
noble toil, generous suffering, and high emprise.

Nor is there anything of pessimism in Canadian poetry. It
is full-blooded, hearty, healthy, and hopeful in its tone. The
Canadian pioneer who entered the virgin forest in the twilight
days of civilization brought with him a stout and resolute heart
ready to front every danger and bear up under every depriva-
tion and loss.

This lineage of courage is manifest in Canadian song. Alex-
ander MacLachlan, who is justly called the Burns of Canada,
breathes it into his tender and melodious lines. This venerable
poet, now in his seventy-sixth year, experienced in his early
days life in the backwoods of Canada, and many of his finest
lyrics find their root of inspiration in scenes and incidents pecu-
liar to roughing it in the woods. It is not to be wondered at,
then, that the heroism of our fathers in the forest give soil to
a spirit of heroism in Canadian poetry, and that the wholesome
virtues of honesty, uprightness, industry, and good cheer find
reflection in the life interpretation of our people.

The links that bind in song the Canadian poets of to-day
with the old and honored choir that chanted in the dawn of
Canadian life and letters are, year by year, breaking and disap-
pearing. Pierre Chauveau, universally recognized as the doyen

7 8 4 CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. [Sept.,

of French-Canadian literature ; Charles Sangster, the Canadian
Wordsworth in his love and reverence of nature ; Charles Heavy
sege, whose great scriptural tragedy " Saul " was considered by
Longfellow to be "the best tragedy written since the days of
Shakspere "; and Louisa Murray, the author of " Merlin's Cave,"
a poem characterized by great beauty of thought and diction
all these have heard within a few years the whisperings of
death and have stolen away.

The younger Canadian poets of to-day revere those names
as the pioneers of Canadian letters song-birds of the dawn
minstrels whose harps cheered the patriot firesides of the early
Canadian settler. They had for contemporaries in American
poetry Bryant, Longfellow, Lowell, Whittier, and Holmes ; but
the labor of their achievement as first colonizers of literature in
Canada entitles them to be ranked rather as contemporaries of
Irving, Willis, Halleck, and Poe.

Now as to the spirit and methods of the older and younger
schools of Canadian poetry. Scholarship, refinement, a keen
appreciation of the artistic with a certain boldness of wing,
mark the performances of the Canadian singer of to-day. He
puts into his workmanship more of Keats and Tennyson and
Swinburne, but less of Scott and Wordsworth and Burns, than
did the poets of the older school. He has drank copiously
from classical fountains from the clear streams of Theocritus,
and Moschus, and the other idyllic and nature-loving poets of
Greece. He pitches his song in a higher and less homely key
than did his elder brothers of the lyre ; sings of nature in
round and graceful notes, and, laying his ear to the heart of his
country, reads the throbbing promise of her future in the
glorious light of her eyes. Broadly and deeply sympathetic, he
has but one altar in his heart, and this is dedicated to the
service of his native land. The Imperial note in his song,
which is but a grace note, marks the ties of love and reverence
which bind him to the motherland the Canadian note, strong
and full, the patriotic service of chivalrous knighthood demanded
of him at the sacred shrine of Duty and Country. Prophet that
he is, he sees that the spirit of national development in Canada
must go on that it is widening and deepening that the aspira-
tions of this land of "the true North" have their roots down
deep in the life-blood of a people with well-nigh three cen-
turies of conquest and triumph lighting up the history of their
past. This he feels to be the gospel of the throbbing hour,
this he knows to be the burden of the people's hopes. And

CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY.

785

so the dominant note in the songs of the Canadian poets of to-
day is one of ardent pa-
triotism.

At the head of this
young and promising band
of singers may be justly
placed Charles G. D. Rob-
erts, the author of three
volumes of verse each pack-
ed full of rich poetic thought.
Roberts has also written the
best patriotic poem, " Can-

ada," that has yet been pro-
duced in this country, while
the general character of his
workmanship is of such high
order as to gain for him a
large audience on both sides
of the Atlantic. Roberts is
a virile writer, and possesses
in an eminent degree that
even wedding of thought
and language so essential to

ALEXANDER MACLACHLAN, EVAN MACCOLL,

F. G. SCOTT.
VOL. LXI. 50

7 86 CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. [Sept.,

the production of a first-rate poem. A little more simplicity and
directness and an abandonment of classical form and method in
his verse would make Roberts more popular with the common
people. Here is one of his poems which well illustrates the
patriotic note in his verse. It is entitled "An Ode for the
Canadian Confederacy " :

" Awake, my country : the hour is great with change !

Under this gloom which yet obscures the land,
From ice-blue strait and stern Laurentian range

To where giant peaks our western bounds command,
A deep voice stirs vibrating in men's ears

As if their own hearts throbbed that thunder forth,
A sound wherein who hearkens wisely hears
The voice of the desire of this strong North
This North whose heart of fire
Yet knows not its desire

Clearly, but dreams, and murmurs in the dream.
The hour of dream is done. Lo, on the hills the gleam !

Awake, my country: the hour of dreams is done !

Doubt not, nor dread the greatness of thy fate.
Tho' faint souls fear the keen, confronting sun,

And fain would bid the morn of splendor wait ;
Tho' dreamers, rapt in starry visions, cry,

" Lo, yon thy future, yon thy faith, thy fame ! "
And stretch vain hands to stars, thy fame is nigh,

Here in Canadian hearth, and home, and name
This name which yet shall grow
Till all the nations know
Us for a patriot people, heart and hand
Loyal to our native earth our own Canadian land !

O strong hearts, guarding the birthright of our glory,

Worth your best blood this heritage that ye guard 1
Those mighty streams resplendent with our story,

Those iron coasts by rage of seas unjarred
What fields of peace these bulwarks well secure !

What vales of plenty those calm floods supply !
Shall not our love this rough, sweet land make sure,

Her bounds preserve inviolate, though we die ?
O strong hearts of the North !
Let flame your loyalty forth,

l8 95-] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. 787

And put the craven and base to an open shame,

Till earth shall know the Child of Nations by her name ! "

One of the most original and bold daring in his flights of
song among the younger Canadian poets of to-day is William
Wilfrid Campbell, best known as "The Poet of the Lakes."
Campbell has a keen sense of color and form, and many of his
lake lyrics catch up and embody in their lines the spirit of
ever-changing hues, subtle and weird, that broods over the
breasts of our great Canadian lakes. It was not, however, the
lake lyrics which brought Campbell most renown, but a unique
poem entitled " The Mother," which first appeared in a New
York magazine in the spring of 1891. This poem was counted
by capable critics as one of the cleverest things in verse that
had appeared from an American pen for a great many years.
Campbell has at times a great deal of strength, and resources
of melody which might well be matched against the best music
of Shelley or Swinburne. There is, however, a lack of spiritual
throb divine immanence in the poetry of Campbell, and unless
he puts into his lines more of the light of Heaven, his best
gifts, like those of Swinburne, will achieve no lasting fame.
Nature is indeed very fair to worship, but nature when shut off
from Heaven becomes a very poor thing.

The following poem, taken from " Lake Lyrics," will give
the reader a hint as to the spirit and method of Campbell's
work. It is entitled " Manitou," which is the largest island in
Lake Huron, believed by the Indians to be sacred to Manitou
when he makes his abode on earth. I never read this poem
that its melody and manner do not call up at once Swinburne's
" Forsaken Garden " :

" Girdled by Huron's throbbing and thunder,

Out on the drift and rift of its blue ;
Walled by mists from the world asunder,
Far from all hate and passion and wonder,
Lieth the isle of the Manitou.

Here, where the surfs of the great Lake trample

Thundering time-worn caverns through,
Beating on rock-coasts aged and ample,
Reareth the Manitou's mist-walled temple,

Floored with forest and roofed with blue.

788 CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. [Sept.,

Gray crag-battlements, seared and broken,

Keep these passes for ages to come ;
Never a watchword here is spoken,
Never a single sign or token,

From hands that are motionless, lips that are dumb.

Only the Sun-god rideth over,

Marking the seasons with track of flame ;

Only the wild-fowl float and hover,

Flocks of clouds whose white wings cover
Spaces on spaces without a name.

Stretches of marsh and wild lake meadow,
Beaches that bend to the edge of the world ;

Morn and even, suntime and shadow ;

Wild flame of sunset over far meadow,

Fleets of white vapors sun-kissed and furled.

Year by year the ages onward

Drift, but it lieth out here alone;
Earthward the mists, and the earth-mists sunward ;
Starward the days, and the nights bloom dawnward,

Whisper the forests, the beaches make moan.

Far from the world, and its passions fleeting,

'Neath quiet of noonday and stillness of star,
Shore unto shore each sendeth greeting,
Where the only woe is the surf's wild beating
That throbs from the maddened lake afar."

I would like to quote from Campbell's second volume "The
Dread Voyage " to exhibit the growing strength of his genius,
for such poems as " The Mother " and " Pan the Fallen," as
well as the title poem, are away in advance of his first work.
Campbell's latest effort is in the dramatic line, being a book of
tragedies entitled " Mordred " and " Hildebrand." On the whole
" The Poet of the Lakes " has done very superior work, and if
he will but dip his pen more in the sunlight of Heaven, I know
of no other Canadian poet who has within him the possibilities
of greater literary achievement.

Archibald Lampman has as yet published but one book of
poems " Among the Millet " but the quality of this volume is
such that immediately on its publication, in 1888, it secured for

1895.]

CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY.

789

the author a pre-eminence among the younger poets of Canada.

Lampman is an artist in every
sense of the word, and as you
read his polished productions
you feel sure that he has made
Tennyson his master. I do not
know how long it takes the
author of " Among the Millet "
to give a setting to one of his
gems of thought in the workshop
of his mind, but I feel secure in
saying that it must be the labor
of weeks, not days. Like his
master, Tenny-
son, he owes
much of his ex-
cellence to his
keen sense and
exquisite enjoy-
ment of every
species of beau-
ty. His is a
finely-tuned or-
ganization ca-

pable of being
touched by the
most delicate
shades and

tones of exter-
nal nature. If
Lampman has
any marked
fault it is the
tendency to
dwell too long
upon a given
note. This

tends to reveal in him too
much of the artist and not
enough of the poet. His
work, however, is conscien-
tious and his ideals high, and
it is doubtful if any other
Canadian poet has written so
many poems of such even ex-
cellence.

This extract from a poem

CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, ARCHIBALD LAMPMAN,
DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT.

790 CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. [Sept.,

entitled " Sebastian," which the author read at the last meeting
of the Royal Society of Canada, may give some insight into the
spirit and character of Lampman's workmanship :

"Outside the wide waste waters gleam. The sun

Beats hot upon the roofs, and close at hand

The heavy river o'er its fall of rocks

Roars down in foam and spouted spray, and pounds

Its bed with solid thunder. Far away

Stretch the gray glimmering booms that pen the logs,

Brown multitudes that from the northern waste

Have come by many a rushing stream, and now

The river shepherds with their spiked poles

Herd them in flocks, and drive them like blind sheep

Unto the slaughterer's hand. Here in the mills,

Dim and low-roofed, cool with the scent of pines

And gusts from off the windy cataracts,

All day the crash and clamor shake the floors.

The immense chains move slowly on. All day

The pitiless saws creep up the dripping logs

With champ and sullen roar; or round and shrill,

A glittering fury of invisible teeth,

Yell through the clacking boards. Sebastian turns

A moment's space, and through the great square door

Beholds as in a jarred and turbulent dream

The waste of logs and the long running crest

Of plunging water; farther still, beyond

The openings of the piered and buttressed bridge,

The rapid flashing into foam ; and last

Northward, far drawn, above the misty shore,

The pale blue cloud-line of the summer hills.

So stands Sebastian, and with quiet eyes,

Wrapt forehead, and lips manfully closed

Sees afar off, and through the heat and roar,

Beyond the jostling shadows and the throng,

Skirts the cool borders of an ampler world,

Decking the hour with visions. Yet his hands,

Grown sure and clock-like at their practised task,

Are not forgetful. Up the shaken slides

With splash and thunder come the groaning logs.

Sebastian grasps his cant-dog with light strength,

Drives into their dripping sides its iron fangs,

And one by one as with a giant's ease

Turns them and sets them toward the crashing saws.

1 895.] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. 791

So all day long and half the weary night

The mills roar on, the logs come shouldering in,

And the fierce light glares on the downward blades

And the huge logs and the wild crowd of men.

Through every hole and crack, through all the doors,

A stream upon the solid dark, it lights

The black, smooth races and the glimmering booms,

And turns the river's spouted spray to silver."

There are two Canadian poets who bear the name of Scott
Duncan Campbell and Frederick George. Both have done
good work, though the spirit and method of the two are quite
distinct. Duncan Campbell Scott has a delicate and refined
touch and a quaintness and fancy all his own. He never beats
out the ore of his thought too fine, but links jewel to jewel
with an artistic skill which gives surety of the highest form of
workmanship. He is very successful in French-Canadian
themes, and is seen at his best in such a poem as " At the
Cedars," which is a graphic picture of the dangers attending
rafting.

I will quote it in full and let the reader judge of its merits :

"You had two girls, Baptiste,
One is Virginie
Hold hard, Baptiste,
Listen to me.

The whole drive was jammed
In that bend at the Cedars ;
The rapids were dammed
With the logs tight rammed
And crammed ; you might know
The devil had clinched them below.

We worked three days not a budge !

" She's as tight as a wedge

On the ledge,"

Says our foreman.

" Mon Dieu ! boys, look here ;

We must get this thing clear."

He cursed at the men,

And we went for it then,

With our cant-dogs arow ;

CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. [Sept.,

We just gave "he ho he,"
When she gave a big shove
From above.

The gang yelled, and tore
For the shore ;]
The logs gave a grind,
Like a wolf's jaws behind,
And as quick as a flash,
With a shove and a crash,
They went down in a mash.
But I, and ten more,
All but Isaac Dufour,
Were ashore.

He leaped on a log in front of the rush,

And shot out from the bind,

While the jam roared behind ;

As he floated along

He balanced his pole,

And tossed us a song ;

But just as we cheered,

Up darted a log from the bottom,

Leaped thirty feet, fair and square,

And came down on his own.

He went up like a block,

With a shock;

And when he was there

In the air

Kissed his hand

To the land.

When he dropped

My heart stopped,

For the first logs had caught him,

And crushed him ;

When he rose in his place

There was blood on his face,

There were some girls, Baptiste,
Picking berries on the hill-side,
Where the river curls, Baptiste,
You know on the still side ;

l8 95] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. 793

One was down by the water ;
She saw Isaac
Fall back.

She didn't scream, Baptiste ;

She launched her canoe,

It did seem, Baptiste,

That she wanted to die too,

For before you could think

The birch cracked like a shell

In that rush of hell,

And I saw them both sink

Baptiste ! !

He had two girls,

One is Virginie ;

What God calls the other

Is not known to me."

Frederick George Scott is a poet of great spirituality, much
earnestness, sinewy strength, and a certain boldness of concep-
tion which borders at times on the sublime. His last published
volume, " My Lattice," contains a poem, " Samson," which has
brought its author much fame. The London Speaker, a high
literary authority, considers it the best American poem that has
been published for years.

In justice to the author I here give the poem as a whole,
feeling that no extract would properly and adequately repre-
sent its sublime spirit and character :

" Plunged in night I sit alone,
Eyeless, on this dungeon stone,
Naked, shaggy, and unkempt,
Dreaming dreams no soul hath dreamt.

Rats and vermin round my feet
Play unharmed, companions sweet ;
Spiders weave me overhead
Silken curtains for my bed.

Day by day the mould I smell
Of this fungus-blistered cell ;
Nightly in my haunted sleep
O'er my face the lizards creep.

794 CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. [Sept.,

Gyves of iron scrape and burn
Wrists and ankles when I turn,
And my collared neck is raw
With the teeth of brass that gnaw.

God of Israel, canst Thou see
All my fierce captivity?
Do Thy sinews feel my pains?
Hearest Thou the clanking chains ?

Thou who madest me so fair,
Strong and buoyant as the air,
Tall and noble as a tree,
With the passions of the sea ;

Swift as horse upon my feet,
Fierce as lion in my heat,
Rending like a wisp of hay
All that dared Withstand my way:

Canst Thou see me through the gloom
Of this subterranean tomb
Blinded tiger in his den,
Once the lord and prince of men?

Clay was I : the potter Thou
With Thy thumb-nail smooth'dst my brow,
Roll'dst the spittle-moistened sands
Into limbs between Thy hands.

Thou didst pour into my blood
Fury of the fire and flood,
And upon the boundless skies
Thou didst first unclose my eyes.

And my breath of life was flame,
God-like from the source it came,
Whirling round like furious wind,
Thoughts upgathered in the mind.

Strong Thou mad'st me, till at length
All my weakness was my strength ;
Tortured am I, blind a.nd wrecked
For a faulty architect.

1895.] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. 795

From the woman at my side
Was I, woman-like, to hide
What she asked me, as if fear
Could my iron heart come near.

Nay, I scorned and scorn again
Cowards who their tongues restrain ;
Cared I no more for Thy laws
Than a wind of scattered straws.

When the earth quaked at my name
And my blood was all aflame,
Who was I to lie and cheat
Her who clung about my feet ?

From Thy open nostrils blow
Wind and tempest, rain and snow ;
Dost Thou curse them on their course
For the fury of their force ?

Tortured am I, wracked and bowed,
But the soul within is proud ;
Dungeon fetters cannot still
Forces of the tameless will.

Israel's God, come down and see
All my fierce captivity ;
Let Thy sinews feel my pains,
With Thy fingers lift my chains.

Then with thunder loud and wild
Comfort Thou Thy rebel child,
And with lightning split in twain
Loveless heart and sightless brain.

Give me splendor in my death
Not this sickening dungeon breath,
Creeping down my blood like slime,
Till it wastes me in my prime.

Give me back for one blind hour
Half my former rage and power ;
And some giant crisis send,
Meet to prove a hero's end.

796

In the form
the names of
sege, Louis
Hunten-Duvar,
Mair hold the
honor. Heavy-
as I have before
tural tragedy,
as written by
are based upon
ical incidents,
compositions
works are of a
merit. Their
lence, however,
merit, as they

CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY.

Then, O God ! Thy mercy show-
Crush him in the overthrow
At whose life they scorn and point,
By its greatness out of joint.

of poetic composition known

[Sept.,

as the drama-
Charles Heavy
Frechette, John
and Charles
first places of
sege's " Saul,"
stated, is a scrip-
while the dram-
the other three
Canadian histor-
As dramatic
these four

high order of
literary excel-
is their sole
are only closet

W. W. CAMPBELL, BLISS CARMAN, J. W. BENGOUGH.

dramas and totally unfit for the stage.

I had almost forgotten the name of Bliss Carman, who is a
kinsman of Roberts, and is regarded by many to be the strong
est of our Canadian poets. I have always felt in reading

1 89 5.] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. 797

Carman's poems something of a Scandinavian influence at work.
This, of course, may be merely a fancy, as Carman has no kin-
ship by blood with the land of the Vikings. His best work is
marked by great strength, a restrained impetuosity, and an
imagination clear and impressive. It has been charged by
some critics that Carman's poems have about them a certain
obscurity, but it is just possible that this credited want of
clearness rests in the mind of the critic, not the author. One
thing is certain : that his poetry is not obscured by too many
words, but by too few ; and this is not a very bad fault in this
age of loose thought and idle verbiage.

Carman has written so much virile poetry that one is at a
loss to know what to quote to give the reader an idea of the
strength and gift of his pen. I have always regarded his poem
" Death in April " as the finest thing he has ever written. I
think some of Carman's most marked characteristics as a poet
are to be found in " Low Tide on Grand-PreV' Here it is :

" The sun goes down, and over all

These barren reaches by the tide
Such unelusive glories fall,

I almost dream they yet will bide

Until the coming of the tide.

And yet I know that not for us,
By any ecstasy of dream,

He lingers to keep luminous

A little while the grievous stream
Which frets, uncomforted of dream

A grievous stream, thus to and fro

Athrough the fields of Acadie
Goes wandering, as if to know

Why one beloved face should be

So long from home and Acadie !

Was it a year or lives ago

We took the grasses in our hands,

And caught the summer flying low
Over the waving meadow lands,
And held it there between our hands?

The while the river at our feet
A drowsy inland meadow stream

At set of sun the after-heat

Made running gold, and in the gleam
We freed our birch upon the stream.

798 CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. [Sept.,

There down along the elms at dusk

We lifted dripping blade to drift,
Through twilight scented fine like musk,

Where night and gloom awhile uplift,

Nor sunder soul and soul adrift.

And that we took into our hands-
Spirit of life or subtler thing-
Breathed on us there, and loosed the bands
Of death, and taught us, whispering,
The secret of some wonder-thing.

Then all your face grew light, and seemed
To hold the shadow of the sun ;

The evening faltered, and I deemed

That time was ripe, and years had done
Their wheeling underneath the sun.

So all desire and all regret,

And fear and memory were naught ;

One to remember or forget

The keen delight our hands had caught ;
Morrow and yesterday were naught !

The night has fallen and the tide
Now and again comes drifting home,

Across these aching barrens wide,
A sigh like driven wind or foam :
In grief the flood is bursting home."

In addition to Alexander MacLachlan, of whom I have
already spoken, there are two others of the older school of
poets links between the present and the past who are still
with us and whose pens have not yet been laid aside. They
are William Kirby, author of " Canadian Idylls," and John
Reade, one of the sweetest and truest singers in Canada.
Reade is a charming sonnet-writer, and in this department of
literary workmanship may be well classed with Richard Watson
Gilder and Maurice Francis Egan.

Then again, there is the Irish-Canadian note and the Scot-
tish-Canadian note in the poetry of our country. D'Arcy
McGee sang like an Irish linnet in exile under the fair skies of
Canada. His " Jacques Cartier" remains to-day one of the very
best ballads ever written in Canada. J. K. Foran, editor of

1 89 5.] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. 799

the Montreal True Witness, has recently published a volume of
poems which entitles him to rank among the best Irish-Cana-
dian poets. Many of his lyrics in fire and passion are worthy
of the poets of the Nation whose spirit and methods he most
closely follows.

A venerable and well-known form in the circle of Canadian
poets, and a member of the Royal Society of Canada, is the
Gaelic-English poet, Evan MacColl, the " Bard of Lochfyne."
MacColl's best work was done in Scotland, but since his arrival
in Canada he has found time to embalm in verse glints of the
beauty which reigns in the heart of Canadian scenery.

The dead speak not, and so the lyric hearts of Phillips
Stewart and George Frederick Cameron no longer charm us
with their strong, fresh notes. Both were full of promise, but,
like Shelley and Keats, died ere the morning of their years
had ripened into full noontide. Canadians will not, however,
willingly let die the memory of those two gifted and ardent
young souls. I cannot refer even passingly to each and all of
the Canadian writers of verse who out of the love and wisdom
of their hearts have contributed a share to the upbuilding of
the literature of Canada. If I were to attempt to tell the
story of their labor of love,

"Ante diem clauso componet Vesper Olympo."

There is the Honorable Joseph Howe, poet, journalist, and
statesman ; John Talon-Lesprance, the polished and scholarly
" Laclede " of the Montreal Gazette; Charles Pelham Mulvaney,
a gifted graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, who composed
with equal felicity English and Latin verse ; Father JEneas
McDonald Dawson, a notable figure for years in Canadian
literary circles ; George T. Lanigan, an exceptionally brilliant
journalist who wrote with equal ease and grace English and
French verse ; Alexander Rae Garvie, and McPherson, the early
Nova Scotia singer these are some of the poetic toilers of
the morn, all of whom have passed away.

A writer of much grace and finish is Most Rev. Cornelius
O'Brien, D.D., Archbishop of Halifax, who is particularly happy
in sonnet-building. Other names of special merit and promise
are W. D. Lighthall, A. W. Eaton, Arthur Weir, Carroll Ryan,.
William Wye Smith, J. F. Waters, Arthur John Lockhart,
George Martin, John E. Logan, Matthew Richey Knight, Mau-
rice W. Casey, and Nicholas Flood Davin. An erratic and
uneven but gifted writer is W. J. Kernighan, known in journal-

goo CANADIAN POETS AND POETXY. [Sept.,

ism as the " Khan." He is very human-hearted and has done
some very creditable work along the line of simple, homely
themes. J. W. Bengough's recently published volume of poems,
" Motley : Verses Grave and Gay," places him at the very head of
Canadian poets as a writer of tender and graceful elegies.
Bengough is best known as a cartoonist, having been for years
the editor of Grip, the Canadian Puck, but the kindly satire

J. K. FORAN, LL.D., LiT.D.

of his pen and brush only warmed his heart the more to the
loving virtues of his fellow-man.

I have not attempted to sketch even briefly the literary
work of our French-Canadian confreres of Quebec in the domain
of Canadian poetry, feeling that their achievements are worthy
of a special and separate study. It is enough to say that the
names of Frechette, Chauveau, Cremazie, Gagnon, and Le May
are honored in the land of Moliere, Chateaubriand, and Victor
Hugo.

1895.] CANADIAN POETS AND POETRY. Sot

But what of the sopranos in the academic groves of Cana-
dian song ? Are there no women in Canada ready and willing
to take up the lyre of Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Hemans, and Eliza^
beth Barrett Browning? Assuredly there are. Some of the
very best poetry that has been written in Canada is the work
of Canadian women. The chorus of bass and baritone voices
would sound very hollow and flat indeed were it not for the
sweet and tender warbling notes poured out by the sopranos in
our groves.

The palm of precedence among the women singers of
Canada is generally accorded to the late Isabella Valancey
Crawford, whose volume of poems bearing the double title
"Old Spook's Pass; Malcolm's Katie, and other Poems" is
packed full of strong work, rich in color and poetic thought.
Of course in point of time Mrs. Moodie, one of the gifted and
famous Strickland sisters, was the pioneer of Canadian women
singers. Agnes Maule Machar (Fidelis), of Kingston, Ontario,
writes poetry of a high order of merit, and -is regarded by
many as the strongest writer in prose or verse among the
Canadian women of to-day. Mrs. Curzon achieved considerable
fame in the publication of " Laura Secord," an incident in the
war of 1812.

A very unique writer of verse is E. Pauline Johnson, daugh-
ter of Head Chief Johnson of the Mohawk Indians of Brant-
ford, Ontario. She has great poetic insight, an artistic tempera-
ment, and a touch both delicate and refined. The passions of
her people their love, their hatred, their hopes, their fears
find in her a worthy aboriginal voice.

Mrs. Harrison (Seranus) has made French legends her special
study, and as " half her heart is French," her genius lends itself
willingly to her favorite theme. These are but a few of the
"sopranos that lend grace and charm to the chorus of Canadian
song. Who will say that when the twentieth century opens up,
with its awakening possibilities, our Canadian sisters may not be
found leading in the choral service of this land.

It is well to know, too, that the glory of Canada's achieve-
ment in letters is yet in the future that while the twilight of
eve is gradually but surely shading the literary firmament of
other lands Canadian skies are rosy with the promise of the
morn !

VOL. LXI. 51

g 02 A Swiss LEGEND. [Sept,,

A SWISS LEGEND.

BY T. L. L. TEELING.

ION the chief town of canton Valais, had long
been the see and residence of a bishop, and the
whole canton owned his pastoral rule, when one
remote valley, peopled by a race of " giants " as
tradition had it big, sturdy, lusty savages, and
shut out from the rest of the world by a natural fortification of
rock and torrent- remained inaccessible alike to evangelizing
and civilizing influences.

The inhabitants of the Val d'Anniviers, as this remote,
rockbound bit of land was called, were eminently self-sufficing
and self-supporting. They tilled their land, fed flocks, and lived,
like their forefathers, on the fruits of the earth and of their
labors, clothing themselves, doubtless, in the skins of wild
beasts, and offering strange sacrifices to their own rude idols.
One thing only, so the legend says, was wanting to them, and
that was salt ! To obtain this necessary luxury, therefore, they
were wont to make raids upon the neighboring villages of the
plain, claiming so many sacks of salt as a kind of tribute, and
enforcing their demands, if necessary, club in hand ; whence
their names had come to be a word of terror among their more
peaceful Christian neighbors.

From time to time the bishops of Sion sent messengers or
missionaries among them, each of whom went steadfastly up
through the narrow cleft in that towering mass of rock which,
like the Pass of Roland, was the only means of penetrating
their fastnesses ; but, white-flagged envoy or gift-bearing mes-
senger, stoled priest or disguised beggar, none ever returned to
tell the tale of his attempt. Their missions one and all ended,
as was conjectured, under the knife of the idolatrous priest, or
beneath the rushing waters of the river Navigance.

At last, one day, a certain noble baron, Witschand de
Karogne by name, fired perhaps by tales of the doughty deeds
of his ancestors, and eager to distinguish himself by some new
prowess which should link his name with those of gallant
knights of old, presented himself before the high altar of the
cathedral of Sion and prayed its bishop to receive a solemn

1 89 5.] A Swiss LEGEND. 803

vow. It was, that razor should never touch his face, nor trim
his beard, until those heathen Annivards were vanquished ;
either brought, repentant and converted, to the bishop's feet
like Clovis of old, or exterminated by fire and sword. The
bishop received his vow, and doubtless exhorted him to pru-
dence ; and his vassals crowded round to see him depart. It
was the eve of the Assumption. A long, dry summer (unusual
in those parts) had shrunk to half its normal size the rushing
torrent which, springing from a vast glacier far beyond, usually
filled the narrow defile between great pointed rocks, forming,
as we have said, the only possible entry to the Val d'Anni-
viers ; so that, without scaling the sides of the rock by ladder
the usual mode of ingress it was possible on this occasion to
mount by the half-dry river-bed. The baron then set forth,
with a picked band of three hundred men-at-arms, to invade
the valley ; and with great difficulty they scrambled, rather than
marched, across the huge loose boulders and masses of detached
rock until they reached the midst of the defile. Here, as they
slipped and stumbled in the starlight, and whispered of over-
taking the slumbering enemy unawares, a dog's bark suddenly
alarmed the sentinel, and in a few moments hundreds of flam-
ing torches lit up the surrounding darkness, and the shouts of
savage warriors awakened the echoes.

Before the invaders had time to beat a retreat for advance
were impossible the whole force of the river, dextrously
diverted from neighboring canals, poured down the narrow
gorge in one tremendous flood. The baron and his men, taken
by surprise, had only time to beat a hasty and ignominious
retreat, leaping and scrambling as best they could across jutting
rocks and clinging to overhanging bushes, until they found
themselves on terra firma once more. Before the hour of
Mass, on the feast of the Assumption, the baron and his men,
torn, dirty, and dishevelled, were once more within the walls of
their native town !

Next day Baron Witschand de Karogne gave a great feast,
and the one topic of conversation was his quixotic excursion
and its ignominious failure. He told the story himself amid
rqars of laughter from the audience, and many were the jokes
passed round on the length of time that would elapse ere their
noble seigneur summoned his barber. Presently, as the cups went
round and a lull fell over the noisy company, a quaint little
figure came dancing and ducking to the head of the table. It
was Zaccheo, a dwarf, the " fool " of the household ; a common

8o4 A Swiss LEGEND. [Sept.,

figure in those times, when every royal, and not a few noble
households kept some half-witted man with special aptitude for
jesting and playing tricks, to amuse the lords after their day's
hunting or fighting. We have all heard of Chicot, the clever
"fool "of Henri III.'s court in France/and Triboulet under
Frederick the Great, and Geoffrey Hudson in English Charles's
retinue, and many others ; and so this queer little, misshapen,
hunchbacked figure was, by privilege of his post, no less than
by his infirmities, allowed all the license commonly accorded to
" cap and bells."

" My lord the baron ! "

" What is it, Zaccheo ? "

" I have a plan, which needs your lordship's sanction ! "

" Say it out, little Zaccheo ; we listen."

And all the knights and guests round the table leaned over
to listen, expectant of some new joke or quaint conceit.

" Silence, all of you, and laugh not at my words ! " cried
the little man, with a petulant stamp of his foot like a
spoiled child. " My lord the baron, you have failed to conquer
those Annivards, those savages, up yonder. Well, I will go,
and with the help of God (here he pulled off his fool's cap
reverently) I will conquer them, I myself alone, if your lord-
ship will but give me that grand Book of the Gospels with the
splendid pictures and letters of gold, which you received last
Christmas from the bishop."

A general laugh received this speech, every one present
taking it as a joke ; but the baron, making a sign for silence,
answered the dwarf quite gravely :

" But tell us, my little friend, how you propose to do it."

" Begging your lordship's pardon, I will not divulge my plan.
All I can tell you is, that I can read like a Benedictine, that
those heathen up there take me for a thing and not a man,
and that I can speak their language like one of themselves."

" You, Zaccheo ? "

"Yes, I, Zaccheo!" He tossed his fool's cap into the air
and caught it, jingling, on his head, and then went on. " My
lord does not know that at the time of those savages' last raid
in search of salt (How long ago ? Why some ten years or so.)
one of them, taking me, no doubt, for a sack of salt, carried
me off with him."

" What, up to the Anniviers valley ? " they all cried.

" Just so, my good sirs. I lived there captive for three
years, and know every stone in the place as well as themselves! "

1 895.] A Swiss LEGEND. 805

" Then how on earth did you manage to escape ? " they all
cried, looking at him with more interest than they had ever
yet bestowed upon that ugly, misshapen form.

" Ah, that is my secret ! " he grinned ; "never mind that now.
Come, my lord, will you give me the book ? "

The baron signed to one of his pages to bring him the
great leather-bound, gold-clasped book, with its parchment
leaves and crabbed black-letter writing, the work of many
months' patient labor, with its glowing initials and pages of
delicate traceries and quaint conceits birds, monkeys, fruits,
and marvellous intricate designs. The old chaplain from the
foot of the table, where he sat to say grace, looked regretfully
on ; he knew, better than any there, how precious a volume
it was, and how long Brother Boniface, at the bishop's desire,
had toiled to make it a worthy Christmas offering to the lord
of the manor.

" There it is, Zaccheo," said the Baron de Karogne ; " take
it and conquer our foes ! "

" Farewell, my lord baron," answered Zaccheo, wrapping
the precious volume carefufcy in the long, gold-embroidered
scarf which he wore as part of his official costume ; " farewell,
and do not let your razors rust ! " And with this parting sally
he left the hall.

Strange as it may seem, the dwarf was in earnest ; and,
what is more, he began his work in a manner worthy of the
old knights of Christendom. Retiring to his own cabin, he
passed that night in prayer ; then, rising early, he sought and
obtained his mother's blessing; armed with which, and with
the famous Book of the Gospels securely tucked under his
arm, he set forth without more ado up the bed of the river
down which his master had but yesterday so ignominiously
fled. We may imagine that the Annivard sentinels were even
more watchfully than usual on the alert ; but little Zaccheo
marched boldly up to them, and they, recognizing their es-
caped human plaything, quickly brought him before their
chiefs, who for the most part received him with shouts of joy.
One old blind chief, however, aged and maimed from many
wars, and soured by his

" Sans hair, sans eyes, sans teeth, sans everything "

condition,, insisted strenuously on their ancient law being car-
ried out : that which prescribed that every stranger found
within the limits of their valley should at once be sacrificed to

806 A Swiss LEGEND. [Sept.,

the "giant" or "god of the glacier," by being hurled down
the great gulf of the Weisshorn a Swiss Tarpeian Rock!
He was the oldest, the wisest, the most influential among the
savage chieftains; and Zaccheo, seeing the others waver before
him, felt that there was no time to be lost, so, pulling out his
big book, blazing with gold and color

" Master," he said, " I have, I acknowledge it, no more
right to live than other strangers who have, at your bidding,
been sacrificed to the god of the glacier ' here he bent his
head in feigned acquiescence to the sentence given, and then,
half inadvertently as it were, he opened one of the most gor-
geously emblazoned pages of the book which he held. The
other chiefs and men crowding round burst into exclamations
of astonishment. " Yes," he went on, half answering them, but
addressing himself to the old chieftain, "the book which I
bear is indeed blazing with gorgeous pictures whose beauties
you cannot see ; but it also contains many wondrous tales of
the olden times, the like of which you never heard ; and, if
you so will it, I will read you a page ! " And without waiting
for a reply, he began to read thl nth chapter of St. John's
Gospel.

The old chief was won over, and consented to spare the
intruder's life until he had read the whole book. So all the
rest of that summer, during the long, cool evenings, or in mid-
day heat when work was slackest, little Zaccheo sat among
them with his big book, and read, "like a Benedictine," the
first Book of the Gospels, pausing here and there to point out
to his child-like auditors some dainty vignette or intricate
initial, or to explain some obscure reading as best he could.

When winter came Zaccheo was lodged with the bard or
singer of the tribe and bidden to teach him these strange stones,
that he might string them into verse and learn to accompany
them in his own wild music, like the ballads of war or tones
with which he beguiled their idle hours or enlivened their
marriage feasts ; and Zaccheo taught him the stories, but would
by no means teach him to read ; so month succeeded month,
and winter followed summer, and still Zaccheo and his book
were safe.

At length the last page was reached, the last gospel finished,
and the now well-thumbed volume was no longer a sealed book
to its auditors. Zaccheo might well have hoped and expected
his release, but the old chief, stern and stubborn, now renewed
his assertion that the "giant of the glacier" would be angered

1895.] A Swiss LEGEND. 807

if his victim was not delivered up to him, and after some delib-
eration the order went forth that the dwarf must die. They
led him out, his precious book duly suspended round his neck,
and followed by a crowd of people, doubtless lamenting the
loss of their story-teller, they arrived at the brink of the
abyss ; Zaccheo all the time valiantly continuing his exhortations
and instructions on the Christian Faith. As they approached
the glacier its huge masses of ice cracked ominously, and the
frightened crowd whispered that they were surely groans of
anger from the too-long-unappeased anger of the god ; so,
waiving further ceremony, they hurriedly pushed the condemned
man over the edge of the precipice and fled back to their
homes.

So Zaccheo and his exhortations and his wonderful book
were disposed of for ever. But were they? Strange to relate,
the legend tells us that instead of falling headlong down the
abyss, as would have been the case had his executioners not
been too agitated to do their work properly, that hurried push
merely landed him on a ledge of rock beneath, where he
crouched for some minutes, listening to the tramp of feet of
the returning multitude. When all was still he let himself
gently downwards, as rock-climbers so well know how, here
catching an overhanging crag, there wedging one foot carefully
into some fissure or crack until he reached the bottom of the
crevasse, and from there crept, on hands and knees, out into the
plain.

The dwarf might now well deem his mission ended and
return to his native town ; but no ! such was not his intention.
Turning back to the river-bed which had been his original
entrance, he walked straight into the valley again, and appeared
in the midst of the astonished people who were believing him
dead. Stupefied at the sight, they fell on their knees before
him ; and he, signing to them to rise, began a glowing dis-
course on the power of that Saviour who had preserved him
unhurt in the glacier. As he ended shouts of triumph arose ;
two sturdy youths lifted him and bore him on a shield to the
dwelling of the old blind chief, and he, vanquished at last when
he heard the tale, had himself led out into the midst of the
people, and there, with outstretched hands, he cried : " Jesus of
Nazareth is our God, and Zaccheo is his high-priest ! " And all
the people re-echoed his words.

The victorious apostle then explained that he was not and
could not be " their priest," but that there were many such

8o8

AT NIGHT.

[Sept.

awaiting them in the city beyond ; and the very next day he
headed a deputation of his " heathen giants " to the bishop of
Sion. On their way they passed by the baron's castle, and he
made a great feast for them, shaved himself, and accompanied
them to the bishop, who received them at the cathedral door
with tears of joy. Zaccheo was consecrated priest, and returned
with a body of deacons to the Val d'Anniviers, where not long
afterwards, on the next Feast of Pentecost, he baptized the
old chief with all his people.

Such is the legend of the Annivards' conversion. How much
of truth it holds, who can say ? One thing is indisputable, that,
however they obtained the faith, their ardor in maintaining it
has ever since been such that among their less zealous com-
patriots they have gained the reputation of being " more
Catholic than the pope himself ! " May they ever remain so !

AT NIGHT.

BY FRANK H. SWEET.

AT night

The whirl of life grows still ;
The throbbing of the noisy mill,
The pulsing brain and hands that till,
At night grow still.

At night

The stars come out and keep

Their watch through all the hours of sleep,

O'er dreaming land and solemn deep,

And those who weep.

At night

We rise above the care

And pettiness that all must bear,

And breathe the calm and purer air

That angels share.

.BULL OF SHIVA, CARVED OUT OF SOLID ROCK. MYSORE. OBJECT OF WORSHIP.

THE LUSTRE OF 'THE LIGHT OF ASIA."

BY REV. R. M. RYAN.

N the August number of this magazine Buddhism
was depicted in colors just and true, without
those over-luminous scintillations its admirers love
to beguile and bewilder inquirers with, to the
sacrifice, not alone of reality, but of whatever
grace and symmetry it may otherwise claim. Because of its
ante-dating Christianity, and of its being a widely-accepted sub-
stitute for religion, rather than an account of any intrinsic worth
it may possess either as a philosophy or religion, its claims have
been very greatly exaggerated. It is easy to show that, like
the shell, which, devoid of all coloring substance itself, still ex-
hibits exquisite chromatic effects, Buddhism's lustre and that of
the other Oriental systems that have any is iridescent and is
entirely due to the light reflected by their thin underlying laminae.
Their beautiful moral truths are but faint reflections of a primi-
tive revelation, gleaned by their founders from the yet unex-
pired embers smouldering amidst the ash-heaps of their effete

8 io THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA:' [Sept.,

remains, and constituting all the brightness of the faint " Light
of Asia."

The Buddha, as was shown, neither founded nor intended to
found " a religion." That which existed in his time was pretty
much what goes to-day under the name of Brahmanism. Al-
though in principle truer and purer than Buddhism, it was then
as it is now as indeed Buddhism itself is a polytheistic, pagan
thing, reeking with corruption, saturated with the grossest errors,
and almost unrecognizable either as a religion or a philosophy
from its rank overgrowth of superstitions and absurd and de-
moralizing idolatrous practices. The illustrations presented in
our pages of " Shiva," of " Indur Subha," and of some Oriental
" religious " performances, need no description. In their way
they sufficiently bear testimony to what has been asserted.
This was why Buddha rejected it altogether, without directly
antagonizing it, and aimed at substituting a something different
in kind, that would tend to make the people wise, moral, and
well-behaved, without any reference at all to religion, to God,

THE " INDUR SUBHA "THE GREAT GOD REPRESENTED RIDING ON AN ELEPHANT. ELLORA.

or to supernatural agencies of any description. In other words,
he attempted, and to a great extent accomplished, what agnos-
tic philosophers would fain do in our own time if they could.
As easily could they make day and night interchange places.

I895-]

THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA"

811

Gautama had the darkness of error to overthrow ; their en-
counter is with the brightness of truth. Hence his success ;
hence their failure.

Brahmanism, Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism like all

MOHURRUM A "RELIGIOUS" PROCESSION.

other man-made religions supply no supernatural aid to innate
human infirmity. Hence, however attractive, or beautiful, or
consistent with the teachings or sentiments of the day their
theories may be made to appear, they will not permanently
gain the masses or make their practice come up to the re-
quired standard that peace and civilization, not to say true
morality and true worship of the Deity, demand. This is the
reason why countries swayed by them are in the deplor-
able slough we find them to-day. Unquestionably they would
not be so, had they adhered strictly to primitive truth or em-
braced Christianity when it was offered to them. Not only so,
but there are strong reasons for holding that these Asiatic Ary-
an races, whose scattered descendants lost a knowledge of so
many sacred and secular truths in their migrations, would have
surpassed their Indo-European brethren to-day, but for their
misfortune in having obscured their own primitive light and
rejected Christ, the true " Lux Mundi."

812 THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Sept.,

THE STEM OF ALL ORIENTAL BELIEFS.

For an understanding of this deeply interesting question,
it is necessary to draw a sharp and well-defined distinction be-
tween the primitive religion, from which the five pseudo-religions
above mentioned, and their subordinate sects, were developed.
Until the last half century this was impossible, as the old .manu-
scripts and monuments were only partially deciphered. The
labors of Mr. Max Muller, Mr. Rhys Davids, Mr. Cox, M. Bur-
nouf, Mr. Johnson, MM. Hue and Gabet, Bishop Hanlon, and
of numerous other French and German philologists and travel-
lers, have put it in the power of every student now to make
a thorough investigation of this much-debated and overmuch
mystified subject. The worth of the extravagant claims of
some sages of the Orient, and of their Occidental agnostic ad-
mirers, who are more of partisans than professors, can now be
fully estimated. For example, Colonel H. Olcott, once president
of the moribund Theosophical Society, in his Buddhist Catechism
says : " Who dare predict that Buddhism will not be the one
chosen of all the world's great creeds that is destined to be
the religion of the future ? " Any one making such a claim now
just twelve years after the colonel's daring insinuation would
be laughed at by the scholars of the world. But laughter is
not the argument we intend bringing forward here to demon-
strate the emptiness of these and similar pretensions. We shall
show that whatever is good or praiseworthy, whatever is true
in doctrine or pure in morals, in any of these, is found in all
their fulness in Christianity, which preserved them unsullied,
having inherited them from the same primitive source, the origi-
nal revelation made to Adam and to succeeding patriarchs and
prophets of the old dispensation, and perfected by the com-
plete manifestation of Christ in the New Law.

Any child can make clear for himself the first part of this
thesis by comparing the recognized truths of these religions,
and such of sound morality as they still hold, with what his
Christian catechism inculcates. He will see that he has nothing
to learn from them. Osseous philosophical quibbles; without mus-
cle or energizing nerve, they have in abundance. They consti-
tute a prominent part of every non-Christian system. Instead of
being admitted into the body corporate of Christian ethics, they
are relegated to the far-distant domain of polemics, to be cast
now to one side and now to another whilst a scintilla of truth
clings to them. Until a formal ethical system is developed

i8 9 5.]

THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA."

813

independently of religion, that is of Christianity a feat never
yet? accomplished, although some of the ablest intellects of ancient
and modern times have been devoted to the task it will be
time enough to undertake its demolition. The simpler and
more useful task of showing the close relationship between
whatever of good was received by the various Oriental systems
and the primitive Hebrew system, is more worthy of attention.

MOSES AND OTHER EASTERN SEERS COMPARED.

Of the resemblances and differences between the four great
Oriental' seers, Moses, Zoroaster, Confucius, and Buddha, their

THE FAMOUS CAR OF " JUGGERNATH," UNDER WHOSE WHEELS MEN IN RELIGIOUS FRENZY
THREW THEMSELVES TO BE CRUSHED, IN HOPES OF GAINING HEAVEN.

work and that of their successors and expounders, much
that is striking and significant may be said. The first
mentioned lays no claim to wisdom, yet he has never been
shown to have erred. The others have done little else than
make mistakes in every branch of knowledge, as approved to-
day, although their best efforts were directed to proving them-
selves, pre-eminently wise. But for this they probably would
not have been heard of outside the native country of each.
Moses made no such efforts, and put forth no such claim ; quite
the contrary. Yet great as they have shown themselves, judged

814 THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Sept.,

even by the efficiency and permanence of their work, they are,
compared with him, but as little star-points whose brightness dis-
appears when the sun's rays show above the horizon. Their
commentators and continuators were no better, nor not at all
so good ; for they so spoiled their work by additional absurdi-
ties and contradictions that it is only now that something like
order can be drawn out of the chaos hitherto prevailing. The
work of Moses and of the patriarchs and prophets, who taught
after him, form a perfect whole, well ordered and complete in
itself, needing neither comment nor explanation, excepting such
as the vast differences and distinctions between their times and
our own necessitate. Were an American or European company
of scholars to undertake to expound " The Sacred Books of the
East," the first thing they must necessarily do, would be to dis-
agree upon the most elementary and essential points ; for these
books are all in hopeless discord in themselves and with each
other. The writers of the Bible were humble and modest, and
attribute whatever of good they said or did, not to their own
knowledge or power, but to the Inspirer of each and all of them
the Supreme Lord and Master of the universe. Throughout,
the sublime phrase ever recurs, " Thus saith the Lord God."

Even if no other proof were forthcoming of the superiority
of the Biblical scribes, superabounding is afforded in the un-
paralleled fact, that they never contradict each other and are
always consistent with themselves and in accordance with all of
truth that is or ever was in the world. Nothing like this can
be asserted of any of the others. In almost everything are
they contradictory each of the other ; hardly were they in ac-
cord with any of the facts of nature that happened not to be
well known in their time ; and whenever they ventured out of
the safe domain of truisms, proverbs, and platitudes, modern
science has to check them. Moses and the other writers of the
Old Testament, and still more those of the New, refer to past
events, as well as those transpiring in their day, and even to
future events also, with a simplicity, clearness, and precision
there is no mistaking; thereby leaving themselves open to dis-
proof from a thousand sources if they happened to err. It is
needless to say that up to date they have not been convicted
of so doing, although until a few years ago there was room
for some anxiety, as many scriptural names, dates, and locations
were different from those of other historical records, and could
not be verified until the unearthing of Assyrian and Egyptian
monuments, which confirmed them in a way that must fill every

THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA."

815

reflecting mind with amazement at their more-than-could-be-ex-
pected accuracy. Then again, in the domain of physical science
what astounding conformity with its latest and most reliable

conclusions is shown by these men, necessarily ignorant, human-
ly speaking, of all the wonderful discoveries contradictory in
many particulars of the teaching of their times ! In all these
respects the works of other sages are ludicrously in error.

816 THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Sept.,

THE CONFUCIAN WRITINGS.

As illustration of this the Confucian Annals may be quoted :
"As they were very meagre his disciple, Tso K'iuming, undertook
to supply their deficiencies, and with the most perplexing re-
sults. Men are charged with murder by one who were not con-
sidered guilty of it by the other, and base murders are record-
ed as if they had been natural deaths. Villains, over whose
fate the reader rejoices, are put down as victims of vile treason,
and those who dealt with them, as he would have been glad to
do, are subjected to horrible executions without one word of
sympathy. Ignoring, concealing, and misrepresenting are the
characteristics of the Spring and Autumn "; and yet it was
of this book that Confucius was most proud, saying of it
that by it " Men would know him." (Encyclopaedia Britannica,
vol. vi.)

The chronology of their historical references is admitted now,
by their educated followers, to be utterly astray. Their mis-
takes in every branch of human science, even in the fundamen-
tals of logic, metaphysics, and ontology, not to speak of astro-
nomy, geology, natural history, and other elemental physical
sciences, shatter their claims to anything like preternatural, much
less supernatural, enlightenment. Their ethical systems, although
so admirable for pagans, are, like those of their modern agnos-
tic panegyrists, utterly devoid of basic principles, or effective
motives that could operate with the masses. It need hardly be
pointed out how different all this is from the well-ordered, effec-
tive, and complete moral system of the Bible, where the teach-
ers, instead of ex professo, didactic discourses, speak with a con-
scious conviction of the existence, and universal acknowledgment
of well-defined moral obligations, and of motives sufficiently
powerful to influence all who are made aware of them. In their
exhortations to obedience they never err against true science
by false references, misquotations, promulgations of contradictory
principles, or of absurd individual, social, political, or economic
teachings ; such as have at all times distinguished reformers or
founders of new systems, and such as make the teachings of
the seers of the East, like the kernels of many of its own fruits,
available only after the removal of a deal of prickly outer cov-
ering and useless pulp. And when at length the inner core has
been reached it has a most suspiciously familiar flavor. This
brings us up to the most interesting phase of the whole ques-
tion.

i8 9 5.]

THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA"

817

THE GENESIS OF THE WISDOM AND MORALITY OF THE SEERS.

OF THE ORIENT.

The dictum of Mr. Max Miiller, " The more we go back, the
more we examine the germs of any religion, the purer we shall
find the conception of Deity," is afforded striking verification in
the religions of
the East. The
Manthras, the old-
est hymns of the
Vedas, bring be-
fore us the ancient
Hindus, then call-
ed Aryans, wor- H ifit
shipping God un-
der unutterable
names as " THAT,"
" THAT ONE."
According to
Herod o tus, the
Pelasgians wor-
shipped gods with-
out having names
for them at all,
and Tacitus tells
us that the ancient
Germans worship-
ped God as " that
SECRET THING known only by reverence." In the Upaniskads,
or Vedic philosophical disquisitions, God is spoken of as the
" One without a second." Who is not at once reminded by
these of " Jehovah," the sacred unpronounceable name of God,
as given in the Pentateuch ?

Not only in tenets believed, but also in those things bearing
on moral conduct, do we find unmistakable resemblances between
the ancient Aryans and Hebrews. The fact that the farther
back we go the more close becomes the resemblance, makes
the evidence of a common origin still stronger.

The oldest god of the Aryans was Varuna, who was the
loftiest conception of deity that pagan mythology imagined.
Associated with his attributes was intense consciousness of sin.
During the long interval between Varuna and Brahma, that is,
between the most primitive Hindu religion and that existing in
VOL. LXI. 52

TEMPLE OF SARANGABANI, AT COMBACONAM, INDIA.

8i8 THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Sept.,

the time of the Persian Zoroaster B.C. 1400, this ethical con-
sciousness of sin and accountability to the deity, gradually be-
came corrupted, until the Brahma of to-day is reached, a some-
thing with the name, but with only indistinct personal attri-
butes of God. Buddha and Confucius, although retaining the
name, lost sight entirely of the personality, and wound up
with a purely philosophical deity. Thus, as surviving fragments
of a precious work of art serve to tell of its worth and beauty,
but hardly of its form or use, the indestructible idea of the
One only true God, with imperishable scraps of primitive moral
and doctrinal revelation outlived man's vagaries and weaknesses,
in minds purer and better, until some one, far transcending
his fellows, gathered them up and reproduced the more or less
beautiful parts, adding on, with the cement of his own fancy,
cruder portions that are easily distinguishable from the grand

MOHAMMEDAN MOSQUE, LUCKNOW, IN WHICH HINDU ARCHITECTURAL FEATURES

ARE IGNORED.

whole. This is what the imaginative Orient and its sages have
been doing from time immemorial.

THE EVIDENCE OF THE VEDAS.

From so many sources come evidences of what is here
claimed as the genesis of the wisdom and morality found in
Brahmanism, Parseeism, Confucianism, and Buddhism, that an
attempt at condensing them into a magazine article becomes

1895.] THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA."

819

embarrassing. The more the oldest records are studied, the
more clear and convincing these become. On the other hand,
confusion and unaccountable anomalies and incongruities bristle
all over, on, any other supposition. The exceptional knowledge
and comparatively
lofty morality of
Gautama, of Men-
cius his contem-
porary, and of
Confucius and
Zoroaster his pre-
decessors, as well
as that of some of
the Greek philo-
sophers, seem easy
of comprehension
on this hypothesis,
but full of enigma
on any other.

The religion of
India, indeed it
may be said of all
the Aryan or old-
est nations, in-
cluding the Hin-
dus, at Buddha's
appearance, was
Brahmanism. Hap-
pily these had a
vast literature, a
large portion of which has been preserved, and, during the
current century, deciphered. Beyond and above all else in this
Indo-Aryan literature stand the Vedas, which were collections
of poems with commentaries thereon, and embodying the earli-
est traditions of the race, the highest expression of its wisdom,
the surest expositors of its religious systems ; in a word, a
record and exemplar of all that a people most prized, in
science, literature, social life, and so forth. At least this is
true of the oldest and most venerated, the Rig-Veda.

The Rev. Maurice Philips, who made an exhaustive study of
the Vedas in Madras, after an elaborate discussion of the
question, whether the idea of God as found in them was a
" Reminiscence " or an " Evolution," demonstrates by unanswer-

BUST OF THE BUDDHA, IN A SACRED ENCLOSURE.

820 THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA." [Sept.,

able arguments that it must have been the former. " We con-
clude," he says, "that the knowledge of the divine functions
and attributes possessed by the Vedic Aryans, was neither the
product of intuition nor experience, but a 'survival/ the re-
sult of a primitive revelation. The Vedic doctrines of cosmo-
logy, anthropology, and sotoriology lead to the same conclu-
sions." Nothing would be easier than to reproduce his argu-
ments did space permit.

Professor H. H. Wilson, another Vedic scholar, agrees with
Mr. Philips on this point, stating that "there can be no doubt
that the fundamental doctrine of the Vedas is monotheism."
With these two Max Muller is in full accord. M. Adolphe Pictet
concurs in the same view. He says: "The remembrance of a
God, one and infinite, breaks through the mists of an idolatrous
phraseology, like the blue sky that is hidden by a passing
cloud." (Les Origines Europc'ennes).

The Vedas do more than what has thus far been claimed.
As they afford pictures of family life, we can trace therein a
striking resemblance to that of patriarchial times, as depicted
in the Bible. The family is represented as assembled on the
green turf under the blue vault of heaven, offering sacrifice,
accompanied by hymns, such as a highly gifted race would
compose, who inherited echoes of the primitive revelation.

THE PATRIARCHAL SYSTEM A CHARACTERISTIC.

The great emphasis laid on respect for parents and ances-
tors, on submission to the ruling authority and on brotherly
concord which are characteristics of all the primitive codes
plainly point the same way, to the family of many generations,
with the patriarch at the head, from whom the history, the law,
the manners, the religious teaching, are all derived. This is
specially noticeable in Confucianism, whose founder so far imi-
tated the patriarchs that, like them, he trusted exclusively to
oral teaching. The voluminous written discourses under the
name of the " Six Classics or Confucian Scriptures," are but the
commentaries of his disciples. Hence it is that to-day, after
nearly twenty-five centuries with their vicissitudes and revolu-
tions, his descendants are still in possession of his patrimony,
as evidence of regard for him and for patriarchal customs.

It is noteworthy too that Confucius made only a patriarchal
claim to be a teacher and a guide, in a general way, of those
who heeded him. He said : " I was not born a man of know-
ledge ; I am only naturally quick to search out the truth from

1895.] THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" 821

a love for the wisdom of the ancients. ... In following
rather than in setting examples, and in showing a love for
truth and antiquity, I fancy that I can bear comparison with
Lao-Tan and Pung-chien."

Though somewhat out of place, the remark is otherwise so
pertinent as to claim privilege, namely, that it seems as far as
can now be judged, at this distance of time, that if Providence
had so ordained, the Asiatic Aryans would have far out-dis-
tanced their Indo-European brethren, had they closely adhered
to their primitive traditions, instead of clinging to superstitions,
until they rejected Christianity when it was offered to them.
Building on their more perfect knowledge of primitive truths,
Christian civilization would have attained to a far higher stage
and a far more extended range, than that which it even now
boasts in Europe and America. The few illustrations of
ancient architectural remains here given are evidences of this.
Although unique and beautiful, they have been sterile of re-
sults. The designers and executors of them either failed to

A BRAHMAN AT PRAYER.

get beyond them or to perpetuate their genius by a progressive
offspring. The not less admired carved and textile work of the
Orient is to-day what it was two thousand years ago, and
equally barren of results. The conservatism, amounting to

822

THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA" [Sept.,

political, social, and educational paralysis, and begotten of their
inert systems, prevented primitive artistic, cosmic, chemical,
mechanical, and even mental and metaphysical, knowledge with
which they were familiar, and that Europeans have discovered

only after cen-
turies of seeking,
from being carried
out to their legiti-
mate conclusions^
The nebular
theory, steam, ex-
plosives, hypno-
tism, and everi
electricity, as well
as many pneuma-
tic and hydraulic
mechanical contri-
vances, that were
well known to
them, were stunt-
ed in their de-
velopment by this
sterile religio-so-
cial conservatism.
The Confucian
writings fill us with
astonishment at
the obvious famili-
arity of the scribes

DEVIL-WORSHIPPERSDANCER AND TAM-TAM PLAYER. with what are only

modern discov-
eries amongst ourselves. These they refer to side by side with
puerile errors concerning what we would call most elemental
natural truths.

THE EVIDENCE OF THE AVESTA AND GATHAS.

The resemblance between the teachings attributed to Zoro-
aster and Judaism is so striking, as to make one suspect that
this great philosopher, or rather the writers of the Avesta and
Gathas, the Zoroastrian Scriptures, took their doctrines direct
from the Hebrew Scriptures. This is the more remarkable as
these are much older than those of the Hindus or Chinese.
No form of paganism has so clearly preserved the ideas of

18950

THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA."

823

merit and demerit and of man's responsibility to his Creator
as Parseeism, of which Zoroaster was only the reformer, not
the founder. According to the teaching of Zoroaster: "All
thoughts, words, and deeds of each one are entered on the
books as separate
items ; all the evil
works are as debts.
Wicked works can-
not be undone, but,
in the heavenly ac-
count, can be coun-
terbalanced by a sur-
plus of good works."
The particular judg-
ment after death and
the general judg-
ment at the end of
time, are clearly re-
ferred to. The con-
tinual tempting by
the evil one and the
merit acquired by re-
sisting him ; the ne-
cessity of a prophet
being sent by God
to teach all truth to
men ; and the ex-
pectation of such an
one's coming,; the
triumph of truth,
and the establish-
ment of God's king-
dom on earth, and
many other truths
clearly taught by the
ancient patriarchs
and prophets, form-
ed part of the Par-
see or Zoroastrian
creed

A PARSEE MERCHANT OF BOMBAY.
Regarding the

creation, the fall of man, the deluge, from which a few just
were saved, and by whom the world was repeopled, it is

824 THE. LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA. ' [Sept.,

well known that they formed part of the traditions of all the
Orientals.

From all which, we certainly are justified in thinking that
the basic truths and moral teachings, as well as the cosmic
theories, of all the various Asiatic peoples, had a common origin
in the primitive revelation, treasured up and taught by respec-
tive patriarchs similar to those of the Bible. When the lives
of these became -shortened and the human family became more
widely dispersed, individuals of uncommon talent gathered up
the tangled threads, arranged them according to their best
judgment, and worked them into the respective systems called
after them. It is the poets, romancers, and commentators that
superadded the extravagances that make them unrecognizable
as they are now taught and practised. But for the ancient
monuments and manuscripts, the genesis of Oriental wisdom
would be difficult to discover. Philosophers who have under-
taken the task on other lines, have lost themselves in sophisti-
cal quagmires and shifting sands of speculation, about what
should be, rather than what is, where a long-suffering public
was glad to lose sight of many of them.

UNIVERSALITY OF REVELATION.

In the February and May numbers of this magazine ap-
peared articles which clearly showed, from the monumental
records of Assyria and Egypt, that these nations had a knowl-
edge and close relationship with the ancient Hebrews. Therein
was also pointed out their acquaintance with the Scripture nar-
ratives of Creation and the Deluge. Only that it might extend
this article beyond prescribed limits, it would be easy to show
a concordance in many of the other great leading doctrines of
revelation.

If enough has not been put forth to fully demonstrate our
thesis regarding the genesis of Oriental wisdom, there remains
the only other tenable theory regarding it, which, after all,
amounts to the same thing, namely, that " Revelation, properly
speaking, is a universal not a local gift," as Cardinal Newman
affirms, and that " there is something true and divinely revealed
in every religion, all over the earth." St. Augustine said the
same thing more pithily in his Confessions, book v. c. 6 : " Nee
quisquam, prater Te, alius est doctor veri, ubicumque et un-
decumque claruerit." Is not the same thing implied in the
sublime dirge "Dies Ira.," where the Sibyl and inspired
: are mentioned as equally illuminated from on high ?

THE LUSTRE OF " THE LIGHT OF ASIA"

825

the Greeks of " a prophet of their

And St. Paul speaks to

own." But it is from the lips of Truth Itself we learn the

reading of the whole enigma, and the light in which it is to be

A PARSER FAMILY GROUP.

viewed : " The Spirit breatheth where he will : thou hearest his
voice, but thou knowest not whence he cometh or whither he
goeth " (St. John iii. 8). In other words, God's will is his only

826

THE SOUL'S RELEASE.

[Sept.,

rule; "what it pleaseth him he does," not what we prescribe for
him. He speaks to whom He pleases, how and when He
pleases, and deals otherwise with all his creatures not only most
justly but most mercifully.

In full accord herewith is the supposition that from time to
time all peoples have inspired men sent to them, to whom, if
they listen, others will follow, and in due time the whole truth
will be opened to them. There is no repugnance in thinking
that Zoroaster, Confucius, and Gautama were of this class. The
many absurdities superadded to their teaching may be the work
of disciples and commentators, just as every day's experience
shows us well-meaning men attributing to the Prophets and
Apostles, and even to our Lord Himself, things they never
thought of. There is not wanting reason for a well-founded
hope that in due time and such never seemed so near before
as at present all will be gathered into " one fold witJ^&one
Shepherd," and the words of Wisdom i. 7 will be fully verified :
" The Spirit of the Lord hath filled the whole world : and that
which containeth all things, hath knowledge of the voice."

THE SOUL'S RELEASE.

BY ANNA COX STEPHENS.

Y walls are no more prison walls,

I now can see 'tis sunlight on the case-
ment falls ;
And bars I thought were iron, cold and

grim,

Were only transfixed shadows some-
thing dim

That caught their darkness from the soul within.
Enmesh'd am I in heaven's latticed gold,
(A sunbeam surely hath no power to hold ?)
From out the glory comes a Voice afar
The veil uplifts the eternal gates unbar.

1895.] THE REQUIREMENTS OF A CATHOLIC CATECHISM. 827

THE REQUIREMENTS OF A CATHOLIC
CATECHISM.

B\ REV. A. B. SCHWENNIGER.

E do not propose to give in this article a treatise
in full on Catechism. It is not our intention to
write a history of the Catechism of Christian
Doctrine, nor is it our purpose to explain the
great importance of catechetical instruction, or to
dwell on the duty- of the pastor as catechist. We shall endeavor
to answer as briefly as possible the two following questions i
ist. What is a catechism of Christian doctrine? 2d. Which are
the qualities that go to make up a really practical catechism ?
I. The term catechism is applied to a book containing in a
succinct form the elementary truths of Catholic doctrine, methodi-
cally disposed in questions and answers and written 1 in language
intelligible to children. Considering this definition, we call
special attention to the word elementary, because it is the ob-
ject of the catechism to teach the child the plain, simple truths
of faith. This excludes from the subject-matter of the catechism
at once all intricate questions, objections, problematic opinions,
etc., unless they be very common and generally known: The
imprudence of a catechist introducing side issues may sow the
seed of doubt and disturb the happy quiet of a -heart full of
faith. Christian doctrine in itself is food for the mind so nour-
ishing and elevating, and delight for the heart so charming,
that the catechist need not go out of his way and lose his pre-
cious time picking up on the roadside the wormwood of subtili-
ties. Let, then, the catechist break the healthful bread of Christ's
teachings for the child, open up his budding mind, that the
grandeur of Christian doctrine may shine upon it, as the rays of
the sun upon the budding flowers of spring. The Apostles'
Creed in compendium contains the chief truths of faith and
justly greets the child on the first page of the catechism. The
question, " Who made known to the Apostles the truths of
faith ? " naturally leads to the sources of faith, viz., Tradition
and the Bible ; Tradition in the broad sense of this word, being
the normal handing down of the doctrine of Christ from genera-
tion to generation, should occupy the first place. Let us add a

828 THE REQUIREMENTS OF A CATHOLIC CATECHISM. [Sept.,

remark concerning Bible history as an element of the catechism.
We cannot approve of the opinion of those who purpose to
teach catechism through Bible history, since Bible history has
decidedly its own province in religious instruction, and is apt to
divert the child's mind from the essential point in view, viz., to
impress on the young understanding the elementary truths of
faith in clear terms. Gruber, a well-known catechist, who made
Bible history the leading feature of his catechism, after due ex-
perience reconsidered his plan and was forced to acknowlege his
mistake. The renowned Hirscher, another great catechist, com-
mitted the same blunder and repented his error. The celebrat-
ed Mey could not persuade his contemporaries to adopt Bible
history as the means of teaching catechism. We might also
mention that Fleury and Fenelon became satisfied that this
method was faulty and dropped Bible history. The elementary
truths of faith, and nothing else, form, according to our defini-
tion, the subject-matter of catechism.

THE MOST APPROPRIATE BEGINNING.

Writers of catechisms generally preface the subject-matter
with an introduction. Admirable and most practical is the man-
ner in which Bellarmin begins his wonderful little catechism by
placing the sign of the cross at the head of it. This sign em-
bodies the principal mysteries of faith ; and the catechist Mey
says truly, that " the sign of the cross appearing on the first
page of the catechism brings the home, and especially the
mother, in direct relation with the school and the catechist,
because at the mother's knee the child has learned to make
and to love this sign of our redemption. This very fact makes
the catechism as welcome to the child as an old acquaintance,
and at the same time impresses upon it, as it were, a halo of
sacred dignity."

ARRANGEMENT OR DIVISION OF SUBJECTS.

The division of the subject-matter is of great importance,
and we hold that the old, well-tried division, De Deo Uno et
Trino, De Deo Creatore, De Deo Redemptore, De Deo Sancti-
ficatore, De Deo Remuneratore, is by far the best and most
practical. The chapter De Deo Sanctificatore includes as a
natural and essential element the doctrine of the co-operation
of free will with grace, and here is the right place for the trea-
tise on the commandments.

II. Which are the qualities that go to make up a really

1 895.] THE REQUIREMENTS OF A CATHOLIC CATECHISM. 829

practical catechism ? is the second question we propose to
answer. That a catechism should be orthodox goes without
saying, and is taken for granted when it has the imprimatur of
the Ordinary. Our definition of catechism claims that the
doctrine of the church must be taught in language intelligible
to children. In this connection we might quote St. Augustine,
who says : " Doctrina Christiana ita doceatur, ut pateat, placeat,
moveat."

Pateat. The catechism must use such terms of expression
as may be readily understood and easily memorized by the
child, for the recitation should be " something more than a pat
sing-song of parrot-like answering " ; in other words, the recita-
tion must be proof that the child that has learned the questions
and answers has not only accomplished a feat of memory, but
really understands what it has memorized. Words like tran-
substantiation, hypostatic union, indestructibility should be ex-
cluded. At the same time the terms of expressions must not
be vague but very concise, in order to convey the exact mean-
ing of the doctrine.

Placeat. The questions and answers should be plain, brief ,
rhythmical. By plainness we mean that the sentences should not
be made up of complicated periods, but should be most simple
in construction. By briefness we mean that the sentences
should be short, excluding every superfluous word. By rhythm
we mean "the harmonious flow of vocal sounds" (Webster). It
is generally admitted that rhythm has a peculiar charm for the
ear and aids the child in no small degree in the work of mem-
orizing.

Moveat. The questions, the answers, and especially the appli-
cations, if such be given at the end of a chapter, should
breathe a certain warmth that may move the heart of the
child. This is of great importance, because catechism has for its
scope both to enlighten the young intellect by teaching the
truths of faith, and to animate and strengthen the will of the
child, that it may love God and act according to his will. A
language frigid and indifferent does not touch and inspire the
young heart. It is quite different to ask : What did Christ
suffer for us ? or to ask : How much djd our dear Saviour suffer
for us ? The latter question not only asks for an answer from
the intellect, but by its affectionate words elicits a sympathetic
sentiment. The "applications" after each chapter offer
splendid opportunities by way of exhortation to awaken and

830 THE REQUIREMENTS- OF A CATHOLIC CATECHISM. [Sept.,

stimulate the zeal of the child to serve God, and a practical
catechism should avail itself of such a precious chance. " Videant
catechistae ut doctrina Christiana moveat."

THE QUESTION OF VERBAL FORM.

We beg to make a final remark. The language of a cate-
chism of Christian doctrine should be as near as possible the
language of the Bible, not only because in this way Tradition
and Holy Scripture concur in teaching the truths of faith, but
also because the religious complexion of our modern society
makes it very desirable and almost peremptory. Short and strik-
ing quotations from the Bible fortify the child against attacks
from non-Catholics, who make the Bible the only source of faith.

It is, beyond a doubt, a most difficult task to produce a
catechism that satisfies all demands. The very fact that the
number of catechisms is so great, goes to prove this. Who-
ever brings along with the indispensable talents experience and
zeal, to write this great little book (crux autoruni], deserves
praise even if his efforts should not be crowned with perfect
success.

FAULTS OF THE BALTIMORE CATECHISM.

Glancing over the field of catechetical literature, our eyes
behold among many good catechisms one very noteworthy, the
so-called Baltimore Catechism, and it is but natural that we
should review its merits sine ira et studio. This catechism
has been greeted and welcomed with great joy in our Sunday
and parochial schools. It has been tried and, without belittling
its go.od qualities, we are bound to say it has been found
wanting,

If -explanations and comments have been deemed necessary,
we cannot quote that fact as a sign of deficiency ; but when the
Rev. James P. Turner makes the very laudable and successful
effort to add to this catechism of sixty-eight pages a vocabu-
lary of forty-three pages, the suspicion arises that such a cate-
chism seems to stand very much in need of that help and
assistance for which a vocabulary is compiled. Whoever takes
the trouble to examine the forty pages of this valuable vocabu-
lary can easily judge as to the language of the Baltimore Cate-
chism, and we fear that his judgment will not be so very
favorable. The terms of expression used and the phraseology
challenge the critic's confession, that the language lacks con-

1895.] THE REQUIREMENTS OF A CATHOLIC CATECHISM. 831

ciseness, briefness, and simplicity. If the questions were num-
bered, we would refer to the number of those questions that
we find especially wanting. An unprejudiced and competent
reader will find our opinion well founded. Let us mention,
among many, pages 9, 10, 13, 16, 22, 34.

The division of the subject-matter is based on the Apostles'
Creed, and of course is laudable. But we must take exception
to the preface, which treats of the creation of the world and
of man, whilst this is the special object of the fourth lesson.
The fifth lesson seems to us very deficient, because it ignores
entirely the gratia Creatoris. To say that our first parents
"were innocent and holy," does not by any means do justice
to the subject. The child has to get at least an idea of the
difference between the natural and supernatural gifts of God to
man. Sanctifying grace {gratia Creatoris) was given to man
when he was created, and this sanctifying grace made man holy
and heir to heaven. Misleading in a way is the question,
" Which were the chief blessings intended? etc. . . ."; and
the answer does not supply the want of clearness, because the
constant state of happiness does not express the full value of
what God not only intended to give, but really bestowed upon
our first parents. We have not overlooked the word " constant,"
which to a certain degree covers the expression "intended"; but
the whole treatise on the creation of our parents is not satisfac-
tory. It is no sufficient excuse to say that grace is defined on
page 19, because here the author treats on gratia Redemptoris,
and therefore it would be more correct to say in the answer to
the preceding question: "and the regaining of grace for man"
(not men). To omit other deficiencies, we beg to take exception
to the first answer on page 35 : "Perfect contrition is that which
fills us with sorrow and hatred for sin, because it offends God,
who is infinitely good in himself and worthy of all love." Pal-
mieri says in his tractatus De Pcenitentia : " Perfecta nempe est
contritio, quae citra Sacramenti realem usum hominem Deo
reconciliat; imperfecta, quae sine Sacramento id non potest
praestare. . . . Divisio haec proprie petitur ex effectu (non ex
motivo). Cum nimirum contritio eo spectet, ut hominem dis-
ponat ad reconciliationem cum Deo, ea contritio dicitur perfec-
to, quae id ex se solo assequitur (S. Thomas Aquinas " De
Lug. et multi alii). We will not press the lapsus pennce when
the author says, on page 37: "but (he) must also repeat all the
sins he has committed," etc. We have to disapprove also of the

832 THE REQUIREMENTS OF A CATHOLIC CATECHISM. [Sept.,

words " is the Sacrament which contains " in the last line on
page 40 ; it should read : The Holy Eucharist is the body and
blood, etc. I never could satisfactorily explain why the authors
of catechisms do not treat on the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass
first, and on the Blessed Sacrament in the second place. It
seems so natural that the child should first get acquainted
with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, wherein the transubstan-
tiation takes place and the host is consecrated, which is
given in Holy Communion and which is adored when in the
ciborium. On the other hand, ever since the Reformation, which
has desolated the non-Catholic church by abolishing the Holy
Sacrifice of the Mass and has left only meeting-houses, the child
should more and more understand and appreciate . that the Holy
Sacrifice of the Mass is the centre of all worship, the pulse of
the heart, as it were, of the Catholic Church. " Sed haec hac-
tenus. Jam satis terris nivis atque dirae grandinis."

We are sorry to say that biblical quotations find no place
in this catechism.

One word more as to putting questions. It is a rule gener-
ally acknowledged, that yes-and-no questions should be avoided
as much as possible. On page 7 we notice six questions of
that nature, and whoever goes through the whole book will be
surprised to find so many questions of the same nature.

There seems to be a general desire for a really good
catechism. For the advanced classes it should be an explana-
tory catechism, which would serve to instruct a Catholic for
life and fortify h'is faith. An abridged catechism should be
compiled, to prepare children for confession and first Holy
Communion.

JOHN ERICSSON.

A GREAT ENGINEER.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

RECENT felicitous saying of Bishop Spalding's,
that " America means opportunity," had its most
forceful illustration, it may, perhaps, be said, in
the career of the late John Ericsson. His genius
was of an order specially suited to an age and
a nation to whom utility is the first essential in material pro-
gress. The engineer is called upon to play a Titanic part in
the development of this continent ; and in conceptions at least
the mind of Ericsson' might almost be described as that of a
Titan. His projects for the adaptation of natural forces to the
needs of the human race were on a stupendous scale. We
who have lived to see the hydraulic power of Niagara utilized
as an electric generator, need not wonder now at Ericsson's
dream of utilizing the solar heat as a substitute for coal when
the world shall have burnt its stock of fuel. The onward mafch
of science is " at the double" since he set the pace, and pro-
mises to lead to regions undreamt of even by him. If it was
fortunate for Ericsson that America gave that welcome to his
VOL. LXI. 53

834

A GREAT ENGINEER.

[Sept.,

genius that was denied him in the old world, it was fortunate
for America also that he made his abode here. His influence
upon the inventive tendencies of the age was powerful. The
stimulus to original research which his quickening genius im-
parted is not 'likely to decrease in momentum, but rather to
keep on increasing with the success of each new demonstration.
To the American mind there is something peculiarly fascinating
in the conquest of natural difficulties by the application of scien-
tific laws and mechanical skill. Even as boys we are mostly
mechanicians in some rude way, and in our maturer years we
never behold a clever contrivance of any kind without instantly
beginning to excogitate in what manner its principle may be
beneficially applied in other directions. It was, therefore, to the
most congenial soil to be found anywhere in the world that
Ericsson felt impelled to transplant his talents when he decided

to cut loose from the
British Admiralty and its
bull-headed conservatism.
Ericsson's experience
as an inventor, prior to
his coming to the United
States, was somewhat like
that of Columbus looking
for help to discover the
sea-road to India. He
had submitted various
plans for improvement in

methods of propulsion
and new modes of con-
struction in battle-ships to
the British government as
well as to the Emperor
Napoleon III., but found
little encouragement. His
introduction of the screw
propeller was gibed at by
the wise-acres at the
British Admiralty. The
French emperor merely
sent him a courteous note
acknowledging receipt of his plans for iron-clad war-ships.

John Ericsson and his brother Nils, who became an engi-
neer of eminence too, were sons of a Swedish miner, and their

A LOCK IN THE GOTHA SHIP CANAL.

1 8 9 5-]

A GREAT ENGINEER.

835

early life was passed in trie mining region of Wermland, where
the people are hardy, industrious, stern, and practical. It was
this same mining population which supported Gustavus Vasa
when he was hiding from a jealous monarch, and gave him the
beginning of an army wherewith to assert his rights. Ericsson

ERICSSON'S PROPELLER VESSEL TOWING THE BRITISH ADMIRALTY BARGE ON THE THAMES.

appears to have been put to work at an age now prohibited by
factory legislation, and from his earliest years his impressions
were derived from the harsh noises and uncouth shapes of the
primitive engines with which the miners labored at the extrac-
tion of the iron ore from the viscera of the mountains. His
inventive genius was astir at a very early age. It is on record
that before he had attained eleven years he had invented seve-
ral machines, engines, and tools, including a miniature saw-mill
and a pumping-engine. He made his own instruments for the
drawing of the plan of this engine out of a bifurcated birch-
branch, a pair of tweezers, and a few hairs from a sable cloak
of his mother's, which served him as a brush. Scarron, writing
his ribaldry in prison with a nail dipped in his blood, was
hardly at greater straits than the incipient engineer in his first
essay at mechanical diagram work.

It was the execution of this rude drawing which formed the
pivotal point in John Ericsson's destiny. Somehow it was
brought under the notice of Count Platen, the president of the
Gotha Ship Canal Board, and its excellence elicited his admira-
tion. It led to something more practical, for very shortly after-
wards, and when he was barely twelve years old, the boy was

8 3 6

A GREA T ENGINEER.

[Sept.,

appointed a cadet in the Swedish corps of mechanical engineers,
and given, shortly afterwards, the charge of a section of the
ship canal, then in course of construction. This post entailed
the engineering supervision of the work of six hundred men a
most extraordinary responsibility to be placed upon the shoul-
ders of a youth as yet too young to be apprenticed to a trade.
A work with which he amused his leisure hours at this period
gives a good idea of his bent of mind, his industry, and his
powers of observation. It is a book of drawings of sections,
embracing three hundred miles, of the canal, as well as the
various engines and implements used in the construction of the
work. Very many of the structures and mechanical appliances
along the course of the canal were built from drawings made
by the boy engineer. When he began, this work an attendant
was obliged to follow him around with a stool on which to
stand in order to level him up to the height of the surveying
instruments !

In due time Ericsson entered the Swedish army as an engi-
neer officer, and the manner in Which he passed the geometri-
cal part of his examination showed that he was a master of the
science even before he had learned its written formulae.' His

ERICSSON'S STEAM-ENGINE, THE NOVELTY.

inventive genius soon began to develop strongly. Experiments
with the power of flame led him soon to the construction of
an engine to be driven by this force, and he succeeded in
naking one which worked up to a ten-horse power. In order
to find a better outlet for this invention he made a journey to

1 895.] A GREAT ENGINEER. 837

England, where he remained until the adverse decision of the
Admiralty on his screw propeller led him to embrace the invi-
tation of Commodore Stockton to seek an opening for his genius
in the United States.

Thirteen years did young Ericsson spend in England, and

ERICSSON'S STEAM FIRE-ENGINE.

during that time he left little time, as the old saw goes, for the
grass to grow under his feet. Invention after invention was
sent to the Patent Office chiefly appliances for the improve-
ment of naval steam-engines and new methods of ship propul-
sion with steam or hot air for motors. The principle of steam
condensation was first applied by him on the Victory, in these
years ; also the use of the centrifugal fan-blower. Afterwards
he demonstrated the practicability of utilizing superheated
steam ; and a little later the important principle of the link-
motion for reversing the action of steam locomotives was intro-
duced by the same indefatigable engineer.

Ericsson and Stephenson were rivals in the field of locomo-
tive propulsion. They both competed for a prize of five hun-
dred pounds offered by the Liverpool and Manchester Railway
Company for an engine fulfilling certain conditions. The prize
was awarded to Stephenson for his famous engine, the Rocket.
Ericsson, who was assisted in his work by an English engineer,
John Braithwaite, sent in an engine called the Novelty. It proved
a marvel. It travelled at the rate of thirty miles an hour, in-
stead of the ten miles asked for. But the judges awarded the

838 A GREA T ENGINEER. [Sept.,

prize to his rival on the ground that it was traction power, not
speed, that was the crucial test.

Nothing daunted by this disappointment, Ericsson went on
his way with his inventions. He gave to the world the princi-
ple of artificial draught as applied to steam-engines a discov-
ery of immense value in the development of railroad haulage
power, as up to that time it had been held that a given area
of heated metal surface was necessary to the production of a
certain quantity of steam. Shortly afterwards he put a steam
fire-engine on the streets, and in 1840 he was awarded the gold
medal of the New York Mechanics' Institute for the best plan
for an engine of that character. Another wonderful invention
of his the caloric engine was introduced to the American
commercial world at a later date ; but although 1 experiments of a
satisfactory character were conducted with it, its actual value
as a motive agent remains still an unsettled question.

There is a controversy over the question of the invention of
the screw propeller not the only one, however, in the engi-
neering world. Whoever was the first to discover the principle,
there seems to be no reason to doubt that Ericsson was the
first to introduce it to public notice in a practical way. Up to
his sojourn in England the paddle-wheel was the only agency
known for the driving of ships through the water. A long
study of the subject had convinced Ericsson that the secret of
the rapid movement of birds and fishes in their respective
elements was oblique, not backward, motion the principle of
the paddle. To gain an idea with him was to apply it. It was
not long after he had studied out the subject that he had con-
structed a screw-driven model boat, and he dreamed of driving
ships through the air by means of the same principle. The
success of the model in a tank was such that Ericsson built a
boat forty feet by eight, and invited the English Lords of the
Admiralty to see it towing the American packet, the Toronto,
on the Thames. The Lords politely acceded to the invitatibn,
but they ignored his invention. Ericsson accidentally learned
some time afterwards that they condemned it on the ground
that it would be impossible to steer a vessel whose motive
power was located at the stern. It was this solemn stupidity
which caused Ericsson to quit the country in disgust. It is
characteristic of the English official system. The same Admi-
ralty, and its confrere the War Office, both pronounced against
the feasibility and the usefulness of the Suez Canal, when De
Lesseps was endeavoring to interest the European powers in

I895-]

A GREAT ENGINEER.

839

his mighty scheme. It was only when the canal had become a
fact that the English government perceived its value.

However, the dulness of British official brains is not an un-
mitigated evil. It gave to America just the man she needed at
a critical time. It was not long after he had come here, in re-
sponse to Commodore Stockton's invitation, until he astonished
the world with his new style of managing a war-ship. This
formidable revolution was at variance with everything hitherto
known in naval construction. Her engines and furnaces were
placed below the water-line, secure from injury by shot or shell.
She had a telescopic smoke-stack which offered no target for the
enemy's fire. She was propelled by a fan at the stern, also un-
der the water-line. The Princeton, as the ship was called, creat-
ed a profound sensation. Unstinted praise was lavished upon
Captain Ericsson for his invention, but he was never paid for it.

It was not until the ravages of the Alabama and other
privateers had stirred up the authorities here that anything
practical was done about Ericsson's plans. The Navy Depart-
ment saw that it was time to be up and stirring, and a com-

ENCOUNTER BETWEEN THE MONITOR AND THE MERRIMAC IN HAMPTON ROADS.

mission was appointed to procure and decide upon designs for
iron-clad ships.

What followed immediately was not calculated to give one
an exalted idea of the superiority of our Navy Department's
ways over those of the British Admiralty. It w*as with very
great difficulty that Ericsson was induced to go to Washington
to explain and expound his plans for the Monitor, so shabby
had been his treatment over the Princeton matter. When he

840

A GREAT ENGINEER.

[Sept.,

did go he was astonished and indignant to find that the com-
mission which consisted of Commodores Joseph Smith, Charles
H. Davis, and Hiram Paulding had already decided to reject his
design. He inquired on what grounds, and was informed that
a vessel of that construction was considered as likely to upset.
This idea was absurd, and Captain Ericsson proceeded to refute

TRANSVERSE SECTION OF THE MONITOR.

it so completely that the commissioners were compelled to yield
the point, and he returned from Washington with an order for the
construction of the Monitor, but on a contract of a most illiberal
character so illiberal that the vessel was not paid for wholly
by the government when she fought her victorious battle with
the Merrimac in Hampton Roads. The Monitor was constructed
within one hundred days, according to the stipulation, and had
she failed in any way to stand the governmental tests which
did not contemplate an actual battle Ericsson would have
forfeited the instalments of moiaey paid him for her progressive
construction.

The modern era of naval armament dates from the appear-
ance of the Monitor. It was indisputably demonstrated that
the victory in naval warfare for the future must rest with the
class of vessel which fought from the surface of the water and
below the surface as much as possible, and presented as little
bove the surface as a target for the enemy's fire as was con-
tent with the floating principle. The torpedo, which soon
owed the Monitor, was another great step forward in the
: art of destruction. Ericsson's torpedo boat, the De-
troyer, was a vast improvement on the design of Whitehead,
nuch as it could be steered in any needed direction by
reversing engines, and could outrun any fighting ship by
the lightness of its build and the power of its engines.

I89S-]

A GREAT ENGINEER.

841

In the Whitehead torpedo boat the principle of total submer-
sion involved recourse to the plan of automatic machinery
which only worked in a set way and allowed but one direction
to the contrivance in its submarine passage, whilst the bubbles
which it caused on the surface of the water as it rose occasion-
ally to renew its air-supply revealed its locality to the threat-
ened ships and enabled them to provide in some way against
the dangerous visitor. The Whitehead system has since been
discarded in favor of modifications of Ericsson's plan.

Valuable as Ericsson's inventions in war undoubtedly were,
it is always more congenial to find a man of brains bestowing
benefits on the arts of peace. Most of Ericsson's great discov-
eries were in this field. He was a man of great ideas and her-
culean projects. His researches into the laws of physics were
fruitful of many valuable results, and the problems in mathe-
matics with which he attempted to grapple were more than
Archimedean. One of the problems which he put before his
mind was the effect of the action of such rivers as the Missis-
sippi on the solid and
sedimentary matter of
its channels in retard-
ing the earth's rotation
on its axis. Another
was the effect of man's
labor in building cities
of materials taken from
below the earth's crust
in expanding the earth's
bulk and consequently
its circle of gyration.
These and similar spec-
ulations he worked out,
by means of astronom-
ical experiments, with
infinite pains. He con-
structed, besides, many
scientific and engineer-
ing appliances of the
greatest possible value.
He also left behind him a vast body of printed and written mat-
ter connected with his engineering work, embracing diagrams and
copious explanations of all the great undertakings of his life.

Ericsson was intensely devoted to his profession and its
higher pursuits. He threw himself into them with an ardor

SOLAR-ENGINE DESIGNED BY ERICSSON.

842 A GREA T ENGINEER. [Sept.,

which knew no relaxation, and even precluded that social inter-
course which most men find indispensable to existence. There
was something more than enthusiasm in this devotion to sci-
ence ; it amounted to something like fanaticism. His whole
time, save that given up to sleep and taking food, and a regular
daily walk, was spent in his workshop, his study, and his labora-
tory. In character he was rigid and upright ; in temper rather
hot. He lived according to the simplest regimen ; temperance,
regularity, and an abstention from luxuries, the regular use of
the bath and a short daily course of gymnastics, were the rules
he laid down to counteract the effects of a constant sedentary
occupation and prolong his life to a full span. He did not
pass away until he had attained his eighty-sixth year and as
full a measure of fame, if not of riches, as falls to the lot of
the greatest devotees of science. These were his only consola-
tions. He had no domestic ones. He was married in early
life, but, his wife dying, he lived for years a childless widower.
There is something deeply pathetic in the spectacle of this
lonely old man toiling away in his cheerless home, and amid an
unsocial atmosphere of his own creation, making an offering of
his intellect at the shrine of science, and devoting himself to
the pursuit with an energy that never flagged or failed. Sci-
ence appears to have, thus, a fascination for its devotees as
enthralling as the gaming-table and the opium-bowl over their
slaves. But it differs from either of those fatal deliria, inas-
much as it strengthens mind and brain as long as due atten^
tion is paid to the body. And Ericsson's case shows power-
fully how a calm and finely-balanced mental condition and a
vigorous bodily tone may be maintained concurrently with long
years of systematic study, by means of simply observing the
laws of temperate living and eschewing habits which the mass
of mankind have come to regard as indispensable adjuncts of
civilization. Alcohol and tobacco were rigidly excluded from
his regimen, and the only stimulant he allowed himself was tea.
To some such a life as he led for a great many years must
appear as that of the mill-horse ; but that he himself found in
.it the greatest of earthly delights is beyond all question. And
as happiness is only a relative question, it may be doubted
whether the most luxurious sybarite that ever spent millions on
his own pleasures ever enjoyed any delight in life comparable
to Ericsson's in his solitary workshop-study in the old house
in Beach Street, New York, where he plodded away nigh a
half-century of existence.

1895.] THE TREND OF TOTAL ABSTINENCE. 843

THE TREND OF TOTAL ABSTINENCE.

OMMUNITIES and nations are said to be making
a moral advance when they begin to show habits
of thrift, moderation in the conduct of public
affairs, a respectable attendance of children at the
schools, and other overt tokens of civilized life.
In these respects the people of the United States compare favor-
ably with those of other nations. But there is a higher kind
of progress desirable, in the interests of a nobler civilization,
than mere material or even ethical improvement. It is in the
domain of morals, and of these not the least important is the
virtue of temperance. When we find a people giving proofs of
such moral superiority as the habit of self-denial and self-control
demanded for the cultivation of this virtue, we can unhesitat-
ingly point to them as exemplars of progress in the highest
sense of the word. Temperance, while in itself a virtue, is a
preparation for nearly all the other virtues. It is the fruitful
ground out of which the most beautiful growths and blossoms
which adorn the garden of humanity spring.

The Catholics of the United States are making progress, we
are proud to say, in this exalted virtue. They are making sub-
stantial progress. It is not the unstable gain of a tidal wave,
whose back-sweep leaves the debris and rubble of the strand
much about the same place where it found them at its outset.
But it is a steady, tenacious detrition of the rocks of obstinacy,
ingrained habit, and " damned custom," as Hamlet phrases it.
Henceforth its movement may be quicker, for there is no ques-
tion but that it has gained a tremendous momentum from the
circumstances and events of the Silver Jubilee of the movement
celebrated recently in New York. These were so notable that
they lifted the celebration to the plane of a great historical
event.

There are victories and conquests in the warfare of morals
no less significant nay, a thousand-fold more vital to mankind,
very often than those on the field of ensanguined glory. Every
advance in the field of morals entitles us to something higher
than a mural crown or a conqueror's laurels. It cannot but
heighten our joy at the outcome of the Jubilee to find that it
was not alone the celebration of a quarter of a century of such

844 THE TREND OF TOTAL ABSTINENCE. [Sept.,

moral victory, but that it won. another victory in itself by wrest-
ing from reluctant adversaries of the Catholic Church the ad-
mission that she is the open foe, and not the secret ally, of the
power of the saloon in the United States.

No better illustration of the mode of the church in working
out problems of moral regeneration could be found, perhaps,
than in her attitude with regard to the drink problem. It is
one of those questions wherein the only action that could be
successful was religious action. The matter under discussion
was not of a nature to be dealt with by any other means. It
did not, in its essence, come under her doctrinal ban ; it could
not be disposed of by an interdict. Only by an appeal to the
spirit of religion in man, to the nobler instincts of his nature,
could it be successfully dealt with.

The level upon which the church has set this question, here
in the United States, is higher than that of the humanitarian.
That which she would have highly she would have holily. She
ranks it amongst those sacramental things which make for man's
eternal salvation, and her labor is to make the movement which
is to effect it a permanent and perpetual feature of the daily
life of Catholicism, and a branch of the comprehensive aposto-
late of reclamation to which her own existence is consecrated.

It would seem as though the disclosure of this attitude of
the church upon the temperance movement came upon some
critics as a revelation. Small minds had attributed petty motives
to the broadest-minded and most disinterested of all institu-
tions. The sordid and transitory interests of local politics and
politicians were somehow supposed to have an influence upon
the action of the church in this great problem of civilization.
That such Lilliputian impressions could anywhere prevail would
be to many minds incredible, were it not that the proof is af-
forded in the leading columns of organs representing large non-
Catholic denominations throughout the country. To dispel this
preposterous delusion at one breath was an achievement worth
the trouble. It was shattered like a child's iridescent bubble
by the breath of the Carnegie Hall meeting, and the proceed-
ings of which that meeting was the crown and culmination. As
Archbishop Ireland writes to the secretary : " No previous con-
vention has make such a deep impression on the country. You
have in one week sent the movement ahead by ten years."

The proximate effects of this temperance wave upon public
life may be easily foreseen. The paramount problem in all great
American cities is the influence of the saloon. Catholic influence

1895.] THE TREND OF TOTAL ABSTINENCE. 845

has now declared war against the saloon not against the men,
but against the principle. The church desires not the destruc-
tion of the saloon-keeper, but his conversion to better ways.
Better the influence of a foreign conqueror than that of this
domestic enemy of human happiness, this vampire who fans his
victims so deliciously to sleep and helplessness, whilst he drains
their life-blood. The many antipathies of race and creed and
politics must be toned down and worn away by means of the
common platform which the temperance movement affords for
good men and women of all conditions. The position of the
church has been made so clear that none can ever hang back
from the propaganda on the ground that it means politics un-
less, indeed, we accept the idea of politics which defines it as
" an enlarged morality."

There is nothing new in all this to those who have nursed
and tended the movement which celebrated its Silver Jubilee
by this convention. The National Temperance Organization
from the outset pursued a settled and definite policy. It kept
the principle free from all entanglements. The muddy stream
of politics, municipal or national, was never permitted to sully
it. The task was a difficult one, as a multitude of specious
reasons are always ready to hand to excuse diversions from the
main purpose with the hope of ultimately accomplishing it by
side issues.

In the face of all men the movement now stands for what
it really is a movement which appeals to man's highest instincts
and noblest aspirations a movement for the lifting up and
emancipation of the human race from a debasing slavery a
movement for the greater glory of God.

MR. JEREMIAH CURTIN, who has gained a world-
wide reputation as a collector of old legends and
folk-lore in many lands, has just given us a new
volume of fairy tales and ghost stories of the Irish
peasantry.* The habit of going about amongst an
agricultural people and jotting down the traditionary gossip with
which they beguile the long winter evenings may have the re-
sult of inspiring readers who know nothing of the country with
the belief that a vast deal of extravagant superstition still ex-
ists amongst the people who hand down those old stories as
they got them in their youth. That a certain amount of belief
in fairies and ghosts, and in particular in the banshees, still
survives in remote districts in Ireland, is proved to be true by
more than one startling occurrence in recent years. But it can-
not be too widely understood that the percentage of real believ-
ers in these survivals of a magical and heroic bardic glamour is
very small indeed. Any one who knows Ireland intimately, and
who has sat at the peasant's fireside at night while these tales were
circling, knows full well how the bulk of the company laughed at
them as mere fireside babble ; and even when semi-magical rites
were performed by the young people, especially on All-Hallows
night, it was done in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred merely
in a spirit of jocosity, and in order to keep up an ancient cus-
tom. Hard times and increasing contact with the outer world
have combined to make the average Irish peasant a very differ-
ent being from the peasant of romance, or the stage caricature.
He is usually as shrewd a being, as clear-headed, and as prac-
tical, nowadays, as his congener in the most unromantic agricul-
tural country anywhere.

Sentimental minds may find in the change which has come
over the Irish peasantry a proof of moral decadence, but a little
sober thought will banish this mistake. Even in chivalric days
the legendary vein was worked until the traffickers in it be-

* Talesof the Fairies and of the Ghost World collected from oral tradition in South-west
Munster. By Jeremiah Curtin. Boston : Little, Brown & Co.

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 847

came a nuisance, and measures nearly as strong as those needed
to put down the Janissaries and the Mamelukes had to be re-
sorted to before the nuisance of the bards could be got rid of.
While we hope the beautiful, imaginative side of the Irish
character will never be eradicated, we would deprecate the idea
that some of the puerile and pointless stories which are picked
up promiscuously by searchers after folk-lore furnish any real
criteria for judging of the general mental calibre. There are
some stories in this series which preserve the better traits of
the ancient Irish myths ; others that show no higher quality
than very commonplace superstition. While we say this we
must not forget that Mr. Curtin has already done splendid ser-
vice in disentombing some of the finest of the old heroic tales
and enabling the world to judge of the high level- of Celtic ro-
mance at an age when the remainder of Europe, save one small
corner in the south-east, was plunged in Cimmerian barbarism.

One of the most touching and captivating stories for youth
we have met is Mary T. Waggaman's first communion tale of
Little Comrades.* It is a story of boy's life of the present day,
depicting vividly the many difficulties and obstacles with which
Catholic youth have to contend in school life and in the world,
in order to become and remain practical Catholics. The inci-
dents are exceedingly striking and dramatic, and a tone of deep
and fervid piety which is maintained all through the work, so
far from marring its effect as a piece of vraisemblance, only
heightens this effect. It is a story, in short, which no Catholic,
either young or old, could fail to find deeply absorbing.

History in America has a manifest advantage over history
in other countries. The legendary and mythical element is
entirely lacking, and what is set down is set down in the face
of all mankind, to acquiesce in or deny, if denial be possible.
History, then, with us may be classified as one of the exact
sciences, inasmuch as its propositions can be proved step by
step, and may not be made the shuttlecocks of controversialists,
as they invariably are in all other cases. And more especially is
this the case with regard to the history of the various terri-
tories 1 whose admission to the Union has taken place in recent
years. The history of these places may truly be said only to
have begun since then. And yet it can hardly be said of
these regions and peoples that their condition justified the

* Lit tie Comrades : A First Communion Story. By Mary T. Waggaman. Philadelphia :
H. L. Kilner & Co.

848 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

ancient adage. If happiness consisted in a perennial state of
war and savagery they must indeed have been in Elysium.
But the animal life of the jungle and the forest does not come
within the purview of the proverb ; and this was substantially
the normal life of the American Indian previous to the
advent of the white man. It is rarely that the historian is
enabled to chronicle the transformation of a country from bar-
barism to civilization. Such a privilege is that of Father L. B.
Palladino, S.J., the historian of the reclamation of the Territory
of Montana.* And not only is the reverend author the his-
torian, but he was one of the most active of those heroic
pioneers of Christianity in the North-west and bore a very-
large part in all the transactions which his pen describes.

In October, 1891, the Catholics of Helena diocese celebrated
the fiftieth anniversary of the establishment of the first Catho-
lic mission in Montana. In 1840 the renowned Father De
Smet had travelled to the country of the Flat-Heads, as the
chief Indian tribe was called, and next year his journey bore
fruit in the establishment of a mission, composed of Fathers
Point and Mengarini, and three lay brothers of the Society of
Jesus. One member of this band still lives Brother Claessens,
of Santa Clara, California.

It is worthy of note that the request for Catholic teaching
came from the poor uneducated Indians themselves. These
Flat-Heads had been come up with by a few early travellers,
and they were described as possessing the virtues of bravery,
honesty, truth, and chastity in a degree remarkable for a savage'
people. Ten years previous to Father De Smet's journey four
braves of the tribe had travelled to St. Louis from their own
home, more than three thousand miles distant, as delegates of
the tribe, to ask the palefaces to send them Catholic missionar-
ies, for from some Iroquois visitors long ago they had heard of
the beauties of the Catholic faith, and had even learned some
words of Catholic prayers and the use of the sign of the cross.
Two out of the four delegates died from the exhaustion and
privation of that terrible journey, but before they succumbed,
although unable to make themselves understood save by signs
they were received into the church for which they had under-
gone so much.

The letter of Bishop Rosati, of St. Louis, detailing this inci-

B 7L-
* Bishop of

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 849

dent, presents it in a very touching way. The Methodist and
other Protestant missionary societies, having heard of this inci-
dent, resolved on sending missionaries into the region, but the
Flat-Heads would have none of them when they saw them.
They wore no black robes, they had no crucifix, they did not
say "the great prayer" (the Mass), they had wives, they looked
unlike what they had heard of the "black robes." Finding this to
be the case, those missionaries made a report to their societies
which might not unjustly be likened somewhat to the verdict of
the fox in the fable " The grapes are sour " and went their way.

The primeval forest never heard much of the controversy
about church and state, but it may not be inappropriate to
note the little object-lesson in the subject which was given half
a century ago in the wilds of the Rocky Mountains, when
Father De Smet arrived amongst the eagerly expectant Indi-
ans. He was received at an encampment filled with a great
number of chiefs and braves, and the presiding chief, whose
name was Big Face, welcomed him in a set speech full of effu-
sive expressions of joy. Then he tendered the resignation of
his own authority into the hands of Father De Smet. This
the great missionary at once declined, pointing out that his
coming amongst them had only the salvation of their souls for
object, and that in other respects they were to remain as they were
until circumstances gave them a more permanent dwelling-place.

The records of the early years of the mission abound in
stories of privation, owing to the remoteness of the region, the
hostility of other Indian tribes, and the difficulty of procuring
supplies. But the work of civilizing the Indians went steadily
on amongst the Flat-Heads, until at length they were described
by President Pierce in his message to Congress as " the best
Indians of the Territory ; honest, brave, and docile."

Too much attention cannot be given to the matter set forth
in the chapters touching this weighty subject. The United
States government, having undertaken the responsibility of edu-
cating many Indian children, proceed to fulfil the duty, through
their agents, in a way which sets at defiance alike the laws of
nature and the dictates of reason. That principle which was
decried as one of the most inhuman in the slavery system the
separation, namely, of parents and children is recognized as an
indispensable condition in the civilizing of the Indian by means
of the non-sectarian State boarding-school. In the name of
freedom and neutrality in religion tyranny of the most shame-
less kind is practised toward those unhappy wards of a state
irresistible in its strength and glorying in its liberty. Here is
the process by which children are secured for these schools
VOL. LXI. 54

850 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

according to the testimony of the Hon. Mr. Holman, M.C. :
" The agent of Carlisle or any other school in the East goes to
the place where the Indians are ; he tells the agent how many
children he wants, and the agent says ;to the parents of the
children selected, * Your rations are suspended until you let
your children go.' " The suspension of rations thus brutally
threatened as an alternative to what we may call non-sectarian
proselytism, means nothing less than absolute starvation in all
such cases. As to the results of such education on the children
thus torn, like the Turkish Janissaries, from their homes in
childhood, let us again take this eminent functionary's testimony
before the special committee of Congress appointed to investi-
gate the question : " The results of this class " (Indian schools
of the reservation) " are unsatisfactory. We did not find in our
observations a single instance where the children had gone
back from these schools to the Indians, unless supported in
some form or other by the government, in some government
employment, who had not relapsed into barbarism ; and this
applies to the girls as well as to the boys and in many cases
they had become more vicious than the body of the tribe."

But these schools must present some advantages, else they
could not be maintained, in the teeth of this and other similar
testimony, and the advantage in the system is derived by the
teachers and managers of the . boarding-schools. As a large
percentage of the scholars die before attaining maturity from
nostalgia the pathological term for home-sickness a great many
people who believe Indian goodness to consist in an accelerated
mortality will also uphold those schools, on that ground alone.

The boarding-school system differs from the public-school
system in many important particulars, but it agrees with it in
one vital principle : it furnishes no religious training, and it
necessarily debars any from outside, owing to its peculiar con-
ditions. This is civilization with a vengeance. It is no wonder
that Father Palladino expresses his doubts that it would not be
better to let the Indian remain in his' native wilds and live
and die in stark barbarism than bring him up in one of those
schools, founded upon the rending of natural ties, the ignoring
of God, and the repression of the physical faculties. Indians
brought up under such conditions may be regarded as tame
savages, useless to civilization and useless to themselves.

Many other topics of a cognate character are treated

:opiously in the course of this valuable book. The history of

the founding of the various other missions throughout the Mon-

na region is given in chronological sequence, together with

biographical sketches of the various missionaries and heads of

1895.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 851

sisterhoods, and much other interesting ana, personal and topo-
graphical. Many fine plates of persons and places are also em-
braced in its pages, including fac-similes of the drawing and
penmanship of scholars in Catholic Indian schools, which show
forcibly enough that there are other kinds of good in Indians
besides that of being defunct.

One fact to be noted with pain, in connection with a record
of rare devotion and self-sacrifice such as we find here, is the apa-
thy of the Catholic population of Montana. The reproach of
illiberality toward their religion is made against them. The need
of clergy and clerical workers is felt keenly in that wide region,
yet the contributions of the whole Catholic population com-
bined do not enable the diocese to spare sufficient for the train-
ing and maintenance of one candidate for the priesthood. This
is a stigma which could hardly be applied to any other State in
the Union, and we hope, for the honor of the Catholics of Mon-
tana, that it shall not be allowed to rest long upon their fair fame.

A little volume on the subject of the truth of history,* from
the pen of Mr. H. J. Desmond, M.A., stirs some reflections of
a useful sort to Catholic readers. We have all of us awakened
more or less to the fact that the object of a great deal of the
history which has been written for the past three hundred years
was to malign the glorious institution of which we are members
and the character of the men called upon to rule it.

The Protestant historians of later days freely acknowledged
the animus and unfairness of many of their predecessors, yet
the calumnies which the older writers started took root so deeply
that nothing seems able to eradicate them now. The author of
this useful volume has rendered service in collecting the main
fallacies of history which reflect upon the Catholic system, and
correcting the falsifications by the testimony of the chief scholars
of celebrity who, inspired with a more conscientious ideal of his-
torical work, have gone to the fountain-heads of knowledge and
ascertained the truth regarding not only the actions but the
motives of those who have made history. The synchronism of
the printing of Bibles and the advent of Luther as a rebel to
his vows is one of the best known of these anti-Catholic shib-
boleths. It has often been refuted, but it is perpetually bobbing
up again with all the offensiveness of things in a state of putres-
cence on the bosom of the tide. The author endeavors once
again to dispose of the story by quoting a large array of Pro-
testant writers who have shown how large a number of different
editions of the Bible had been printed long before Luther was

* Mooted Questions of History. By H. J. Desmond, M.A.

852 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.

born In the same manner the fables about " the Dark Ages,"
the Pagan Renaissance, and the causes of Protestantism are
brought forward and dealt with effectively, chiefly through the
testimony of Protestant writers.

The chief merits of this work are the directness with which
it addresses itself to the subject in hand, the absence of irrele-
vant matter, and the very large body of testimony which it
brings forward in support of each of its contentions. Many quo-
tations are made, but they are for the most part brief, and in
every case to the point. Hallam, Maitland, Macaulay, Lecky,
Baring-Gould, Schlegel, Guizot, Palgrave these are a few of
the names which the author invokes in sustainment of his posi-
tion. It is not alone that these writers approached their theme
in a calmer spirit than did Voltaire, Hume, Gibbon, and others
of the cynical, school, but that they made the study of history a
science, not the indulgence of a weakness, going always to the
source of verification wherever it was accessible, and taking
nothing on hearsay which could be tested by indubitable proof.

An admirable book for its purpose is that entitled The Con-
vent GirFs Prayers, just produced by D. J. Sadlier & Co., Mon-
treal. It is a complete Catholic prayer-book, compiled by a
religious, especially for the use of convent pupils as well as the
school and the home in general. It contains, besides the devo-
tions proper to each branch of Catholic worship and sacramen-
tal function, a mine of information upon correlated matters,
ecclesiastical dates and regulations, etc. The book is gotten up
in very handsome style.

We reserve until next month's issue a notice of the jubilee
memorial history of the University of Notre Dame, Indiana a
very handsome volume, the production of the Webber Company
of Chicago.

The sale of Father Searle's admirable work Plain Facts for
Fair Minds has been so great that the several large editions
already published are now exhausted. The Paulist Fathers are
now issuing a special large edition for popular use, at the won-
derfully low figure of ten cents.

A veritable mnltum in parvo is a little leaflet by Rev. James
H. O'Donnell, Watertown, Conn., entitled One Hundred Interesting
Points for Catholics. It categorizes " fifty things that every Catho-
lic should know," and fifty more that " every Catholic should do."
Were these things printed on a card and hung in every good
Catholic's bedroom, it is very likely that the world would be
much richer in good thoughts and works than it is at present.

A TORY success, unparalleled and unexpected
by the Tories themselves, has been the outcome
of the general election in Great Britain. Three
hundred and thirty-nine representatives of that party have been
elected to the House of Commons, giving it a clear majority
over all combinations possible to the opposition. Seventy seats
are rilled by heterodox Liberals, under the lead of Mr. Joseph
Chamberlain. The true Liberals muster only one hundred and
seventy-six members, whilst the Irish vote remains almost as it
was. A multiplicity of reasons are alleged for this singular re-
flux of Toryism, but it may be safely assumed that the chief
cause was the loss in leadership of the Liberal party. Mr.
Gladstone's towering personality has been sadly missed ever
since his retirement. None was found able to bend the bow of
Ulysses. Lord Roseberry meant well, but he was destitute of
the moral prestige which was essential to any captain leading
an attack upon a co-ordinate branch of the Legislature whose
roots are as deep as the English Constitution.

What seems the most surprising feature in the Tories' victory
is the fact that they appealed to the country absolutely minus
any programme. They asked the electorate to give them a
blank check for legislation, and they got it. The element of
uncertainty is always to be reckoned with in political calculations,
but here the unknown quantity has shown itself to be a factor
which annihilated all the others.

But victories of this kind, however imposing they may look
on paper, are illusory things enough at times. This one is a
case in point. An analysis made by the Westminster Gazette
serves a very useful purpose in showing the actual majority
against Home Rule, as compared with the position in 1892. The
whole Unionist vote in the present year is 2,406,898, and the
total Home Rule vote 2,369,917. It is the peculiar distribution
of the majority of 36,981 voters which enables the Unionists to

EDITORIAL NOTES. [Sept.,

take the reins with a majority of 150 members in the Commons.
Another singular feature in this distribution is that in 1892,
when the Home Rule majority in the whole electorate was
about 200,000, the majority this gave in Parliament was only 42,
against the 150 which the Unionists now show for the far lesser
figure. Anomalies of the ballot-box do not, however, alter politi-
cal situations. It is, unhappily, too evident that the minds of
many electors in England and Scotland have undergone a change
on the subject of Home Rule, and if we seek an explanation
of this alteration we can easily find it in the perpetuation of
feuds within the ranks of the Irish representatives who boast of
being Nationalists. The personal character of these feuds and
the bitterness of the methods and language used in waging
them have filled many devoted friends of Ireland with a senti-
ment of the most profound grief and humiliation, and therefore
it is little wonder that half-hearted and lukewarm Liberals in
Great Britain seized upon the excuse which they afforded to
recede from a position which they reluctantly took up.

Armenian affairs have reached the acute phase. The Porte,
although found guilty by the European commission, still hesi-
tates about affording, not to say reciress, for redress in crimes
of such magnitude is impossible, but promises of amendment,
and it is evident that some stronger pressure must be applied
before the shuffling Porte will yield. England is being thrilled
over the Sassoun massacres as it was over those of Bulgaria.
Mr. Gladstone, unwilling though he be to take any further part
in public affairs, has been prevailed on to speak a word for
Armenia, and in a speech full of his old-time fire he addressed
a great meeting at Chester on the 8th of August, making the
case against the Turkish government, as the real criminal in the
awful business, irresistible. The anomalous thing about English
action in these frequently recurring transactions is, that whilst
the mass of the English people denounce them unstintedly, and
rouse other powers to action, the English government is sure
to step in at the last moment and save "the unspeakable Turk"
from the punishment which he so richly deserves. This is the
Tory policy anyhow, and Lord Salisbury may be depended on
to carry out that policy in all its richness of brutality and
laisscz faire.

1 895.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 855

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH AND THE TEMPERANCE

MOVEMENT.

(From the Outlook, New York.)

THE most interesting and the most important convention held in this city
this year was the Silver Jubilee of the Catholic Total Abstinence Union last
week. Not since the meeting of the Christian Endeavor Societies has there been
a spectacle so full of the promise of a better civic future as the sight of the thou-
sands who gathered in and about Carnegie Hall on Wednesday evening. It was
distinctively a meeting of Irish Catholics not German but the Irish face as we
see it caricatured was replaced by the Irish face as we occasionally see it in the
finest of the Catholic priesthood. The membership of sixty thousand which the
Total Abstinence Union has attained in its twenty-five years of growth seemed a
less impressive matter than the type of the priests who are now carrying forward
its work. Several of the official heads of the church were present at the Jubilee,
including Archbishop Satolli, Bishop Keane (the President of the Catholic Univer-
sity at Washington), and Archbishop Ryan, of Philadelphia. The last named is
regarded as the leader of the conservative faction of the Union, yet in his criticism
of prohibitory legislation he was careful to say that he believed in the helpfulness
of laws supported by a strong religious public sentiment.

(From the Churchman, New York.)

THE eloquent oration of the Rev. James M. Cleary, the President of the
Union, whose resonant voice searched every nook and corner of that vast hall, and
held the audience spell-bound at a late hour, summed up the whole question.
The saloon, he said, is the common enemy of religion and of law. No true Catho-
lic should engage in the saloon business. As Catholics and as Americans they
would not submit to the degradation of allowing the customs of the European
continent to take hold in America. The best part of the American public had set
its face against the saloon and the violation of the sanctity of the American Sun-
day. When he said, " America will never submit to the degradation of being
dominated over by liquor-sellers," the whole audience rose and, with the waving
of handkerchiefs and flags, endorsed these views. That the Romanists who con-
stitute the " Catholic Total Abstinence Union of America " are in earnest cannot
be questioned.

It is impossible to over-estimate the effect of this " Silver Jubilee of the Catho-
lic Total Abstinence Union." It must be felt through the length and breadth of
the United States. It will influence the votes of Roman Catholic citizens in the ^
coming election.

(From the Independent, New York)

LOOKING at it racially, the chief opposition to the growing temperance con-
viction of the country comes from the Irish and the Germans. Looking at it reli-

356 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [Sept.,

giously, it is from the Roman Catholics and the Lutherans. If we could convert
the Lutheran and Catholic Germans and the Irish Catholics among us tp total
abstinence, the rest of the task would be comparatively easy. There would be no
difficulty in enforcing a Sunday law so as to give us seven temperance Sundays in
the week.

These being the two great hostile forces to be overcome, the efforts of wise
advocates of total abstinence, which we take to be the most practical as well as
the most advanced form of temperance, should be directed most vigorously and
intelligently against these strongholds. We are sorry to say that among the Luth-
eran and Catholic Germans we do not see any special signs of a temperance revi-
val ; but among the Irish Catholics the evidences of such a revival have been very
clear among us this last week. Ten thousand representatives of this host, from
various parts of the country, have been in this, city the past week, and their utter-
ances have been such as warm the hearts of the old-time teetotalers and the
later prohibitionists.

The official position of the Catholic Church in America on temperance is
given in sections 260-3 of tne " Acta et Decreta " of the last Plenary Council at
Baltimore, under a special heading : " De Societatibus ad Temper antiam Promo-
vcndam"

This convention, with all its enthusiasm, has come at just the right time,
although that was not foreseen. It will help the execution of the Sunday law in
this city. It will show that the Irish Catholics are by no means a unit in support
of the German beer manufacturers who own thousands of saloons. We hope that
this will prove a tidal wave. The temperance crusade ought to be pressed in the
Catholic Church and in the Lutheran Church. Give us these strongholds, and
the day of saloon rule will come to an end.

(From the Christian Intelligencer, New York.)

THE hopes of those who greatly desire better municipal government will be
strengthened by the grand convention of the Catholic Total Abstinence Union of
America, held in this city on Wednesday of last week. Over a thousand dele-
gates were present, representing over 60,000 members of local unions. There
was a great deal of brave and plain talk, and splendid enthusiasm. Mayor
Strong, Police Commissioner Roosevelt, and President Murray of the Excise
Board were awarded a magnificent reception. Their strongest words, in favor of
the impartial enforcement of the laws regulating the saloons, were received with
the most hearty applause. The torchlight procession in the evening of fully
3,000 men, nearly all in uniform, and the cheers which attended it all along the
line of march, were exceedingly impressive. The meeting will go far toward
making anti-saloon politics popular among those who have been prominent as in-
disposed to take action against the saloons.

1895-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 857

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

WITH the present month the John Boyle O'Reilly Reading Circle of Boston
will begin its seventh year under the most favorable conditions. While the
president generously praised in her report for the past year the loyalty, the unity
of spirit, and the unselfishness of the members, we may be allowed to say that the
members are to be congratulated as most fortunate in having the varied gifts of
Miss Katharine E. Conway employed for their advantage. To all presidents of
Reading Circles we commend the following extract from her report, which is one
of the very best that has yet appeared :

We began the year with an active membership of 138, and a resolution fix-
ing the membership limit at 150. The limit was long ago reached, and our secre-
tary informs me that there are fifty names on our waiting-list.

Our membership is not drawn from one section of the city, but from every
section, and even from the remoter suburbs, Medford and Dedham being repre-
sented, as well as Brookline and Cambridgeport ; and members of several dis-
trict and parish circles, as the Fenelon of Charlestown, and the Cheverus of St.
James' parish, Boston, holding membership also with us.

We can hardly count our year from September till June ; since the Catholic
Summer-School begins in July, and our Circle is very closely identified with that
great enterprise. Our annual lecture course was instituted as a result of our
representation at the very first session at New London, in the summer of 1892,
expressly to carry the Summer-School work back for the spiritual and intellectual
advantage of our local life. Two years ago a meeting was held in this hall, under
the patronage of the Boyle O'Reilly Circle, for the benefit of the Summer-School,
with the result that fifty-seven prominent Bostonians were registered at the first
Plattsburg session in 1893. The secretary of the Woman's Auxiliary of the Sum-
mer-School, Miss Ellen A. McMahon, is one of our most valued members, and is
indeed largely responsible for the establishment of this Circle.

The especial work of this year was, " A Catholic Study of Shakspere." We
took up three great plays, " Macbeth," " Henry V.," and "Henry VIII.," consid-
ering each from the literary, the historical, and the religious stand-points. The
last-named play, studied in this triple aspect, naturally afforded much scope for
essays and discussions on topics as vital to the present as they were to the by-
gone time. Studying it from the religious-historical stand-point, for example, we
traced to its beginnings that prevalent non-Catholic notion so peculiarly offensive
to the loyal and intelligent Catholic, that the Church is a " foreign body," an-
tagonistic to the liberal state. The history of the separation of England from the
centre of religious unity naturally led us to the consideration of the possibilities
of reunion for this and other separated peoples, and the individual Catholic's way
of helping the work of Christian reconquest thus keeping us in the spirit of the
church, according to our motto.

These studies brought out some remarkable essays from the members, as did
also the lighter plays which we took up towards the close of the year " The
Tempest " and " Two Gentlemen of Verona," and the memorial evening which,
according to our custom, briefly interrupted our regular course, after the lamented
death of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes.

As we believe in George Eliot's saying, " The last degree of clearness comes
by writing," all the analyses of plays, the character-studies, etc., are written.

858 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Sept.,

Every paper presented before the Circle is the result of independent research and
labor on the part of the writer, the president hearing it for the first time when the
whole Circle hears it.

As one having some experience in literary associations, I beg to say now that
I have often heard at our study-meetings, from girls whose only time for prepara-
tion was the scant leisure of the teacher, the private secretary, the accountant, or
what you will of engrossing daily labor, and who had no literary aspirations what-
ever, papers that in thought and expression compared favorably with those given
elsewhere by professional journalists and literary workers.

And here let me also say that, while our active membership is restricted to
ladies, yet our study-meetings are open to any of our friends in the priesthood,
our honorary members, members of the Catholic Union, and committees pro-
jecting new Reading Circles who care to come and see how we do things. Many
have availed themselves during the season of this opportunity of learning what
makes and holds a strong Circle.

It is pleasant also to mention that we have gained the favor and confidence
of many of our teaching communities. I know of one religious, at least, who al-
ways recommends her graduates who live in Boston to join the Boyle O'Reilly
iReading Circle, and they have numerously come in, to our great advantage.
Another element of our strength is that more than half our membership is made
up of those wonderful young women the Boston public-school teachers.

Our course of lectures this year began with one in line with our course of
studies, " Three Typical Shakspere Plays," by Col. Richard Malcolm Johnston.
It was followed by " Men and Memorials," reminiscences of a summer in Europe,
by the Hon. Thomas J. Gargan ; and by " Religion in South America," by the
Rev. Father Fidelis, better known among us as Dr. James Kent Stone. This has
been accounted an unsurpassed course, and the attendance it attracted far over-
taxed our accommodations.

We had also a series of parlor-talks, the offerings of friends of our Circle :
Mr. William F. Murray, assistant United States Commissioner of Immigration ;
the Rev. Mortimer E. Twomey, of Maiden, and the Rev. Father Robert, of the
Passipnist Order.

Our plans as to course of studies, lecture-course, and parlor-talks for next
season are practically settled, and promise much for our own intellectual advance-
ment and the pleasure of our friends. The lectures and talks will be more than
usually comprehensive taking in matters on the earth and above the earth, and
even under the earth.

There is, however, another department of our Circle's work the social
which we reckon of equal importance with the intellectual. We do not exist
primarily, nor indeed with set purpose at all, for the development of essayists and
poets. When there is a marked literary gift among us, of course we welcome it
and foster it, and try to find a field for its exercise. But our intellectual work
means for the most of us simply an addition to our general usefulness, and a new
adornment for our home-life.

One foundation principle with us is that intellectual ability can show itself in
many ways just as beautiful and acceptable as the literary way. The Circle
s a field for our musical and elocutionary gifts, for our business capacity,
executive ability, and social graces.

Another of our foundation principles is that-if one must choose-a sweet
e character is a better thing than a brilliant intellect, and that kindness
goes ahead of cleverness every day.

1895.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 859

Every lecture and parlor-talk has its social features following ; and a notable
event of our year was the Easter reception to the incoming and outgoing officers
of the Catholic Union of Boston, the day following the Union's election. We
tendered it in token of our appreciation of the Union's kindness during the past
four years, in giving us the use of its parlors for our study-meetings and the rest ;
and our pleasure in giving it was increased by the fact that a valued honorary
member of our Circle, Mr. Michael J. Dwyer, came into office at that election as
secretary of the Union.

We had also a special meeting of our membership to take suitable action on
our archbishop's golden jubilee.

A business event of the year was the completion of the payments on our
cottage-lot at Lake Champlain. We are the very first Reading Circle in the
country to buy a Summer-School lot. We hope to start our cottage this summer
from plans drawn by Miss Annie L. Murphy, one of our members, who is an
architect. The plans are here on exhibition this evening, and we are very proud
of them.

Our treasurer reports an excellent state of affairs no debts and good credit ;
and that our usual resources have been supplemented by the gifts of two ever-
generous honorary members the returned check of the Hon. Thomas J.
Gargan after his lecture in the course, and a gift from Mr. Thomas B. Fitz-
patrick. I am glad to fill this year the office which the president has never filled
before, of chronicler of our season's work ; for the chance it gives me to acknow-
ledge the Circle's far greater indebtedness to other officers : our vice-president,
Miss Mary E. Kelly, whose work in charge of the reception committee for the past
two years has meant so much for the social side of our life, and who has done
faithfully besides her full share of the literary. work of the Circle; our secretary,
Miss Kate A. Nason, who, despite the exactions of her work as a teacher and the
frequent calls upon her as a public reader, has filled most acceptably her office
no small charge in a Circle of 1 50 ; and our incomparable treasurer, Miss Mary
Julia White, from whom we have all at least I can speak for myself learned
lessons in business exactitude and devotion to duty.

We have also special obligations to Miss Hannah E. White, of Medford, not
only for the artistic taste and labor which she has put into our decorations of
which she has had charge on all but one occasion, when illness hindered, during
the year but also for useful and beautiful gifts to the Circle.
* * *

At Saratoga Springs, N. Y., a Catholic Reading Circle was organized within
the past year by four active members, Miss Elizabeth M. Powers, Miss Theresa F.
Dillon, Miss Margaret G. Powers, Miss Frances H. Holmes. A course of reading
was planned to study the influence of St. Dominic, the origin of the Inquisition,
and the career of the great Dominican preacher, Lacordaire. So much interest
was awakened by the weekly meetings and the discussions arising from a new
study of historical questions that at the present time thirty names are on the roll
of membership. Encouraged by their success, the members ventured to arrange
for a public lecture by Henry Austin Adams, M.A., and were rewarded for their
efforts by realizing a fund for the purchase of books, which in course of time may
be increased for the advantage of a large number of readers. At the convent of
Our Lady of the Star, under the care of the Dominican Nuns of the Congregation
.of St. Catharine de Ricci, the members have had thus far unusual facilities in
getting the use of books provided for the house of retreat. These books were
selected with a view to the needs of ladies living in the world.

860 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION, [Sept., 1895.

On behalf of a large number unable to attend the Champlain Summer-School
we hope that the lectures on French literature by the Very Rev. John B. Hogan,
S.S., D.D., rector of St. John's Seminary, Boston, will be soon issued in printed
form. He undertook to show the manifold interest which attaches to French as
a language and as a literature. He explained how a new language is like to a new
world opened to the mind. The literature of other nations give us their inmost
thought, their aspirations, their ideals, each people having a special way of view-
ing, of telling, about nature, life, and man, so that whoever enters deeply into
that literature lives a new life in addition to his own. And just as a man who
goes abroad leaves behind him a good deal of narrow prejudice and takes hence-
forth a wider and more equitable view of things, so the man who cultivates a for-
eign language and literature adds considerably to the range of his sympathies.
Besides, it is a sort of axiom .that only by knowing another language can one
know his own.

There are endless peculiarities of construction, of grammar, etc,, in our
mother tongue, which are noticed and which can only be understood when we
find them different or totally absent in some other language. The second position
of the lecturer was that if any language was to be chosen in preference to another,
it should be the French language, because of the close and almost parental
relationship which exists between French and English ; the English language
being simply in its origin a combination of the French of the Norman conquerors
with the Anglo-Saxon of the previous period, and in such proportions that the
great majority of the words of our vocabulary are clearly of French origin.

English-speaking people are not alone to be interested in French ; every civil-
ized nation in the world wants to know it. Wherever we go some knowledge of
French is considered as a necessary requisite of a finished education. French in
Europe holds the same position to-day as Latin did in the middle ages that of an
international tongue. Nor is this a new feature ; it has been so for nearly three
hundred years. To reach a European public the great scholar Leibnitz wrote, not
in German but in French. The language became so universal among the culti-
vated classes of Germany that in 1783 the Academy of Berlin actually offered a
prize for the best paper in answer to the question " How French became a univer-
sal Language." This ascendency was due in some measure to the central posi-
tion of France in Europe, to the prominent political situation of the French nation ;
but it was also due to the language itself bright and graceful, the language of
courtesy and refinement, which people learned to get access to the vast and
varied literature which for several centuries France spread out before the eyes of
an admiring world.

For Americans French has a unique interest in that it recalls the ancient
alliance which was so material in the establishment of American independence,
and that other fact that the French was the first European tongue in the vast
regions of this great country. From the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico the
French explorers who opened up those vast regions imprinted on it French names
which will remain as a mark of origin to the end of time. The members of a
Catholic Summer-School cannot be unmindful that French literature is in a large
measure a Catholic literature. Our English literature is great, but is not Catholic
it may be so in a large measure some day, but in the meantime we have to look
r a full expression of what is dear to us to another country. This we find in
Catholic orators, Catholic historians, Catholic thinkers, Catholic poets.
Year after year the Catholic press of France pours forth, amid much which is ob-
jectionable, the most valuable contributions to religious knowledge.

AP
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